A small ribbon had been tied into a bow at her waist, and her brown hair had been pinned back, though one soft curl had already loosened near her cheek. Her chin was lifted, and her face held composure, the kind he had seen over and over in the last couple of days.
Hannah walked beside her with a look he couldn’t decide was pride or caution. It was probably a mix of both because something told him that Violet’s sister was not fully on board with this wedding.
Aiden, on the other hand, held Violet’s arm with steady warmth. He leaned toward her as they crossed the hall and saidsomething low. Connor could not hear it, but he read enough from the shape of Aiden’s lips.
Beautiful.
The man was right.
Violet’s gaze found Connor’s across the hall, and color rose in her cheeks. She did not look away. For some reason, that mattered way more than it should have.
Alex made a low sound beside him. “Oh nay.”
Connor kept his eyes on Violet. “What is it this time?”
“I ken that look, Connor.” Alex’s voice was low enough for only him to hear. “Poor lass doesnae stand a chance, does she?”
Connor’s jaw tightened. “Ye give her far too little credit.”
“Do I?” Alex whispered.
“Aye. She has survived me this long.”
Alex said nothing after that. A wise decision, for once.
Violet reached the front of the hall. Hannah patted her hand briefly before stepping back. Aiden leaned down, murmuredone last thing that made Violet’s mouth tighten as if she were fighting emotion, then released her arm.
Connor felt a mild shudder travel up his spine as Violet turned to face him. Up close, the blush in her cheeks was harder to ignore. So was the quick rise and fall of her chest, the small tension in her fingers, and the way she held herself.
He leaned close enough so that only she could hear him.“Ye’re beautiful.”
Her breath caught. Only for a second, though. Then her eyes flashed with the familiar spark that had ruined his peace since the day she broke into his castle.
“Ye daenae need to do that,” she said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Becharming.” Her voice was steady, but her fingers curled into her skirt. “We have a deal, do we nae?”
“Of course.”
Something tightened in him at her insistence. Was she in denial because of the consequences, or had she changed her mind?
It was weird, but he could have sworn her body was telling him the complete opposite of her words. Her cheeks were flushed,and her breath did not come evenly. She held his gaze for too long.
Connor wanted to talk to her about it. He wanted to tell her that a deal was paper-thin when she looked at him like that. He wanted to remind her of the training yard, of the kiss she had not turned from, of the way her fingers had gripped his shirt before fear returned and sent her running.
Of his recurring dream.
He said none of it.
Soon enough, the priest began.
“Dearly beloved…”
The hall settled into silence as Connor heard the shape of the words, the solemn rhythm, the expected pieces of vow and witness, but Violet stood beside him close enough that paying attention to those words became a battle.
Her sleeve nearly brushed his, and once, when the priest spoke of duty before God and clan, her breath caught. But she grew steady before answering the ultimate question, her shoulders held straight and her chin lifted as if vows were another blow she meant to take without staggering. His hands itched to touch her, but he managed to keep them still at his sides.
