“So it seems,” I confirmed.
“Yet ye have never shifted,” Dugal murmured, considering me. “How curious.”
Although tempted to ask how he knew that, I refrained because it would only confirm he seemed as familiar with me as I was with him. Fortunately, no doubt sensing I wanted out of this conversation, Broderick’s mother engaged the king and, therefore, everyone else in talk of the border.
“We seem to be gaining ground but ‘tis hard to achieve as much as I would like with the Sassenach holding such important castles.” Robert shook his head and gave Broderick a look that had everything to do with our situation. “It has never been more vital that we stand strong and unified as countrymen and take back those strongholds because the Scots holding them are no Scots at all but traitors, loyal to King Edward.”
Before he acceded to the throne, King Edward III, formerly known as Edward of Windsor, was noted for his military success, among other things, including being one of the longest-reigning monarchs in English history.
“How fares my brother and cousin at the border?” Broderick asked, giving Dugal no chance to engage me in further conversation. “I gather they fight well on yer behalf?”
“Aye, always.” Robert nodded with approval. “Sloan and Tavish are fine warriors. Among the best and most appreciated. May their brethren prove as devoted to king and country?” He pushed his empty plate aside, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued before Broderick could reply. “Which leads us to the reason behind my visit, might my stay last the eve so I may travel fresh on the morn.”
“Of course,” Broderick replied, his voice level enough despite the growing tension I felt in him when he purposefully didn’t look Dugal’s way. “Should I assume ‘twill be everyone ye traveled with?”
“That will depend.” Robert’s gaze settled on me. “’Tis claimed ye wear the mark of an old pact betwixt the MacLeods and Sutherlands. Is that true?”
“It’s more of a tattoo than, say, a birthmark I was born with,” I clarified because somehow it seemed worse had it been with me from the beginning. “But, yes, there is...somethingthere that wasn’t before.”
“Might I see it?”
I nearly looked at Broderick for approval but knew I had to remain in control of the situation because if he was, I didn’t see it ending well.
“Sure,” I replied to Robert, pushing up my sleeve before resting my wrist on the table, palm up, only for Robert’s and Dugal’s eyes to widen, telling me all I needed to know.
“’Tis theverrasame,” Robert exclaimed, urging Dugal to show his, which was, damningly enough, not just identical to mine but in the same spot. “And telling indeed.” He looked from me to Dugal. “’Tis as the pact betwixt yer clans claims, aye?”
“A pact I knew nothing about until yesterday,” Broderick ground out. “One easily fabricated.” He gestured from Dugal to me. “Was a sorcerer not mentioned? Might this not be magic at work somehow?”
“A bloodline long gone until now,” Dugal countered. “So if any sorcerer were to blame for such a coincidence, would it not be Aspen herself?” He scowled at Broderick and gestured from me to himself, too bold by half, given he was enjoying my hospitality in my castle. “Might she not be attempting to find her way back to her mate despite ye trying to keep her because ‘tis clear ye are. ‘Tis clear, at least to a fellow dragon, ye have soiled her when ye had no right.”
Fortunately, I had asked what the difference was between a sorcerer and a witch or wizard. So, I knew sorcerors tended to be sages—those of vast wisdom—who possessed darker magic and were more capable of manipulation than most.
“Excuse me, but nobodysoiledme,” I cut back, not about to be talked about like that. Circumventing how far Broderick and I had gone, I frowned at Dugal. “And whatever might come of all this, I amnotyour mate.”
“Nay, but yearethe one from an age-old pact betwixt our clans.” Dougal gestured from his tattoo to mine. “’Tis clear as day.”
“Have ye proof of it then?” Broderick’s mother, Chara, asked. “For as ye well ken, ‘twill take proof for this discussion to continue.”
“Aye, he claims he does.” Robert looked at Dugal. “Hand it over to her, lad, for if any magical agreement is truly binding, our lass, Chara, with the ancient bloodline of a unicorn coursing through her veins, would know it above all others.”
Saywhat? Yet it made perfect sense somehow, didn’t it? As crazy as it sounded, I supposed in a land made up of fairytales with my Scot of Yesteryear mere feet from me, why not throw a unicorn into the mix?
“Here it is.” Dugal pulled a weathered, ancient-looking scroll from his satchel and handed it to Chara with a rather righteous look aimed at Broderick before his gaze settled on Chara. “I encourage ye to read it thoroughly and see the truth of it, then, for the sake of our clans and a new age of peace betwixt us, see yer son does right by the obligations of his forefathers.”
“Ye are mistaken if ye assume I have control over my son when he is a grown man, capable of making his own decisions,” she spit back, her unwavering gaze never leaving Dugal’s face. “And whatever his decision, I will support him, but more importantly,he will always have the backing of his father, the former chieftain, and the entirety of his clan.”
“Then may he make the right decision,” Dugal said, too confidentfor my taste.
Yet, as the king had implied, the decision seemed to hinge very much on Chara's words. Was the scroll and pact authentic?
We soon found out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
–Broderick–
IKEPT MY expression neutral and waited with bated breath as my mother read the scroll Dugal Sutherland handed her about the supposed pact between our clans.
