Page 27 of An Unlikely Knight

Indeed past the mountains at the edges, what seemed to be dark smoke, or mist rose from the ground, creating a hazy wall.

“I say all this,” Sterling continued, “so that you understand. I am not trying to keep my people captive. Many remember the darkness taking over. Many lost entire families to the mist. They want to be safe. Letting people come and go from our realm could make us vulnerable.”

“I understand,” Padriag replied. “More than you know.”

* * *

“So we leave. Perhaps we can go to Atlandia. Ask the princesses for asylum.” Liam let out an indignant snort. “I understand why he has such strict rules, but surely he knows we would never cause harm to the realm.”

“Nothing to do about it, he is inflexible.” Padriag pointed at Liam. “Please go back. Stay there. You can pop back once I’m settled elsewhere. There really is no need for you guard me, or whatever you think to be doing. It’s annoying.”

The Brit looked up to the ceiling, his jaw muscle tightening. “I made a vow to keep you safe.”

“I already told you. I am over the whole killing me incident. As you can see, fully healed with only a scar that’s pretty sexy.”

“I’m going to sleep.” Liam turned towards his room.

“Wait,” Padriag called out, not ready for his friend to leave. “Since you spent time with the others … anything I should know?”

He tried to keep his voice neutral, devoid of the yearning that gnawed at his insides, but it was a losing battle. The ache of separation had settled deep in his bones. It was inevitable. For centuries, he had lived side by side with Tristan, Gavin, Niall, and Liam—fought with them, laughed with them, bled with them. Now, the absence of their familiar presence left an emptiness so vast, some mornings he awoke expecting to hear their voices drifting through the halls, the distant sound of Niall’s hammering on whatever project he worked on, the scrape of boots on stone. But the silence met him instead, and it was deafening.

Liam turned, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “They are well,” he said evenly, but there was an undertone of something heavier in his voice. “And, as expected, quite worried about your plight.” He hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. “They urged me to tell you that no one has given up hope, and that they will battle for as long as it takes to find a way to free you.”

A tightness coiled in Padriag’s chest. Of course, he had never doubted them—not for a single moment. They were bound not just by time, but by something far deeper, their brotherhood. And yet, it pained him to know they would waste their days chasing a lost cause. He would have done the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t make it easier to accept.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face before meeting Liam’s gaze. “Once we leave Esland, please Liam, return to Scotland.” His voice was firm, steady, though every part of him wished he didn’t have to say it. “I mean it, Liam. Go to John. He may not be as patient as he’s been for much longer.”

Liam’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as if bracing for a fight. “Then he is not the person for me,” he bit out, his tone defiant. Without waiting for a response, he turned away, his shoulders tense.

Padriag knew that wasn’t the truth. He and Liam had been friends long enough to see through each other’s facades, and this was no different. Liam cared—perhaps more than he was willing to admit—but he was stubborn. Loyal to a fault. And though Padriag appreciated it, he couldn’t let it continue.

Keeping his voice even, he pressed on. “If I am to stay behind, I need to get used to it. I must start life on my own, not depending on you to be here. Because the day will come when you won’t be able to.” He let the words settle, hoping they would sink in. “You and I both know that day is coming. May as well let it begin now.”

Liam remained rigid, unmoving. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, the only sound between them for a long, weighted moment. Finally, without turning around, Liam spoke, his voice quieter now. “Go to sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.”

Padriag exhaled, knowing the conversation was over—for now. But the words had been spoken, and they would linger, just as the ghosts of his old life did.

He went to a chair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, wondering how long it would take before he truly believed the things he had just said.

Sterling was absent at first meal. Undoubtedly, he expected that Padriag would inform Liam of the conversation they’d had about Esland laws.

The meal was flavorful, but unusual. There was a sort of porridge, slices of meat, which Padriag guessed to be native to Esland as well as tea that tasted somewhat like coffee. A bread-like item was served in a loaf from which they could tear chunks. It tasted like wood chips to Padriag, but he figured the more he ate, the better suited he’d be physically for leaving the realm.

“I don’t think the outskirts of Atlandia are far from here.” Liam studied the food on the table, as if deciphering the contents. “Hopefully we can reach the small village just outside Atlandia and the people will remember us.”

Heavy footfalls sounded, Veylen appeared and joined them. Not bothering with a greeting, the warrior piled food on his plate and began eating.

“Good Rising to you,” Padriag said in a jovial tone.

Veylen gave him a wry look. “We cannot escort you to the border today. Perhaps in a day or two. There is a matter of urgency on our northern border.” He continued eating, refilling his plate, obviously preparing for battle and perhaps long days with little to eat.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Liam, forever a knight, asked.

“Doubtful,” Veylen replied, his accessing gaze moving over Liam. “Your offer is appreciated.”

At least the man had manners, Padriag thought.

“Liam is an accomplished cook. He can come along and ensure the men are fed,” Padriag offered. “I would offer my sword but am unsure of fighting from the back of an auroch. I’m sure I can learn quickly.”