Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The summons came quietly. A maid found Elaina in the healer’s chamber.
“Me lady, the laird wishes tae see ye in the courtyard.”
Elaina’s hands stilled over the herbs she had been sorting. She couldn’t quite recognize the feeling that seized her. Anticipation, perhaps, or the lingering weight of everything left unspoken between them that morning.
“Aye,” she said at last, rising.
She brushed her hands clean and followed without further question. She passed through the busy corridors without paying much attention to what was happening around her. The courtyard was alive with movement when she stepped into it several moments later.
Steel met steel in sharp, rhythmic clashes.
The air carried the scent of sweat and dust and the low murmur of men training, with the occasional bark of instruction cutting through it all.
It was a world far removed from the quiet of the healer’s space.
The world was louder, harsher and grounded in a different kind of purpose.
Her eyes found him immediately.
Duncan stood near the far end of the yard, with a sword in hand. Another was resting against a wooden rack beside him. His stance was relaxed, but there was nothing careless in it. As always, his every movement was precise and controlled, as though even stillness required discipline.
He saw her and straightened.
“Elaina.” Her name carried easily across the space.
She crossed the courtyard toward him, aware of the glances that followed her, though she did not acknowledge them. Her focus remained on him alone.
“Ye wished tae see me,” she said as she reached him.
“I did.” There was no hesitation in his tone today. He was all business. “The Council met today and we discussed what happened in the village. It has agreed that ye… shall remain.”
Elaina stilled. She had not expected that. Her gaze searched his face, as though trying to understand what had changed.
“They believe sending ye away now would only place ye in greater danger,” he continued. “And I agree.”
Something in her chest tightened again. She knew it would not be easy to leave this place, to leave him. She reminded herself that she needed to be strong, stronger than she had ever been before.
“I was nae asking fer permission tae leave,” she said quietly.
“I ken,” he replied. “But I will nae let ye walk intae harm’s way, nae when there is another option.”
Elaina held his gaze, and she could feel the familiar resistance rising within her, but it did not come as easily as it once had.
“Ye cannae keep me here against me will,” she whispered.
“I dinnae intend tae,” Duncan answered. “But whether ye remain or ye go—”
He reached for the second sword, lifting it from the rack before offering it to her.
“Ye will learn tae protect yerself.”
Elaina blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
“I…” She glanced down at the weapon, then back at him. “That isnae necessary.”
“It is,” Duncan said simply.
She hesitated. “I am a healer,” she added. “Nae a fighter.”
“And yet,” he replied, “ye were nearly taken in the middle of a crowded market.”
The words struck. Elaina’s jaw tightened slightly.
“That wasnae because I couldnae defend meself,” she said. “It was because I was stopped.”
“And next time?” Duncan asked.
Silence followed. Because there would be a next time. They both knew it.
He stepped closer, placing the sword into her hand despite her hesitation. It felt heavier than she had expected.
“Next time, ye’ll be ready,” he promised and she knew he meant it.
Elaina looked down at the weapon, her fingers curling uncertainly around the hilt. This was not her world, not the one she had chosen. But neither was the danger that followed her.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
“And ye think this will make a difference?” she asked.
“I ken it will,” Duncan replied.
There was no doubt in him. That, more than anything, made it difficult to refuse.
Elaina exhaled softly. “Very well.”
A faint flicker of approval passed through his expression.
“Good.”
The sword felt wrong in her hand. It felt too heavy, too long and too alive, in a way she did not understand.
Elaina adjusted her grip again, her fingers tightening around the hilt as though force alone might give her control over it. It did not. The weight pulled unevenly through her arm, her balance shifting with every movement, and her stance was uncertain despite her effort to steady it.
“Ye’re holding it too stiffly,” Duncan said, stepping closer. “Relax yer wrist.”
“It is a blade,” she replied, with her breath slightly uneven. “I am nae certain it is meant tae be relaxed.”
He showed the faintest hint of amusement in his expression, but it did not linger.
“Control daesnae come from tension,” he said. “It comes from kenning where the weight is.”
Easy fer ye tae say.
Elaina adjusted again, loosening her grip just enough to follow his instruction. The blade dipped slightly, unfamiliar in the change, but she forced herself to hold it there.
“Better,” Duncan murmured. He stepped back. “Now, again.”
She barely had time to prepare before he moved. This time she lifted the sword to meet his, bracing herself for the impact, but the force still traveled sharply through her arm, jarring her shoulder and sending a dull ache down to her fingers.
She winced. Duncan saw it.
