IKNEW THE moment we stepped outside and saw the disgruntled expression on several faces that things wouldn’t go as expected. Moreover, I felt it from Broderick before he cursed under his breath.
“What is it?” I asked, sensing one of his men on the ramparts had spoken to him telepathically.
“’Tis more than just the king and his men.” His brow furrowed, and he scowled fiercely. “It seems he didnae leave the Sutherland laird at the border after all but dared to bring him onto my land and straight to my door.”
“Dared because he is your king, son,” Broderick’s father warned softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And you best not forget it, or your people will suffer the consequences.”
“It will be okay, Broderick,” I said, keeping my voice strong despite my fears. Gentle because I sensed it would soothe him. “Let’s just take each moment as it comes. I can handle it.” I met his eyes. “Just like your clan expects you to handle it and keep them safe. Better still, keep them calm.”
If nothing else, that last part was the most important because I not only saw but sensed how uneasy everyone was becoming. As did Broderick, it seemed, because after his eyes lingered on mine for a moment and he saw the strength he was looking for, he spoke to the gathering crowd, assuring them all was well and any guest of the kings must be guests of theirs and treated accordingly. Right now wasn’t the time for squabbling or ill manners, but for respect of their monarch and his traveling companions, whether from a rival clan or not.
Despite my growing trepidation, I couldn’t help but wait with bated breath to finally meet an authentic figure from history and the grandson of Robert the Bruce, no less. A man born to the Bruce’s daughter, Marjorie, when she married Walter Stewart, 6th High Steward of Scotland.
Yet when the small group of men on horseback made their way into the muddy courtyard, my eye wasn’t drawn to the king with his notable bearing but to the imposing man by his side, whose steady gaze locked on me just as swiftly. I didn’t need to ask to know he was Dugal Sutherland because I felt it in a way I couldn’t explain. Like a surge of familiarity mixed with dread.
As our eyes held, it occurred to me that I hadn’t asked about him, and I understood why now. It wasn’t a matter of hoping I would never end up with him, but because something deep inside me already knew what to expect when I saw him. I knew he would be close to Broderick’s age, handsome with sun-kissed brown hair, and his eyes would be an intense, stormy grey that he used to intimidate people with when it suited him. Like Broderick, he was tall and broad-shouldered, but I suspected most male dragons were.
“That doesnae mean you’re destined for him,”Broderick grumbled into my mind, keeping how unsettled my recognizing Dugal made him off his face.“Because ‘tis more than clear our dragons are meant for each other.”
I couldn’t agree more, but that didn’t ease either of us as the men dismounted and Broderick clasped arms, hand to elbow, with the king, who grinned at Broderick with affection. “’Tis good to see ye again, laddie.” He gestured at the others with him. “I had no choice but to bring Laird Sutherland, so I trust ye and yers will make him feel as welcome as ye do me?”
Though he seemed jovial enough, there was no mistaking the warning in Robert’s eyes. This wasn’t a question but an order.
“Aye,” Broderick agreed without missing a beat. He nodded once at Dugal, acknowledging his presence as well as the Sutherlands' recent infraction at a tavern on MacLeod land, however subtly. “’Twill be good to catch up about our tavern lasses, aye, Laird Sutherland?”
“’Twill Laird MacLeod.” Dugal nodded once in return, undoubtedly testing how much Broderick could withstand when his appreciative gaze returned to me. “But then, why talk tavern lasses when we might speak of far finer things, aye?”
“Indeed,” the king concurred, intercepting the building tension between the two men when his warm brown eyes turned my way. He offered a charming smile. “Ye could only be the lass in question, for none are so bonnie.”
The king would be one year shy of sixty and had aged well, all things considered, given the difficult era and his role in it. Although not as tall as the MacLeod men or Dugal, he was relatively tall with graying, reddish brown hair, a beard, and deep starbursts of lines around his eyes, speaking to a man who liked to laugh.
“Aye, this is Aspen,” Broderick said before I had a chance to respond, making himself clear to Dugal. “Without a doubt, my fated mate and soon to be my wife.”
“Is that right, Aspen?” The king held out the crook of his elbow and perked his eyebrows. “Mayhap ye will be so kind as to escort me inside where I hope there will be a warm fire and good whisky so ye can tell me all about it.”
“It would be my pleasure.” Going with my gut, I slipped my arm into Robert's and did my best to protect Broderick and his clan because he seemed determined to push his luck. “Laird MacLeod has been a wonderful host, and I can only hope to spend more time with him as we get along well.” I shrugged my shoulder. “As to becoming his wife, I only just got here.”
I could tell by the feel of Broderick’s inner dragon he didn’t like that answer, but I refused to push things if it harmed him and his clan.
“Indeed yedidonly just arrive, aye?” the king agreed, eyeing me with a sharp glint of knowing approval, telling me he knew what I was up to and appreciated it. Thus far, he wasn’t dealing with a frightened basket case from the future who would make his life difficult. Instead, I was putting others ahead of myself, and he seemed to understand that, just one of the many reasons he was a good king.
After greeting several men in the great hall, the king requested we dine alone with Dugal and Broderick’s immediate kin so we might discuss things. The Sutherland laird had been relatively quiet since arriving, taking everything in, including me, in a way I knew Broderick didn’t like. The last thing he wanted was the Devil in his Den, so to speak, and I didn’t blame him. Dugal could glean a lot about his rival clan while on their territory.
Especially when they didn't know he was coming.
Outside of a dirty look here and there when the king wasn’t looking, all were cordial enough, including Lucas, thankfully, because I sensed on more than one occasion how close he was to causing trouble.
We ended up in the same dining hall where I first ate with Broderick and his family. The king sat at one end of the table and Broderick at the other. Robert insisted I sit beside him with Dugal on his other side, putting the Sutherland laird across from me. Broderick’s parents and cousins sat in the other chairs.
After food and drink were set down, including venison, a thick savory stew rich with vegetables, and freshly baked bread, Robert declared we would eat then discuss business afterward. So far, I hadn’t spied Dugal’s tattoo, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. After all, I had purposely kept mine hidden under my sleeve.
Despite my best efforts not to look at him, choosing to focus on the king or Broderick instead, it wasn’t long before Dugal engaged me in conversation, and I had no choice but to meet his eyes. Again, that strange feeling of familiarity and dread washed over me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“So ye’re from the future like some of the other MacLeods?” Dugal prompted, as unaffected by that as the king, but then dragons, wizards, witches, and sorcerers existed here, so why not time travelers?
“I am,” I confirmed, trying to leave it at that, but he wasn’t finished, his curiosity ultimately having less to do with where I was from and more to do with what I was.
“And ye are half witch, half dragon?” he said, despite my getting the sense he knew full well I was both. It also appeared the king knew witches existed, too, because he seemed nonplussed in a day and age known for being overly superstitious.
