“That’ll steady the clan,” Connor said.
“Aye,” David agreed, “full bellies make for peaceful folk.”
Connor glanced skyward. “Peace is earned same as trust,” he murmured.
They slowed near the battlements, overlooking the lands stretching green and wide beyond the walls. Connor rested his hands on the cold stone.
“We’ll double the night patrols for a time,” he said. “These times are when danger slips in unseen.”
David nodded. “I’ll see it done.”
Connor turned to him. “And David,” he added.
“Aye, Laird?” David answered.
Connor met his gaze. “Thank ye, for standin’ fast when it mattered most. For helpin’ take Jack and his men down.”
David’s expression softened. “Always,” he said simply.
They resumed their walk, the weight of command settling comfortably on Connor’s shoulders once more. The castle breathed around them, alive and enduring, much like the clan itself. Duty called, and he would answer it, as he always had.
“I’ll see to the nightwatch,” David took his leave with a respectful nod.
Connor slowed his pace as he entered the castle once more. He turned a corner, already thinking of ledgers and patrols, when he nearly collided with Annabeth. She stood there with folded hands and a nervous set to her shoulders, though her eyes were steady.
“Laird McLaren,” she said softly, clearing her throat.
“Annabeth,” Connor replied, straightening at once.
“May I have a wee word with ye, if it pleases?” she asked, her voice careful but firm.
Connor inclined his head and gestured down the hall.
“Of course,” he said, opening the door to the library for her. The room smelled of parchment and beeswax, tall shelves casting long shadows across the floor. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, catching dust motes in its glow. Annabeth stepped inside slowly.
“I wished to thank ye,” she began, emotion threading her words. “Ye brought me daughter home alive, and I ken well what that cost ye.”
Connor shook his head once, eyes earnest.
“I would give me life for Eva,” he said without hesitation. “There was never a doubt in me mind.”
Annabeth studied him, something easing in her expression. She nodded slowly, as if accepting a truth.
“I see that now,” she said. “I had doubts at first, I’ll nae deny it, thinkin’ a great Laird couldnae truly love a mere village girl.” She let out a breath and smiled faintly. “But here ye are, and I’m glad of it, for I would nae give her to a man unworthy of her.”
Connor stepped closer, his voice solemn. “I swear to ye, Annabeth, I’ll love and protect Eva all the days I draw breath.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Her bairns will be safe with me, as will her brother Jason, and ye as well, so long as I stand as Laird.”
Tears welled in Annabeth’s eyes, and she turned away for a moment to gather herself. “That is more than I ever dared hope,” she said quietly. When she looked back, her smile trembled but held. “Thank ye, Connor.”
She shifted then, a touch of practical resolve returning to her posture.
“Now to other matters, now that I’m well again, I’d like to make use of meself,” she said. “I’m a fair seamstress, and idle hands daenae suit me.”
Connor chuckled softly. “Ye’re welcome to work with the castle tailors if ye wish,” he replied. “But ye’ve earned a life of rest as well, if that’s what ye choose.”
Annabeth shook her head. “I’ll rest when I’m in the ground,” she said with a hint of humor.
Connor laughed outright at that, the sound easing the gravity between them.
