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For a long moment, neither spoke until at last, Sorcha said quietly, “I will stand at William’s trial not as your enemy, but as his sister.” She swallowed hard. “And as someone who knows he must answer for what he has done.”

Gavan turned towards her then. “And I will stand as provost.” His voice remained calm, though she heard the strain beneath it now. “That duty cannot bend for either of us.”

He stepped closer, not touching her, but near enough that she could feel the warmth of him.

“But neither will I forget,” he said more quietly, “what has changed between us here.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

Behind them, Lemlair still smelled faintly of smoke and wet ash. Ahead lay Dingwall, William’s trial, and whatever truths Calder had tried so desperately to bury. Yet, standing there, Sorcha realised something had shifted irrevocably inside her.

For the first time since her world had begun unravelling, she no longer faced the darkness alone.

Chapter Fourteen

Dawn broke over the land. The snow had hardened overnight. The crusted covering crunched beneath the horses’ hooves. Sorcha and Gavan were both bundled for the ride to Dingwall. Their breath steamed in the brittle air as they mounted and prepared to ride out. Today, Gavan rode ahead of her, and Sorcha let him. She did not need or want the tension that flared between them right now. She needed a clear head for the trial ahead. Behind them rode Colin and three of his men, the other five staying at Lemlair to protect those who remained behind.

The road towards Dingwall cut narrowly through the trees. The white ground ahead was broken only by dark branches and the faint track left by a cart earlier that morning. They rode in silence for nearly a mile. It was not comfortable silence. It was heavy.

At last Gavan said, “When Calder’s name arises in court, let it do so carefully.”

Sorcha glanced towards him. “You believe speaking it openly could worsen matters.”

“I believe accusations without proof can fracture a room faster than truth can mend it.” His gaze remained fixed ahead. “Calder benefits from confusion. From clan suspicion turning inward.”

She tightened her fingers slightly around the reins. “I do not truly know the man.”

“Nay,” Gavan said quietly. “But William did.”

The words settled heavily between them.

Sorcha lowered her gaze briefly. “When we met with William, he said Calder had connections among merchants in Dingwall. Men who controlled shipments.” She frowned faintly, trying to piece together memories she had not understood at the time. “I remember him saying Calder knew how to profit when clans grew desperate.”

Gavan’s jaw hardened slightly. “Because desperate clans become vulnerable.”

She looked towards him again. “What does he truly gain from all this?”

For a few seconds, Gavan did not answer. Frost cracked softly beneath the horses’ hooves as they rode beneath the dark pines.

Then he said quietly, “Power.”

The word settled heavily between them.

“If the Munros were branded disloyal to the Crown,” he continued, “our standing in the Highlands weakens immediately. Allies grow cautious. Rival clans grow bold. Men who once sought our favour begin seeking safer alliances.” His expression darkened slightly. “And men like Calder position themselves carefully beside whichever voices hold influence in Edinburgh or London.”

Sorcha frowned faintly. “A clansman from the north cannot hold such sway at court.”

“Not openly.” Gavan glanced towards her. “But ambitious men have always found ways to climb when greater houses stumble. Calder does not need a title at court. He needs access to those advising the Crown. Men willing to reward loyalty, information, or political usefulness.”

Understanding began to settle uneasily inside her. “The forged letters make the Munros appear dangerous,” she said slowly.

“Aye. And if fear spreads far enough, the Crown tightens its grip upon the Highlands.” His jaw hardened. “Every clan weakened by suspicion creates opportunity for someone else.”

“For Calder.”

“And for any man clever enough to profit from instability while pretending loyalty.”

Sorcha looked down briefly at the frozen trail before them. William had believed himself protecting Sutherland interests, exposing corruption among rival clans. Instead, he might have helped feed something far larger than local grievances or old clan rivalries.