CHAPTER TEN
I t had been two days since the kiss, and Alexandra hadn’t left her room once.
She took her meals by the hearth, alone, turning away maids with soft refusals and claiming she had a headache.
The tray before her held warm oat bannocks, slices of cold venison, and a bowl of thick root stew seasoned with thyme.
She picked at the bannock and barely touched the rest, her appetite crushed beneath the weight of her thoughts.
This is silly. How much longer can ye think of that kiss?
The kiss haunted her like a fever that wouldn’t break.
She hated herself for how much she’d wanted it, for the way her body had melted under his touch like snow in spring.
Nicholas had awakened something in her—something raw, hungry, and terrifying.
She still felt his hands, rough and sure, on her waist, and the burn of his mouth against hers lingered like a ghost on her skin.
She pressed a hand to her lips and cursed herself under her breath. Her chest ached, not from anger or shame, but from the truth she didn’t want to face. She wanted him. Heaven help her, she wanted him like she’d never wanted anything before, and it made her feel weak.
But there was no time for such foolish longing. She had a duty—to Erica, to her brother, to peace. If she stayed here too long, Leo would lose patience, and he would not hesitate to bring war to her family’s gates.
Nicholas had no idea what Leo was capable of, and she couldn’t let her brother suffer for her delay.
She looked down at her untouched stew and sighed.
The spoon trembled in her hand, and she set it aside with a frustrated groan.
Her mind betrayed her, painting Nicholas in sharp detail—his steady gaze, the firmness of his jaw, the low timber of his voice when he’d whispered in her ear.
She should’ve slapped him for his arrogance, not kissed him back like a starving girl offered bread.
Pulling the wool shawl tighter around her shoulders, she stood and moved to the door and opened it.
"Ye there. Could ye fetch me maid, Erica, to come to me chambers?" she said to a passing maid.
"Aye, Mistress. Right away," the maid said and scurried out of sight.
Alexandra moved back into her room and stared out the window at the gray sky and the moors beyond.
Somewhere out there, her future was waiting—cold, arranged, and merciless.
But her body still burned with memory, a cruel reminder of what she couldn’t have.
Nicholas had unsettled her soul, and no matter how she tried to bury it, her heart kept clawing its way back to him.
Her fingers tightened around the windowsill, knuckles white.
“Get a grip, ye daft girl,” she whispered to herself, jaw clenched. “He kissed ye like he owned ye, and ye let him.”
But no matter how many times she scolded herself, the shame and thrill twisted together like two vines, choking out reason.
She needed to leave—soon. Every moment spent in this place only deepened her confusion and dulled her sense of duty.
She would tell Nicholas, tonight, if she had to, that she was leaving and taking Erica with her.
Even if it shattered something inside her, it was the only way to keep her world from crumbling.
The knock on the old wooden door was soft and polite, barely louder than the crackle of the hearth. Alexandra looked up from her untouched bowl of stew, eyes weary from hours of restless thought.
"Come in," she said.
Erica stepped in, arms full of folded linen and a hopeful look tugging at her lips.
“Ye called for me, me lady,” Erica said gently, setting the linens on a nearby chair. “Ye’ve nae eaten much again.”
“I’m fine,” Alexandra replied, though her voice lacked conviction. She shifted in her seat, wrapping her shawl tighter as though it might shield her from her own thoughts. “Just tired, that’s all.”
Erica didn’t buy it, of course. She was sharp-eyed and kind-hearted, and had known Alexandra long enough to see through such thin excuses.
She moved to stir the fire, letting the silence hang for a moment.
Then, without looking up, she said, “Ye’ve been hidin’ up here two days, Mistress. This isnae like ye.”
“I ken,” Alexandra said softly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I just… cannae stop thinkin’ about Caelan. He must be worried sick by now.”
Erica turned her head, her brows furrowing with concern. “I’m sure he’s doin’ all he can to find ye.”
Alexandra stood and paced toward the window, staring out at the gray moorland stretching beyond the stone walls. “Have ye heard anythin’ from the servants? Any word about the Sinclairs and McLarens? Any sign of battle brewin’?”
Erica shook her head, stepping nearer. “Nay. Just the usual gossip about the kitchens and a few broken fences. Nothin’ about swords or banners.”
Alexandra crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “How long do ye think it'll take before Leo or me brother figures out where I am? They’ll come—both of them. And when they do, they’ll be at the gates, demandin’ me release.”
Erica blinked, her voice quiet. “Are ye… wantin’ to be released?”
Alexandra turned sharply, eyes narrowing. “Of course I am! I never asked to be brought here!”
