Chapter 4 #2
"Because I'm tellin' ye the truth." Ada turned back to face him. "Believe it or nae. I cannae control what ye think of me. But I willnae stand here and be accused of somethin' I didnae dae."
Magnus opened his mouth, searching for words that wouldn't come. Part of him wanted to believe her, to think she was just another person trapped by forces beyond her control, same as him.
But Freydis had seemed trapped too. Had seemed frightened and alone and desperate for protection. And she'd lied to him every day for months.
"I need time," he said finally.
"Time fer what?"
"Tae decide if I believe ye. Tae decide if this marriage can work."
Ada laughed—short, harsh, bitter. "Ye dinnae have time. Ye have a fortnight, same as me. And at the end of it, we either marry or face the consequences."
"Then I suppose we'll both be decidin' quickly."
Then he left, closing the door softly behind him, and tried very hard not to think about the look in her eyes when she'd said she'd used him to survive.
The evening meal was a tense affair.
Ada sat at the high table in the great hall, positioned between Brian and an empty chair that should have held Magnus. The laird himself sat at the far end, speaking quietly with Torvald, his expression unreadable.
He hadn't looked at her once since she'd entered.
The hall was only half-full, guards and servants eating quickly, conversation muted. This wasn't a celebration. It was an obligation.
Ada pushed food around her plate, her appetite gone. The bread was fresh, the stew rich with mutton and root vegetables, but everything tasted like ash in her mouth.
"Ye should eat, me lady," Brian said beside her, his tone polite but firm. "The crossin’ was difficult, and ye'll need yer strength fer the days ahead."
"I'm nae hungry."
"Nevertheless."
Ada forced herself to take a bite, chew, swallow. It sat heavy in her stomach.
Across the hall, she caught sight of Donnan. He stood near one of the side tables, not eating, just watching. When his eyes met hers, he smiled—that same easy, unsettling smile that made her skin crawl.
She looked away quickly.
A moment later, Donnan moved. He crossed the hall with casual confidence, weaving between tables until he reached the high table. He stopped directly behind Ada's chair.
"Me lady," he said, his voice loud enough to carry. "I wanted tae make certain ye are comfortable. If there's anything ye need..."
"She's fine," Magnus's voice cut through the hall like a blade.
Ada's head snapped up. So did Donnan's. Magnus had risen from his seat, his attention fixed on Donnan with an intensity that made the temperature in the hall seem to drop.
"The lady has everythin’ she needs," Magnus continued, his tone pleasant but edged with something dangerous. "Ye can return tae yer meal. Thank ye fer askin’."
Donnan's smile didn't falter. "Of course, me laird. I only wished tae ensure Lady Ada's—"
"I said thank ye." Pleasantness that disguised a cold command.
For a moment, Donnan held his ground. Then he inclined his head, respect that looked more like mockery, and moved away.
Ada released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Magnus's gaze flicked to her briefly. She mouthed "thank ye," though she wasn't sure he saw it. He'd already sat back down, returning to his conversation with Torvald as though nothing had happened.
But something had happened. Magnus had defended her, sent her father's man away with nothing more than a command.
It shouldn't have warmed her. Shouldn't have mattered.
But it did.
The meal ended shortly after. Ada excused herself, grateful to escape the weight of too many eyes. She made her way back to the east tower, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
As she rounded the corner near her chamber, voices drifted from an alcove ahead––low, rough Highland accents. Ada slowed. These weren't Magnus's people.
"––cannae believe the king's forcin' this match."
"After what Haraldson did? Aye, it's madness."
"Hush. Ye shouldnae speak of it."
"Why nae? Everyone kens what he did. Poor woman was with child, and he killed her."
"Ye dinnae ken anything. None of us dae. We werenae there."
"But she died, didnae she? Young and healthy one day, dead the next. And the laird wouldnae even hold a proper mournin'. Just buried her and the bairn in the dead of night like they were criminals."
A pause. Then, quieter: "Dae ye think he'll dae the same tae this one?"
"God help her if he daes. I wouldnae want tae be in her place fer all the gold in Scotland."
Ada pressed her back against the cold stone wall, her heart hammering. The men's footsteps faded as they moved away, their conversation shifting to safer topics.
But Ada couldn't move, couldn't breathe properly.
She'd heard the rumors before, of course. Everyone had. Magnus Haraldson, the Serpent of Barra, who'd murdered his pregnant wife. But hearing them spoken aloud here, in his own keep…
It made them real in a way they hadn't been before.
Ada forced herself to move, to continue down the corridor to her chamber. Her hands shook as she pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind her.
She leaned against the door, sliding down to the floor.