She glanced back just as his expression grew more serious, a worried frown clouding his features.
“Ye should be careful today. Truly.”
River’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
“People are frightened. Frightened people always need someone to blame, and they were already talkin’ about ye.”
River froze. It hadn’t occurred to her that people would blame her for this just as Keir did. Could it be that they thought she was responsible? Could it be that everyone suspected she was the one behind the attacks?
But how could I be? I couldnae have harmed him meself and I hardly ever talk to anyone other than Finlay and Layla.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised him regardless, and his words stayed with her long after she left. By midday, she understood exactly what he meant. Servants lowered their eyes too quickly and nobles watched her from corners with poorly disguised suspicion. A pair of council members fell abruptly silent when she passed near them in the southern corridor.
And still, River kept her head high, though she could feel the shift in the air, the disinterest that had quickly turned into doubt, into suspicion. She was an outsider, a woman from another clan, a woman whose mother had been killed and their Laird had done nothing to stop it.
A woman who had probable cause to hurt him.
Layla noticed it too, and the first time a noblewoman openly stared at River with thinly veiled accusation, she glared so fiercely the woman nearly tripped over herself fleeing the corridor. It didn’t seem to matter to her whether or not someonewas above her in status; all that mattered was protecting her lady from the vitriol.
River sighed quietly. Though she appreciated the gesture, she doubted it would do Layla any good to antagonise the nobles.
“Ye cannae threaten every person who looks at me strangely.”
“I absolutely can.”
“That woman was old and harmless. It’s natural for them to suspect me.”
“And yet it’s still irritatin’.”
River couldn’t disagree with that. In favt, irritating seemed like an understatement. But what surprised her more were the people who did not look away—those who at first seemed too brazen, too comfortable in their accusations, until River realized they were not judging her.
They were supporting her, even quietly. A stable hand bowed respectfully as she crossed the courtyard, while two kitchen servants defended her openly near the stairs, insisting she had been tending to Archer herself while the healers worked. Even some guards nodded to her without hesitation, and this newfound acceptance startled her.
Not long ago, most of this castle ignored her presence, and now some of them were defending her. Perhaps it was all because shehad stopped hiding herself away. Perhaps it was all because they had seen her with the children, and they had seen her helping during council matters. They had seen her sitting beside Archer instead of shrinking from him.
They had seen her trying.
“Are they...defendin’ me?” she asked Layla a little hesitantly as they passed by a couple of maids in the courtyard who were once again arguing in her favor.
“Aye, me lady, they are,” said Layla with a bright smile. “The people love ye. Why would they nae defend ye?”
“They do?”
It was the first time River had heard of such a thing, but it warmed something in her chest to know the people liked her—even loved her, as Layla claimed. It turned out that her efforts had, indeed, paid off, and besides, she would rather have the people by her side rather than the clansmen.
By afternoon, River finally made her way toward the Great Hall, where she knew she would find Archer. The moment she entered, she found him immediately in his usual seat at the far end, surrounded by his men, his chin resting on his hand as he stared idly at them.
He was exhausted, his eyes ringed with dark circles. He looked like he was paying attention, but River could see that he was inpain from the way his brow had furrowed, and she wondered if that was truly the best place for him to be when he was meant to be recovering.
Did Jenson know about this, she wondered?
Flanked as he was by his men and dressed in black, he seemed like a rock in the ocean. The bandage wrapped around his head disappeared partially under his dark hair, though she could already see fresh bruising shadowing his temple.
He didn’t just look exhausted; he looked dangerous, and the entire hall seemed aware of it. But when his gaze found hers across the crowded room, something in his expression softened instantly, and River crossed directly to him, with no hesitation.
“How are ye feelin’?” she asked quietly.
“Wonderful,” Archer replied. “I was only hit in the head. For the second time.”
