Chapter 25
“What do ye mean she hasnae left the eastern wing all day?”
The guard who reported to Archer every day regarding River’s whereabouts and well-being seemed rattled by the sudden rise in his voice. At first, Archer had thought that maybe spying on her like this was overkill, but now he had been proven right.
There was a reason for him to do it, after all, and a good one.
“I daenae ken why, me Laird,” said the young guard.
He was average in every way—quite handsome but not enough to stand out from the others, average in height, with the same hair as most guards in the castle, and so he was entirely inconspicuous.
Archer had chosen him for that exact reason, and not so much for his insight.
“Did ye ask around?”
“I…I didnae think to,” said the guard, his cheeks turning a furious red color.
“Never mind,” said Archer with a wave of his hand. “Thank ye, ye may leave.”
When the door to his study fell shut, Archer poured himself a cup of wine and walked over to the window, staring outside at the courtyard.
Why was River locking herself up in her chambers once more?
Was she trying to make a point? He couldn’t imagine for what, but then again, women were often mysterious to him.
He could understand war. He could understand complex strategy, history, rations—everything that worked behind the scenes to move the world.
But he couldn’t always understand the mind of the woman, least of all a woman like River.
He did enjoy the challenge, though.
Draining his cup, Archer put it down and left his study. It was time for his afternoon rounds, and he made his way around the castle, ending up in the courtyard.
He found Layla there, along with Arya and Colby, the three of them playing together. It was a strange sight, seeing the three of them without River there, and it gave Archer pause. Had she not even come out for this? She never let the children out of her sight if she didn’t have to.
Did somethin’ happen to her? Nay…nay, I would have heard of it.
When they saw him, the children rushed up to him all smiles. Archer had become fond of them despite himself, and he had to restrain himself from reaching over to ruffle Colby’s hair.
With a killer on the loose, Archer didn’t want to give anyone any ideas. It was better for him to keep his distance, he thought. It was better to pretend he didn’t care about anyone if it meant it would keep them all safe.
“Good afternoon, me Laird,” called Layla with her usual bright grin. “Are ye doin’ yer rounds?”
“Aye,” said Archer. “Where’s me wife?”
“River’s fallen ill, me Laird,” said Colby in his sweet, childish voice. “She sent us out to play without her.”
“Ill?” asked Archer with a frown. “Why did nae one tell me?”
Colby’s lips pursed shut, while Layla faltered for a moment.
“I…I daenae ken, me Laird,” she said. “I didnae think it was me place.”
“It wasnae yer duty,” Archer assured her. “But I should have been informed.”
His heart raced in his chest, fear gripping him. They had just been to the lake. What if she had caught the winter fever? It was summer, that much was true, but the water of the lake was freezing all year round.
“Is she very ill?” Archer asked.
“Nay, nay,” Layla assured him, but she didn’t seem so sure. Behind her, Arya looked grim. It was the first time Archer had seen her like this, as if she feared something terribly and didn’t want to tell him.
That thought was enough for Archer to excuse himself and leave the courtyard, making a straight line for the eastern wing. He didn’t stop, not even to greet those who passed him, and by the time he was outside River’s chambers, he was out of breath.
He hadn’t even realized he had been running. His feet had simply taken him there, with him only realizing it all when he was outside the door.
He knocked once, then entered, as he tended to do. He barely ever waited for River to call him, and especially now that his heart was racing, threatening to jump right out of his chest.
The inside of the fore chamber was dark, the curtains drawn, only a few candles lighting up the pace. The main light came from the bedroom, where a large fire roared in the heart, and Archer made his way there to find River in bed already, though it was not that late.
She was sleeping. Archer approached her slowly, quietly, making sure he wouldn’t wake her. He grabbed a chair and placed it next to the bed, lowering himself into it, making sure the wood wouldn’t creak.
From where he sat, River looked as she always did, if a little more dishevelled than usual. Her hair was like a dark halo around her face, spilling like ink over her pillow, her lashes dark against her cheek, her rosy lips slightly parted as she breathed deeply in sleep.
Archer stayed like that, in his seat, watching River—the bow of her lips, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamed. He made sure not to make a sound, and he didn’t realize how the time passed as he sat there, watching her sleep.
The room had darkened even more by the time River opened her eyes. For a moment, she looked around as if disoriented. It had been a long nap, and it didn’t surprise Archer that she would need a few moments to get her bearings.
When she saw him, she perked up a little, sitting up against the headboard, and Archer was relieved to see that she was well.
“River…I heard ye havenae left the room all day,” he said as he came to sit next to her on the bed. Up close, she did look a little strange, as if some of the color had drained from her face. “Are ye ill?”
River shook her head, but she didn’t immediately respond verbally. “I’m nae ill,” she assured him. “It’s…it’s somethin’ else.”
