She shook her head before he could finish.
“Please…” Her voice quivered. “Let me speak.”
Aaron fell silent.
She slowly pulled away from him, sitting upright on the floor so that she was facing him.
“I told Laird MacFaris that ye would never surrender yer lands.” Her gaze dropped. “But I couldnae tell him…” She paused, swallowing hard. “I couldnae tell him that this was only an arrangement. A false betrothal.” Her voice cracked, her fingerscurling into her skirt. “That ye would never give away Hallow for someone like me.”
Her gaze lifted again, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. “He wouldnae believe me.” The smile disappeared. “He kept sayin’ ye would come, and ye did.”
Silence settled between them.
Aaron’s chest tightened painfully. So painfully that for a moment, he was at a loss for words.
The thought that Edith had spent even a second trying to convince MacFaris not to bargain with her life was unbearable. But to find out that she had done it believing herself to be worth less than his lands… it stung more than he had expected.
“Ye could have lost yer lands,” Edith continued, digging a dagger into his chest without even knowing it. “Ye shouldnae have come.”
For a heartbeat, Aaron could only stare at her.
How was he going to admit that MacFaris had been right? That he would have surrendered every acre of Hallow to save her if it had come to it? How was he going to admit that somewhere along the line, she had become the one thing he did not want to lose?
His throat tightened.
He had never imagined that such words would slip past his lips, and yet, for the first time, he found himself willing to say them.
He stared at her for a moment before speaking.
“Edith,” he whispered, with a quiet desperation. “Ye should never speak of yerself in such a manner.”
Edith blinked. “What?”
“MacFaris wasnae wrong to expect me,” Aaron said quietly, his voice rough with something he had spent weeks trying to suppress. “He believed I would come because he thought I cared for ye.” He swallowed hard. “He saw the truth before I was even willin’ to admit it.”
Edith stared at him, her lips parting slightly. “But we arenae truly betrothed.”
“I ken,” Aaron said, slowly rising to his feet.
Remaining on the floor suddenly felt impossible. Too exposed. Too vulnerable for what he was about to say.
“I have spent the past week remindin’ meself of the same thing, Edith.” His gaze drifted to the window. “I have only been lyin’ to meself.”
Edith rose to her feet as well, standing behind him.
“Aaron.” Her fingers brushed lightly against his arm, and he turned to face her fully, his eyes holding hers with more intensity than they’d ever had.
“I told meself it meant nothin’.” He shook his head once. “That ye would leave, and I would return to bein’ exactly who I was before any of this began.” His voice faltered. “But I cannae do it.”
His hand came up to her face, cradling it gently.
“I cannae watch ye leave for the Lowlands,” he rasped, stepping closer to her. “And I cannae pretend that it willnae break me, because it will.”
The admission was not grand in any way. It was quiet, barely a whisper, but it tore free of him with more force than he had expected.
Edith’s lips parted, fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
“For the first time in me life,” Aaron continued, his voice raw, his forehead coming to rest gently against hers. “I daenae want to deny meself somethin’ I want.”
