Maisie.
She bolted upright, gasping, and threw the covers off her. Her eyes swept across the room, but nothing was disturbed. Theo was gone. When he’d left, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t deny the relief.
Dressed in a fresh gown and with her hair hastily pinned, Lavina stepped into the hall. A guard stood outside the door, staring at the stone wall as if she didn’t exist.
“Where is the blue room?” she asked. “I want to see me sister.”
The guard didn’t speak. He simply turned and marched down the corridor.
To her surprise, the room wasn’t far. It was only a corridor away from Theo’s chambers.
She paused at the door and gently pushed it open.
“Maisie?” she whispered.
Her sister lay still, sound asleep. Safe.
Lavina let out a long breath, the tension finally leaving her spine—but the relief was short-lived. Guilt followed swiftly, like a tide dragging her emotions out to sea.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Her thoughts drifted to Theo.
Perhaps he isnae the monster I’ve made him out to be. What if everything I ken about him is wrong?
Running her fingers through her hair, her chest tightened.
One thing was certain—she owed Theo an apology.
Quietly, she pulled the door shut behind her and turned back down the corridor. The keep was vast, unfamiliar, and confusing.
“And just where do ye think ye’re going?”
The husky voice startled her.
Lavina spun on her heels to find Theo’s man-at-arms, Stephen, leaning against the wall nonchalantly, an apple in hand and mischief in his eyes.
“I’m lookin’ for the Laird,” she replied, lifting her chin.
Stephen arched a skeptical eyebrow and gave her a slow once-over. “Is that so? And what business do ye have with him? Arenae ye supposed to be fussin’ over other things like dinners and banquets, and… pretty little things?”
His sarcasm was thick, sharp enough to sting.
Lavina bristled and rolled her shoulders back. “I must speak with the Laird,” she stated, her voice firm.
“He’s busy with clan matters.”
“Aye, he’s the Laird, and as the title implies, he would be busy.” Her tone turned cold. “But I need to speak with him. It’s important.”
Stephen sighed, rolling his eyes as he pushed off the wall.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “He’s in the stables. Come on, I’ll take ye there.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Easy now,” Theo cooed as he ran his hand down the foal’s neck.
The poor thing had barely been in the world an hour, and it was already struggling. His heart went out to the creature, and he hoped the balm of rosemary and mint would help its wobbly legs.
