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Brigid was quiet for a moment.

“Is that what’s frightening ye?” she asked gently. “That ye’ll fail them?”

Freya swallowed hard. “They deserve better than someone who cannae keep their eyes where they belong.”

“They deserve someone who’ll run through a castle with their heart in their mouth over a wee scratch,” Brigid countered. “And that’s exactly what they’ve got.”

They reached the foot of the west tower. The stairs curled up into the dark, narrow and steep. Freya stopped at the bottom, breathing hard, and looked down at Archer. His sobs had faded into hiccups. He blinked up at her with wet lashes and reached for the end of her braid.

“See?” Brigid said softly. “He’s already forgetting it.”

“He has a scratch on his face.”

“And in three days, he willnae.” Brigid nudged her toward the stairs. “Go on. Let the healer look at him so ye can stop fretting. Though I’ll tell ye now what she’ll say.”

“And what’s that?”

“That he’s perfectly well, and that his aunt needs to sit down before she falls down.”

Freya started up the stairs. “I’m nae his aunt.”

“Nay?” Brigid followed, Amelia’s wails echoing off the stone. “Then what are ye?”

Freya opened her mouth, and found she didn’t have an answer.

“Ye ken,” Brigid went on, far too innocently, “if ye hadnae been staring at the Laird’s bare chest⁠—”

“Brigid!”

“I’m only saying.”

“Well, daenae.”

“He’ll be fine, me Lady,” Brigid assured her. “I promise ye. He’ll be just fine.”

Freya held Archer closer and kept climbing. Halfway up, Amelia’s wails finally broke into sniffles.

“There,” Brigid said. “Even she’s given up on her wailing.”

“She’s only catching her breath.”

“Aye, probably.” Brigid paused to shift her weight. “Me Lady, will ye tell the Laird?”

Freya’s breath hitched. “Must I?”

“He’ll see the scratch.”

“Then he’ll see I failed.”

“He’ll see that his nephew bumped his head like every other bairn.” Brigid shook her head. “That man had me out of bed almost before dawn that first day because ye said the bairns were hungry. He’ll nae be angry with ye.”

Freya didn’t answer, but her face warmed.

Above them, the door at the top of the stairs stood open.

Moira smiled. “Bring the babe to me, me Lady. I heard ye both fussing from here.”

Freya hesitated.