Chapter 14
14
L ilith sat on the edge of her bed, her hands fidgeting with the flower Damon had given her, as Ariah bustled around the room, folding clothes and organizing things that didn’t really need organizing.
“Ye look troubled, Lilith,” Ariah remarked without looking up. “More than usual, I might add.”
Lilith let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “It’s been a long two days, Ariah. Too much has happened, and I dinnae even ken where to start.”
Ariah turned to her, arching an eyebrow as she perched on the foot of the bed. “Then start at the beginning. How was the village?”
“The village was wrecked. Brigands attacked it—set fire to most of the square and some outlying homes. Damon brought enough men to help the villagers get started on rebuilding, but then last night another attack happened. This time in Kiel.”
“What happened in Kiel?” Ariah asked with bated breath, as if Lilith couldn’t speak fast enough.
“Another attack. But this time, they caught them. Damon said that’s when Tristan came with men from the castle and helped.”
“Aye, he went! He said the fight was so easy, but the Laird was injured? He didnae seem injured today. What happened?”
“He was slashed across his back. The wound is so deep, it-it reminds me of…”
“Magnus.”
“Aye,” Lilith mumbled, recalling the deep wounds Magnus used to inflict on the staff when he whipped them for the smallest mistake.
“So, he’s better now?” Ariah pressed. “What about yer arm? When did that happen?”
Lilith hesitated for a moment before recounting the incident. “Damon and I were ambushed by brigands. It was chaos. Damon led them away, and Ryder came to help me… but he was still too injured to fight properly. We barely made it back in one piece.” She shuddered, the memory of Damon’s fury at her for stepping into the fray still fresh.
Ariah’s face dropped.
“And I-I did something reckless,” Lilith stammered. “I thought I was protectin’ him, but he didnae see it that way. He was furious.”
Ariah’s eyes widened as she listened. “That’s awful,” she said softly. “But why would anyone attack you both like that? Brigands dinnae usually pick a fight with armed men for nay reason.”
Lilith glanced at her hands. “I dinnae ken. Damon hasnae said much about it, but I can tell he’s angry. Nae just at me, but at whoever orchestrated the attack.”
Ariah’s expression grew serious. “Tristan has a theory about that.”
Lilith’s head snapped up. “What theory?”
“He thinks Damon might believe it was him who hired the assassin, orchestrated the battles—everything,” Ariah said carefully, watching Lilith’s reaction.
Everything? Did she ken about it all? How? Did Tristan tell her?
“You ken how tense things have been between them. Tristan’s worried that Damon might blame him for what’s happened,” Ariah continued.
The information hit Lilith fiercely, and she couldn’t keep her thoughts from straying into suspicion.
She frowned. “But that’s ridiculous. Tristan would never do such a thing.”
“Of course nae,” Ariah said quickly. “But Damon doesnae ken him the way we do. And with the attacks, he’s probably lookin’ for someone to blame.”
Lilith pressed her lips together, her mind racing. “Then we need to make him see reason. Tristan shouldnae have to bear the weight of Damon’s suspicions.”
Ariah nodded. “Agreed. But how? The Laird isnae Magnus, but he’s new to the keep, the clan… He isnae exactly the easiest man to talk to, is he?”
“I dinnae think he’s hard to speak with. He listens to me. What makes ye say that?”
Ariah blushed. “Just what I’ve heard from Tristan about the council meetings.”
I didnae realize he spoke with her about those meetings. He was always a private man, able to keep things in order…
“Tristan is different with ye,” Lilith remarked, a teasing lilt in her voice. “He must really love ye if he’s blurrin’ his lines for ye. Remember he used to never include us what went on in council meetings.”
“Aye,” her friend laughed, though it was tighter than usual. “I think it’s because we’re to be wed, and that has certain… priviledges more than when we were kids, begging for attention and repeating everything without discretion.”
Though she was sure it was said out of some sort of reverence, Lilith thought to apologize for overstepping, but Ariah spoke first. “Tristan does what he wants to do—there’s nothin’ I can do or say to change his mind. Once he’s set on something, he’ll stop at nothin’ to get it.”
Damon’s musings about Tristan fighting like the assassin echoed in Lilith’s mind, and she fought to keep her mouth shut before she uttered something she would regret. She simply offered a polite laugh in response.
The two women fell silent, each lost in thought as they tried to come up with a plan.
“What if I speak to him?” Lilith suggested finally.
Ariah looked at her, surprised. “Ye? Are ye sure that’s a good idea? He’s already angry with ye, is he nae?”
“Aye,” Lilith admitted. “But maybe that’s why I should be the one to talk to him. If I can explain things, if I can make him see that Tristan had nothing to do with this, it might ease some of the tension.”
Ariah hesitated, then nodded slowly. “All right. But be careful, Lilith. You ken how he can be.”
Lilith offered a small smile. “I still dinnae understand why ye think I need to be careful around me own husband. He isnae like Magnus, and ye never told me to be careful around him .”
“Ye already kenned to be careful around yer braither,” Ariah shot back, though sadness flickered in her eyes.
“Are ye nae sayin’ something? Why are ye sad?”
Ariah sighed, swiping angrily at her eyes as if they were traitors. “Nay, I ju-just thought of him again.”
