Page 74 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

“I ken I havenae made things easy,” Tav continued. “But I’m grateful. Fer this. Fer—helping me.”

The laird waved a hand, almost uncomfortable with the sentiment. “Ye owe me nay thanks. I’m only daein’ what’s right.”

“I think we both ken that’s rarer than it should be.”

Caithness snorted softly at that. “Well, maybe. But it’s what I owe ye. And if there’s anything ye need—ye ask.”

Tav looked at him, weighed the words, then shook his head slowly. “Ye owe me nothing.”

Caithness studied him. Then gave a small nod, as if accepting the statement without argument. “I’ve a council meeting I’m late fer,” he said, turning toward the corridor. “Will ye be alright?”

Tav nodded. “Aye.”

Caithness gave him one last long look. “Dinnae be afraid tae rest.”

Then he was gone, boots echoing off the stone as he climbed back toward the world above. Tav stood alone in the dungeon. He exhaled slowly, the breath shaking as it left him.

It didn’t make sense. None of it. The prisoner’s words, the tone, Armstrong’s fixation on wanting him dead. And Caithness—he’d avoided the question entirely. There was something more here. Tav could feel it. Not just the assassination attempt. Not just the cold politics of Armstrong’s ambition.

There was something else at play here. He didn’t know what it meant yet. But he would find out. At any cost.