“One might consider moving the lady tae a more… secure location, perhaps. Edinburgh might offer suitable protection until?—”
“Nay.” The single word came out flat and absolute.
“Jarl Ketilsson, I must?—”
“Lady Isolda stays here. Under me protection.”
Huntingdon’s thin lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “With respect, that’s precisely the sort of decision that’s above yer authority as a jarl. The king himself entrusted us with?—”
“Aye. And the same king entrusted me with upholdin’ me end of the Pact.” Ragnar cut him off, his voice dropping to somethinglow and dangerous. “Which I will dae. Nay matter the cost. Lady Isolda is safe within these walls, and that’s where she’ll stay. If ye have any concerns about security, I suggest ye direct them toward findin’ out how the hell Douglas Graham kent where tae find her in the first place.”
The accusation hung in the air, clear as crystal. Someone had leaked information about Isolda’s location, and that someone had access to the king’s plans.
Huntingdon’s expression hardened. “Ye have the gall tae suggest?—”
Ragnar’s tone remained perfectly level, controlled. “The facts speak plainly enough. Douglas kent exactly where she’d be and when. That information came from somewhere, and until we ken the source, I’ll nae be puttin’ me trust in anyone outside of me clan, nae until the threat’s been handled.”
One of the younger envoys stepped forward, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. “Mind yerself, Ketilsson. We’re here on the king’s direct?—”
“Enough.” Huntingdon raised a hand, cutting his companion off. His gaze remained locked on Ragnar, calculating and cold. “The lady shall remain here. But given the severity of the threat, and the importance of this union to the Crown’s peace, we have nay other choice but tae move the timeline forward. At once.”
Every muscle in Ragnar’s body tensed. “Forward?”
“Just so. The wedding will take place in three days’ time instead of the agreed upon ten.” Huntingdon’s voice carried the weight of royal decree. “The other Viking jarls will be informed and advised to make their way urgently. This should be sufficient tae deny Douglas Graham the opportunity to strike again before the marriage is finalized, and it will nay doubt send a clear message that the Pact willnae and cannae be disrupted by rebellious threats.”
“Three days?” Olaf’s voice rose in alarm. “Are ye daft, man? That’s nae enough time tae prepare fer a proper?—”
“Three days is what ye are afforded.” Huntingdon said flatly. “The decision has been made. His Majesty was quite clear.”
Ragnar looked at Freyr, whose expression had gone carefully blank—the way it always did when he was biting back arguments he knew wouldn’t be heard. Then at Olaf, who shook his head slightly in sympathy but offered no solutions.
Odin protect me… three days tae convince her this isnae just another cage.
“Fine,” he said finally, the word tasting like ash. “Three days. But the lady will be treated with every courtesy in the meantime, and she’ll nae be harassed or questioned without me presence. Are we clear?”
“Perfectly.” Huntingdon’s smile was sharp. “We’ll leave ye tae yer Council, then. Dae inform the lady of the changes at yerearliest convenience. I trust she shall be… delighted by the news.”
The envoys departed as abruptly as they’d arrived, leaving behind tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
“Bastards.” Freyr muttered once the door had closed. “They kent exactly what they were daein’, showin’ up in the middle of our meetin’ like that.”
“Aye.” Ragnar raked a hand through his hair, suddenly exhausted. “But they’re right about one thing—the sooner the marriage happens, the less opportunity Douglas has tae interfere.”
“And Lady Isolda?” Olaf asked gently. “How dae ye think she’ll take the news?”
Poorly, nay doubt.
“I’ll speak with her,” Ragnar said. “The rest of ye—focus yer efforts on security and other preparations. Freyr, I want those patrols organized by nightfall. Bjorn, work with the household staff tae prepare fer guests. The other jarls will be arrivin’ soon if they’re pushin’ this hard.”
The men dispersed with murmured acknowledgements, leaving Ragnar alone in his solar with his thoughts and the marked map. He traced a single finger over the pattern of the attacks again,searching for some insight into the man’s strategy, but his mind kept drifting to Isolda.
She’s goin’ tae hate me fer this.
The thought shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did.
Ragnar left the solar and made his way through the castle’s corridors, nodding absently to servants and guards who stepped aside to let him pass. The family wing was quieter, removed from the bustle of the main halls, and when he reached Isolda’s door, he paused.
No sounds came from within.