“Aye,” Erica said, her voice still calm, “but ye’ve nae gone screamin’ from the castle either.”
Alexandra flushed and turned away, the fire’s heat prickling at her cheeks. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” Erica pressed, stepping closer. “Ye’ve barely left yer room since the laird returned with the bairn. Ye’ve been sittin’ here, stew goin’ cold, and pretendin’ ye daenae care. What happened?”
“I daenae want to talk about it,” Alexandra said quickly, her voice rising just enough to cut the air.
Erica raised a brow. “So it’s the laird, then.”
Alexandra’s silence answered for her. She stood rigid by the hearth, hands gripping the back of the chair as if bracing herself against a storm.
Erica sighed, stepping back with a knowing look. “I see. Well… he’s nae exactly easy to ignore, is he?”
“Nay,” Alexandra admitted, voice low, almost a whisper. “He’s… nae.”
“Did he do somethin’?” Erica asked carefully. “Somethin’ ye dinnae want?”
Alexandra turned toward her sharply. “Nay! He dinnae—he just… kissed me.”
Erica blinked. “Ach. Did ye kiss him back?”
Alexandra’s face burned as she looked away. “That’s none of yer business.”
“That’s a yes, then,” Erica said with a slight smirk. “Me lady, I may be yer maid, but I’ve eyes. Ye’ve been floatin’ through this place like a ghost ever since.”
“I hate him,” Alexandra muttered.
“Do ye?” Erica asked, her tone gentle.
Alexandra said nothing. She moved back to her chair and sat slowly, her gaze on the dying fire. The flames flickered in her eyes, but it was the storm inside her that burned brighter.
“I hate that I kissed him,” she added finally. “Hate that it meant somethin’. It shouldnae have. He’s the enemy.”
Erica sat beside her, resting her hands in her lap. “Maybe. Or maybe things arenae as simple as they used to be.”
Alexandra exhaled slowly, her voice bitter. “He took me. He's put me only family at risk. And yet…”
“And yet ye feel somethin’,” Erica finished for her, nodding. “That’s what frightens ye.”
“Aye,” Alexandra whispered. “It does.”
They sat in silence for a while, the fire crackling low between them.
Outside, the wind beat softly against the shutters, a reminder that time moved forward whether they were ready or not.
Alexandra pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders again, but it did little to keep out the chill creeping through her bones.
“Maybe ye should talk to him,” Erica said after a time.
“Nay,” Alexandra said firmly. “I cannae let him see how he’s gotten under me skin. I just need to leave. Before everythin’ gets worse.”
Erica looked at her with quiet sympathy. “Then maybe ye ought to start plannin’ a way to deal with all this. Because if ye wait much longer, it might nae be yer choice anymore.”
Alexandra stared at the fire. Deep down, she knew Erica was right. But part of her feared it was already too late.
The next day, the sun shone brightly over O'Donnell Castle. Alexandra ached to go outside in the sunshine, but she did not want to run into Nicholas. She felt ashamed of how she handled his kiss.
"Me lady, ’tis Erica. Open the door," Erica knocked on the door.
Alexandra opened it. "I'm nae hungry Erica…" she started to say, expecting Erica to be holding breakfast for her.
"That's fine with me. I dinnae bring ye food. I have come to force ye to take a walk with me," she said, grabbing Alexandra's shawl and placing it on her shoulders.
"Nae, I daenae want to leave the room," she said.
"I saw Nicholas ride out of the castle walls earlier. I denae think he has returned," Erica said with a lifted brow.
"Aye? Well, I could use some fresh air," Alexandra said.
The two walked out of the castle into the courtyard. Alexandra's eyes darted here and there for a sign of Nicholas, but she didn't see him. She looped her arm in Erica's and they slowly strolled along.
"What troubles ye so deeply?" Erica asked.
“Erica… I cannae keep lyin’ to myself," she said.
The maid paused, “Aye?”
“I’m feelin’ somethin’ toward him,” Alexandra admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “The laird… Nicholas. I daenae ken what it is, but I cannae stop thinkin’ about him.”
“Then why are ye hidin’ up there like a caged bird in yer room?”
“Because I cannae act on it,” Alexandra said, standing abruptly. “I was supposed to be betrothed to Leo when he took me. Leo will nae forget that. And I daenae ken what this feelin’ is. Nicholas is a brute and he's arrogant and takes what he wants. I cannae be with a man like that."
“But ye arenae married to Leo yet,” Erica countered, arms crossed. “There’s still time to make a different choice.”