“Naethin’ serious, I hope,” said Archer with a small, teasing smile, though he felt anything but humorous in that moment.
“Nay,” River assured him. “I am quite well.”
I am glad to hear that,” said Archer, and he rose from his chair to pull River into a kiss. “Can I stay with ye tonight? To take care of ye? Let us say it will be our seventh night together.”
Much to his surprise, River barked out a laugh. “Do ye really wish to waste the seventh night on taking care of me?”
Despite her laugh, there was a look in her eyes that Archer could only describe as hopeful, as if she wanted him to say yes. And what else could Archer say? He had been the one to suggest it in the first place.
“Of course,” said Archer. “I cannae imagine anythin’ more important than this.”
It wasn’t a waste to him, not if it meant he was spending time with River and nursing her back to health. It didn’t matter what they were doing as long as they were together, and the thought gave him a short pause.
He had never considered this before. He had never considered the fact that he simply wanted to be close to River, to have her presence in his every day life, even if they weren’t doing anything of note.
The days with her were better, brighter.
Just her presence by his side was enough to lift his spirits, and he would trade any fun activity without her for some time with her.
River’s smile widened as she looked at him and she suddenly surged forward, pulling him into her arms and into another kiss. For a moment, Archer was stunned, but then he quickly recovered and kissed her back, laughing softly against her lips.
“Ye can still surprise me,” he said. “Even now that I have me memories.”
“I daenae think that’s odd,” said River. “Ye didnae ken me so well.”
“But I ken ye now.”
He didn’t know her as well as he wanted to.
There were still some things he was missing, things about her he didn’t know, but he was eager to find all of it out.
They had all their lives ahead of them for him to do so, once every threat in his life had been eliminated.
They had all the time in the world for him to show her who he was, too.
“Aye,” said River. “I suppose ye ken some things now.”
“Some things?”
“Some things.”
Archer smiled despite himself, a hand reaching up to run through his dark hair. “So tell me somethin’ I daenae ken.”
For a moment, River was silent, as if she was contemplating something. Then, she leaned closer to him, her hand creeping over his own where it was resting on the covers.
“I’m nae ill,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
Archer froze. It was as if the entire world had stopped spinning around him, and then had picked up speed, the room swaying around him. For a moment, he wondered if he had even heard River correctly. Surely not, he thought. Surely, she had not just told him that she was pregnant.
They had not been careful, that much was true. He had not been careful. The fault was his. He was the one who should have shown restraint. He was the one who should have at least taken some precautions so this wouldn’t happen.
But now it had happened, and Archer would be lying if he didn’t admit a part of him—a big part of him—was glad for it.
He wanted an heir. He wanted a child, and he wanted River to be the mother of that child.
It made everything else more complicated, of course.
There was still someone after him, there was still risk, there was still so much to be done.
But River was pregnant and no matter how much he wished he had planned this better, the moment for him to become a father had come.
He had to act now if he was to keep River and the child safe. He had to do something, to take control of this situation, to find whoever was after him. If the man who had attacked him found out there was so much to lose for him, he would surely go after River and the child.
“I must…I must move back to the other wing,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.
His stomach had tied itself in knots, bile rising to the back of his throat and leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
The more he thought about everything that needed to be done, the more he thought about everything that could happen to River and his unborn child, the more that knot tightened, leaving him nauseous and gasping for air.
“Are ye nae glad?”
The question was spoken softly, hesitantly, as if River didn’t want to know the truth—as if she already knew the answer. Archer swallowed in a dry throat, wondering how to explain this to her.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t glad, not exactly.
The thought of a child filled him with joy, with enthusiasm.
He imagined everything he would do as a father, all the ways he would raise that child to be happy, in a way he had never been.
But the thought also filled him with fear—fear of failure, fear of not being there while the child grew up, fear that something would happen to it before it even had the chance to take its first breath.
But he didn’t want to burden River with all these thoughts. He didn’t want to frighten her.
“It’s for the best if I keep me distance for a while,” he said, not giving River any further explanation.
He stood from his chair, letting go of River’s hand, and made his way towards the sitting room.
There, he paused by the archway and looked at River over his shoulder to find her staring at him with wide, wet eyes, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly as if his words had shocked her.
“If ye need me, I’ll be in me old chambers.
But I suggest ye talk to Keir instead. He will let me ken what ye need. ”
With that, he was gone, disappearing into the hallway and closing the door firmly behind him, as if he could lock it through sheer force of will and keep River and the baby safe inside.
For a while, he roamed the halls of the castle like a spectre, as if lost. In a way, he was—he was lost in his thoughts, in the fear that something terrible would happen and he would be too late to stop it.
But he was done reacting. He was done waiting for the next attack, for the killer to show himself. He had to do something to be a step ahead once more, to come out on top. He had to become the hunter.
I will keep her safe. I will keep them both safe, nae matter what it takes.