Lilith sighed, reaching for her. “He’s gone and cannae hurt me anymore. I’m fine , Ariah. Truly, Damon is—for all his brooding and devotion to duty—a good man.”
“Ye promise?”
“I dinnae have to promise—ye should trust him as I do. I’ve given ye nay reason nae to.”
“Ye are right. I’m sorry, I’m just protective of ye.”
“I ken that well, and I am protective of ye as well. Ye tell me at once if Tristan starts actin’ up,” Lilith joked, knowing the man she knew Tristan to be would never.
But then again, maybe he would…
A flash of worry crossed her face, but she blinked it away before her friend could interpret it.
She rose from the bed, smoothing her skirts before heading toward the door. Her resolve was firm—she would speak to Damon and try to mend the rift between him and Tristan.
As she made her way down the corridor toward Damon’s study, she nearly collided with Ryder, who was walking quickly, his brow furrowed.
“Ryder?” she called, stopping in her tracks.
He froze, then turned to face her, his expression shadowed by guilt. “Hello, Lil,” he returned, a terse smile tugging at his lips.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, noting something curious in his eyes.
Ryder hesitated, his mind clearly elsewhere.
“I’m sorry, ye probably have somewhere to go. Dinnae let me distract ye!” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I should’ve done more to protect ye this morning. I willnae fail ye or the Laird again.”
Lilith’s heart softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “Ryder, ye did what you could. Ye were injured, and yet ye still came to protect me. I was reckless. I put us all in more danger than necessary. There’s nothin’ to apologize for.”
“Thanks, Lil. But it’s me job to keep ye safe now, nae just be a bystander, and I failed,” he said quietly, his eyes flickering just past her down the corridor.
Lilith turned around but found no one. “Are ye plannin’ to leave?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Never,” Ryder declared firmly, his voice gaining strength. “I’ll serve ye and the Laird until me dying breath. I’m just on me way to Mrs. Bryant, but I’ll be right back up.”
“Of course.” Lilith nodded, her worry easing slightly. “How is the Laird?” she asked after a moment.
Ryder’s expression darkened. “He’s in the study,” he replied. “Angry. Upset. The attacks are weighin’ heavily on him.”
Lilith bit her lip, her earlier resolve wavering.
If Damon is already in such a foul mood, would it really be wise to approach him now?
“Thank ye, Ryder,” she said finally. “I think… I’ll leave him be, for now.”
Ryder nodded firmly, before continuing on his way.
Lilith turned back toward her chambers, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty.
I hope he’s nae this mad at me… I cannae imagine bein’ on the other side of his ire.
Back in her room, she picked up her press book and slipped the flower that Damon bought her between the pages. As she flattened it against the parchment, she couldn’t help but think about their argument.
Her chest tightened at the memory of his anger, of the way his eyes had blazed when he’d scolded her for putting herself in harm’s way. A part of her understood his frustration—truly, she did.
But another part of her bristled at the way he treated her. As if she were fragile. As if she couldn’t handle herself. She had acted to protect him, and that should have mattered more than whether or not she followed his orders.
With a frustrated sigh, Lilith rose to her feet. She needed to speak with him, to clear the air before the tension between them grew further.
She found him in his study, seated at his desk, his head bent over a piece of parchment. The room smelled faintly of ink and parchment and whiskey, and the low light cast shadows over his face.
“Husband,” she began firmly, her voice much harsher than she had intended as she stepped into the room.
He looked up, his expression hardening the moment he saw her. “What do ye need, dove?”
That term of endearment was somehow not endearing at all, but it cooled her anger all the same.
A string pulled tightly behind her navel, but she forced herself to press on. “I came to talk. About what happened earlier.”
“There’s nothin’ to discuss,” he said shortly, returning his attention to the parchment. “Ye should go, I have clan matters to get back to.”
Her heart sank at his coldness, but she refused to be dismissed so easily.
“I dinnae wish for us to spend another night like this,” she insisted, her voice firmer now. “This is supposed to be our fourth night together. I want us to have it.”
Damon’s hand froze, his quill poised above the parchment. He raised his head slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “Ye’re askin’ me to spend time with ye?”
“Aye,” she said, lifting her chin. “I am.”
For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes locked onto hers as if searching for some hidden motive. Finally, he set the quill down and leaned back in his chair.
“Fine, then,” he relented, rising to his feet.
As he moved toward the door, Lilith noticed another presence in the room. Her gaze landed on Ryder, who had been seated quietly in the corner, unnoticed until now. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he offered her a polite nod.
Damon’s sharp eyes didn’t miss her reaction, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement.
“Nay,” she said quickly, averting her gaze.
“Are ye sure? Ye seemed awfully flustered just now.”
The heat in her cheeks deepened, and she turned on her heel, storming out of the study without another word. She heard Damon’s footsteps behind her, his low chuckle infuriatingly smug as he followed her down the hall.
“Lilith,” he called after her, his voice laced with amusement. “Wait.”
She ignored him, her pace quickening as she rounded a corner, her destination unclear. But before she could decide where to go, Damon caught up with her, his hand closing gently around her arm.
“If ye’re so eager to get away, ye might as well head to me chambers,” he purred, his smirk deepening. “That is where we’re goin’, after all.”