“Dinnae fight the blade,” he said. “Let it move with ye.”
“I am trying,” she replied, feeling frustration slipping through, despite her effort to keep it contained.
“Again,” he stepped in, slower this time.
He was guiding rather than striking. His blade met hers with less force, angling instead of colliding, showing her the movement rather than testing it.
“Shift yer weight,” he instructed. “Here…”
His hand went to her waist, guiding her stance just slightly to the side. The touch was firm, both grounding and distracting in equal measure. Elaina’s breath caught for the briefest moment before she forced herself to focus.
“Like this?” she asked, though her voice was quieter now.
“Aye,” he said. “Now move.”
And she did. Awkwardly, but she moved, nonetheless. The motion was unsteady, her balance faltering halfway through, with the blade dipping too low. Duncan corrected it immediately, his hand lifting hers, adjusting the angle.
“Nay, higher. Ye’re leaving yerself open.”
Elaina exhaled sharply.
“I have been open this entire time,” she muttered.
Duncan’s lips curved faintly. “Then we’ll fix that.”
They tried again and again. Each movement felt just as unnatural as the last. Her arm grew heavier with each strike, her grip less certain no matter how many times she adjusted it. The blade dragged instead of flowed, her stance never quite settling where it should.
Then, another strike caught her off guard. The force of it pushed her back a full step, with the sword slipping in her hand before she barely managed to catch it again.
Frustration flared inside of her, sharp and immediate.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, lowering the blade slightly. “I am nae meant fer this.”
Duncan did not lower his.
“Ye are,” he said calmly.
Elaina tightened her grip again, irritation rising beneath her skin.
“Ye make it sound so simple,” she pouted.
“It is nae simple,” he answered. “But it is necessary.”
The certainty in his voice once again left no space to argue. And yet, the frustration remained, because no matter how steady he was, how patient, how careful in his instruction, her body refused to follow.
Another attempt caused another misstep. The blade tilted wrong again, her balance shifting too far forward this time before she caught herself. Duncan reached out, steadying her once more before she could stumble. His hand lingered for a fraction longer than needed.
“Again,” he ordered.
Something in her snapped. The word struck sharper than it should have, cutting through what little patience she had left. Elaina stepped back, lowering the sword with more force than necessary.
“This is useless,” she said, shaking her head. “I cannae even hold the thing properly.”
Duncan did not move.
“We keep going,” he said, looking as steady as before.
Her eyes flashed.
“Why?” she demanded. “So ye can prove what, exactly? That I am incapable?”
He frowned. “That isnae what I’m daein’.”
“Then what?” she pressed, the words spilling faster now, edged with something deeper than irritation. “Dae ye simply wish tae remind me how helpless I am?”
The word hung between them. It forced him to move and close the space she had tried to create.
“That is the last thing I want,” he said, standing so close she could feel the warmth of his breath of her lips.
Elaina held her ground, though her breath had not yet steadied.
“Then what is it?” she asked, though her voice had softened without her meaning it to.
“I want ye tae be able tae stand on yer own,” he spoke, not taking his eyes off of her. “I want ye tae never be in a position where someone can take hold of ye and ye cannae stop them.”
The memory flashed between them without needing to be spoken: the market, then her being dragged away.
“Dae ye think,” he continued, quieter still, “there is anything I care about more than ensuring yer safety?”
The question settled between them. She had no answer to that, at least no answer she could give aloud. She could see the answer in his eyes, in the way he stood before her, refusing to move, in the way he had come for her, without hesitation.
The answer was nothing. There was nothing he cared about more.
The realization sent a quiet, unsteady feeling through her chest. They were too close. She felt it now, the warmth of him, the faint brush of his breath and the way the world around them seemed to narrow to just that moment.
Her grip on the sword loosened.
Forgotten.
Her gaze dropped to his lips before she caught herself. But it was enough for him to notice. He moved just slightly closer. And for a moment, it felt inevitable, like something that had been building between them would finally be allowed to happen.
Elaina did not step back. She could not. Her breath stilled as the space between them disappeared…
“Me laird.” The voice cut through the moment.
Both of them stilled. Two guards had entered the courtyard, halting just inside, clearly not expecting to interrupt, but too far in to retreat unnoticed.
Duncan stepped back first. The distance returned all at once. The moment was broken. Elaina exhaled slowly, while her thoughts were struggling to catch up with what had almost happened.
“Aye,” he said, his voice steady as he turned slightly toward them.
The world resumed. But something between them had changed and neither of them could pretend otherwise.