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“We leave at dawn. Pack warm.”
Chapter Five
Hùisdean was typically an early riser, but the following day, he was up even before the sun. The morning light was finally stretching across his generous guest suite at Lochmaddy, where Hùisdean had been pacing most of the night.
He’d gotten very little sleep with every minute of his spar against Ayda replaying in his mind. He knew she was a formidable magic user, but he’d never seen her use a sword before. She proved just as capable with a blade as she was with a spell. The only reason Hùisdean had won at all was simply because he’d had more training in his much longer life.
Every time he attempted to close his eyes, he saw Ayda move. ‘Graceful’ was not a word that Hùisdean used lightly; he’d grown up around elves his entire life. When he watched Ayda using her sword like an extension of her body, that was the only word that popped into his head. He’d nearly dropped his weapon and asked her to marry him.
You may have made a little progress yesterday before challenging her, Hùisdean reminded himself. I’m pretty sure beating her in a magical duel and all is good, but kidnapping her to help solve your problems puts you right back at square one.
Hùisdean grunted in annoyance and retreated to the en suite, stripping off his nightshirt and turning the shower on. He needed to get his head on straight if he was about to face a long day of traveling with Ayda right next to him. Hell, she was about to be at his side for gods knew how long…and he was looking forward to it as much as he was intimidated by her.
Life had tended to get a little boring recently—even with a curse to break and his people’s impending doom—but Ayda got his attention. It was something very few people could do. So Hùisdean had decided to spend time convincing one Scottish witch to help him when any earth mage could’ve provided the same counsel.
Not the same counsel, Hùisdean tried to ration with himself as he forced himself under the cold water. Ayda is the best.
After getting through a freezing shower, which unfortunately did very little to rid Hùisdean’s thoughts of Ayda’s sweaty body, he dressed quickly and went downstairs.
Hùisdean was happy to discover that the kitchen at Lochmaddy was similar to all Scottish kitchens in that there was always a kettle on. Lachlan was already standing at the stove, with a kettle on one burner and a Bialetti espresso maker on the other. He turned around as soon as he heard Hùisdean step into the kitchen.
“You're up early.” Lachlan smiled. “I didn't think I'd see anyone for a few hours. Tea or coffee?”
“Brandy?” Hùisdean supplied unhelpfully, plopping himself down at the kitchen table rather unceremoniously. Lachlan chuckled, pouring one tea and then a cup of espresso. He sat down, slid the latter to Hùisdean, and sipped his mug.
“I’m guessing someone is feeling a little apprehensive about traveling with a certain witch who doesn't like a certain prince?”
Hùisdean grunted, downing half of his espresso in one go. “It's not even my fault that she doesn't like me. It was an old prejudice and potentially a little miscommunication.” Hùisdean shrugged. He knew he could come off as a little rude, but it was hardly his fault. He had a country to run, and there was no point in exchanging pleasantries.
“I don't think beating Ayda in a magical sword fight is going to make it any better.” Lachlan chuckled. “Just a thought.”
“And you'd be correct.” Ayda breezed into the kitchen without looking at Lachlan and Hùisdean sitting at the table. Lachlan started laughing, and Ayda grinned to herself, grabbed a mug, and poured a cup of tea.
She was already dressed and ready for travel, with her hair pulled back. She wore a heavyweight fleece top and lined leggings, both in black, emphasizing her figure.
Stop staring, and don’t be an ass. Hùisdean forced himself to drink the rest of his coffee and didn’t respond to Ayda. Lachlan and Ayda fell into an easy chatter. It was a familiar conversation that could only come from good friendship—Hùisdean could tell—and it was driving him insane with the desire to chat with Ayda so freely. Every time they started talking, however, it quickly descended into a fight.
“Hùisdean?” Ayda tapped him on the shoulder, and Hùisdean almost jumped. “Damn. You were completely gone off somewhere.” Ayda waved her fingers around her head. “Are you back with us?”
“Yes,” Hùisdean nodded primly. He stood up and poured another espresso. “What were we talking about?”
“It’s almost dawn. Are we leaving soon?” Ayda’s voice was devoid of almost any emotion. She sounded professional and practical, as if she was talking to a client she didn’t like but needed to respect.
“Ah.” Hùisdean swallowed thickly, trying to prepare himself for Ayda’s inevitable reaction. “We are leaving soon. Calum will open a portal for us to go to Kirkwall, then we’ll take a boat from Kirkwall to Virkie.”
Ayda was silent for a second. “A boat? That’s a twelve-hour ferry ride, at least. Why aren’t we taking a portal to Lerwick?”
Hùisdean braced himself. “Because magic isn’t responding on the islands, including portal travel. We aren’t able to portal in and out.” He practically snapped at Ayda. He was growing increasingly stressed being away from his home.
The curse was unpredictable, and it was anyone’s bet what had happened in the week he’d been gone already. Whenever he discussed the curse or how the magic was being affected, he felt vulnerable and inept as a leader—something he hated above everything else. Forget how attracted he was to Ayda. The idea that he was wrong for his people was a pain he couldn’t bear even in his thoughts.
To Hùisdean’s surprise, Ayda didn’t snap back. She nodded, her face morphing slightly into an expression of sympathy. Or potentially pity… and he couldn’t handle pity.
“Will you be okay traveling by boat, or does this county’s resident mage require better transportation?” Hùisdean grunted.
Ayda’s soft expression melted away and was replaced with the stony glare Hùisdean had become accustomed to. “If it’s good enough for a prince,” she sneered, “I’m assuming it will be good enough for me.”
“Great.” Hùisdean scorned. “I’m going to get my bags. Lachlan, do you know if Calum is awake?”
