“Good,” Eva replied, heart hammering. “Because I need a husband who sees me, nae one who hides behind stone walls.”
Connor exhaled slow, the fight easing from his shoulders, though the tension remained. "Ye’re overreactin’ to this."
Eva folded her arms tight, the sting in her chest sharp enough to steal her breath.
“Perhaps I wouldnae overreact,” she said carefully, “if I kent more about ye, Connor.” She met his gaze, searching his face forany crack in the stone. “If I understood yer moods, maybe they wouldnae wound me so.”
Connor’s mouth hardened, and he turned slightly away. “Ye daenae need to ken anythin’ about me,” he said flatly. “What matters is what I do, nae what I feel.” His tone was final, as if he had closed a door and barred it fast.
The words struck deeper than Eva expected, and she felt her shoulders sag despite herself.
“That’s easy for ye to say,” she replied, quieter now. “Ye hold all the cards, while I’m left guessin’.” A heaviness settled in her chest, a mix of rejection and hurt she couldn't hide.
She looked away then, blinking fast, unwilling to let him see tears.
“I only wish to ken the man I’m to wed,” she murmured.
Her gaze drifted, seeking anything to steady herself, and that was when she saw the chessboard set upon a small table near the window. The pieces stood half-played, frozen in some long-forgotten battle. Eva felt a spark of resolve kindle, thin but stubborn.
Perhaps closeness doesnae always begin with words.
She drew a slow breath and turned back to him.
“If ye willnae tell me about yerself,” she said, voice gentler but firm, “then perhaps we can simply spend time together.”
Connor glanced at her then, wary.
“I’ve nae had supper,” she added, nodding toward the board, “and we could play a game of chess.”
He arched a brow, surprise flickering across his face before it vanished. For a heartbeat, Eva thought she’d reached him, that he might stay.
Instead, Connor turned on his heel and strode from the library without a word. The door closed behind him with a heavy finality.
Eva stood there, stunned, the silence roaring in her ears. Confusion gave way to anger, sharp and sudden, and her hands curled into fists.
“So that’s it, then,” she muttered, pacing once. “Walk away as always.”
Her breath came quick as she fought the urge to shout, to throw the chessboard across the room. She stopped herself only by sheer will, planting her feet hard against the stone floor.
“I willnae beg,” she whispered fiercely. The words echoed back hollow and unsure.
Before she could give voice to her fury, the door opened again. Connor reentered, his expression unreadable, his steps measured. Eva froze, every nerve alive, unsure whether to brace or soften. He closed the door behind him, sealing them once more together.
“I’ve told a maid to send supper here to the library,” he said gruffly. “And a good bottle of whisky.” He glanced toward the chessboard, then back at her. “If ye’re still of a mind to play.”
Relief washed over Eva so sudden it nearly buckled her knees. She let out a breath.
“Aye,” she said quickly, a small smile breaking through despite herself. “I am.”
A few moments later, the heavy doors of the library opened, and two servants entered carrying laden platters. Eva watched in silence as they moved with quiet efficiency, clearing ledgers and old scrolls from a table. One servant set a candle at the center and lit it. The sudden warmth transformed the library from a place of records into a romantic supper.
The servants laid out the food and lifted the dome lids with a practiced flourish. A half-roasted ham glistened with a honey glaze, its skin crisp and fragrant. Trencher plates of roasted carrots, parsnips, and turnips steamed gently beside it, butter melting into their edges. There were oat bannocks still warm from the hearth, a crock of thick barley stew, and, for after, small tarts filled with berry preserves and a wedge of cheese drizzled with cream.
They bowed low, eyes cast down, and waited. Connor inclined his head once, a silent dismissal that sent them retreating as swiftly as they had come. The doors closed again, leaving only the crackle of the candle and the quiet thrum of Eva’s heart. She realized then how strange it felt to dine alone with him after days of distance.
Connor broke the silence first.
“We shall dine together this night, as ye’ve asked,” he said, his voice even but reserved.
