Chapter Sixteen #2
With practiced hands, Nala selected a few pieces and laid them out on the bed: two soft chemises, a pair of earth-toned skirts, three blouses with subtle embroidery at the sleeves, and two warm vests.
“Ye must keep these,” Nala said firmly. “Better they warm yer back than be eaten by moths.”
She returned to the wardrobe, inspected a few cloaks, and chose a heavy one. “This to keep ye warm.” Finally she pulled out a long nightdress of soft cream wool. “And this,” she added with a playful grin, “will keep ye warm at night. If necessary,” she added with a wink.
Ailith was sure her face flushed scarlet as she let out a groan, hiding her cheeks behind her hands. “I swear, ye are enjoying torturing me.”
Nala’s laughter bubbled up, light and full of life. “I absolutely am.”
The moment lifted something in Ailith, chasing away the heaviness that had followed her since the battle. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to laugh. For the first time in what felt like days, the air in her lungs felt lighter.
Their laughter must’ve carried, because a voice called from the doorway.
“What is this wonderful sound I hear?”
They turned to see the laird himself leaning against the doorframe.
His dark hair was pulled back into a queue, revealing strong cheekbones and the unmistakable gleam of amusement in his green eyes.
He looked every inch the laird, commanding, composed, and yet completely softened as his gaze found his wife.
Something passed between Nala and Alexander in that silent look, something tender and private, a glance that spoke of shared nights and countless whispered promises. A smile tugged at his lips, and Ailith found herself momentarily awed by it.
Then his attention shifted to her.
“How fare ye Ailith?”
She stood quickly, bowing her head. “W-well, my laird. Milady is helping me find garments. Mine… are in need of cleansing.”
As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she winced. The laird’s gaze swept over her borrowed tunic and filthy skirt. His brows lifted in quiet surprise, but blessedly, he said nothing. Instead, he exchanged a pointed glance with his wife, and Nala had the nerve to smirk.
Heat flared in Ailith’s cheeks, then spread down her neck like wildfire.
Alexander recovered swiftly, his tone warm and steady, his expression neutral. “Ye are welcome to remain here as long as ye like. Yer help has not gone unnoticed. I am grateful for all ye have done for my men.”
Before Ailith could respond, a familiar sound echoed in the hallway, the rhythmic tap of claws on stone. Teller burst into the room a moment later, tail wagging furiously, yelping in delight. The dog launched himself at Ailith with enough force to nearly knock her backward.
“Oh, Teller!” she laughed, kneeling to gather him in her arms. “I forgot I’d left ye in the courtyard!”
The laird chuckled and crouched down and scratched the dog behind the ears. “Faithful to a fault, these beasts.” With one last affectionate pat, he stood, walked over to his wife, and kissed her so thoroughly that Ailith quickly turned away.
When she peeked back, the laird was gone and Nala still looked dazed.
“I will never tire of his kisses,” Nala whispered, her voice reverent. She stood frozen for a heartbeat, then blinked herself back to the present. “Come, Teller,” she said, pulling herself together. “We’ll let yer mistress dress in peace.”
Once they were gone, Ailith sat on the edge of the bed. Her fingers brushed over the clothes Nala had left behind, fabrics softer and finer than any she’d worn in years. Perhaps they were not the most luxurious clothes ever stitched, but to her, they were treasures.
Not only for the fabrics, but for what they meant.
A new start on life.
Ailith balanced the stack of freshly rolled bandages in one arm while nudging open the heavy wooden door with her shoulder.
The large room had a line of cots along two facing walls, upon which injured men lay.
Some slept, while others stared up at the ceiling.
The healer was going from man to man, checking how they fared.
The wounded were finally able to rest. Some would heal. Others, she didn’t let herself think too long on it.
She stepped in and went to a table against the wall that was being used to hold supplies.
A woman stood next a cot and motioned her forward. “I could use a pair of those.”
Ailith brought over the bandages, noting the man in the cot, who’s pale face was scrunched from the pain of his injuries.
After depositing half the bandages, she left the room and turned to go to the next one, she nearly collided with a broad chest.
Startled, she gasped and staggered a step back. The bandages wobbled in her arms.
A familiar hand shot out, steadying them, and her.
“I’ve got ye,” Hendry said softly.
For a moment, they simply stared at one another. The air between them thick with all the things they hadn’t yet said in the light of day.
He looked every inch the warrior, sword belted at his hip, a faint shadow of exhaustion clinging to the lines around his eyes. But what struck her most was the way his gaze swept over her, slowly, almost reverently.
Her newly acquired blouse hugged her just right, and the vest Nala had insisted she wear cinched at her waist in a way that made her feel pretty. She’d barely thought of it when dressing, but now under Hendry’s gaze, she was acutely aware of every thread.
“Ye look…” he began, then cleared his throat, glancing aside for a heartbeat. When he looked back, there was a boyish uncertainty in his eyes that softened her entirely. “Ye look well,” he said at last.
Heat flared in her cheeks. “As do ye,” she murmured, then instantly regretted it. Saints above, had she just said that?
The corner of his mouth tugged upward, just enough to show he’d noticed her discomfort. “Didn’t think we would be this tongue-tied,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“Aye,” she said, managing a shy smile. “We went from years of silence to…being, well, acquainted again.”
That earned her a soft, surprised chuckle.
A long pause hung between them, filled with a thousand unsaid things, desire, doubt, the fragile thread of something rekindled.
“I will see ye later,” Hendry said at last, his voice lower now.
She nodded, eyes lifting to meet his. “Aye, I look forward to it.”
Another beat passed. Neither moved.
Then from behind the door, a man gave a pained groan, and they both blinked, startled back into motion.
Hendry took a slow step back, letting her pass.
As she brushed past him, he leaned in just close enough for her to hear: “Ye are beautiful, Ailith.”
Her breath caught. She didn’t turn, but her fingers clutched the bandages a little tighter, and her lips curved.