Alexandra turned toward her, frustration sparking in her eyes. “There’s nay choice to be made! I agreed to the match. If I break it, it’ll bring trouble down on me brother’s head. War on our people."
“Trouble’s already knockin’, if ye ask me,” Erica said, her voice low. “But what about what ye want? When does that matter?”
Alexandra hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It doesnae matter. It cannae. Me duty is to me clan and to peace.”
“Peace is worth misery?” Erica said firmly. "Marriage is final, me lady. Once ye tie yerself to a man, there’s nay easy way to undo it.”
Alexandra’s voice cracked as she replied, “Leo threatened war, Erica. He said if I dinnae marry him, he’d raise a blade against me brother.”
“And do ye believe he truly would?” Erica asked, eyes narrowing. “Or is he just a bully with a title?”
“Does it matter?” Alexandra’s voice rose. “Caelan wouldnae risk it. We cannae afford another feud.”
Erica walked closer, softer now. “And what happens if ye marry Leo, and he’s cruel? Cold? Will yer brother protect ye then? What if he declares war even after ye marry him? Can he truly be trusted to keep his word? Nae from what I've heard of Leo Rankin," Erica said.
Alexandra’s chest tightened, breath catching. “He has to honor his word. That’s what this is all for.” But she was not so sure now. Erica brought up a good point. If she married Leo and he attacked the Sinclair clan anyway, she would be devastated.
Erica touched her arm gently. “Ye want to protect yer brother. But who will protect ye , lass? Yer heart? Yer soul, should Leo nae keep his word after yer married?”
“Aye, that is one me mind. I daenae ken what to do. Laird O’Donnell has made me mind confused. And all it took was one kiss, and now I cannae think straight.”
"What is so special about this kiss, then?" Erica asked.
“He kissed me like a man who sees me,” she said. “The real me. That’s more than some husbands ever give their wives.”
"Well that sounds—" Erica said, but before she could finish.
“I feel alive when he’s near… like he’s stirred somethin’ inside me I dinnae even ken was sleepin’.” Alexandra continued.
“Then fight for it,” Erica said. “Even if it’s just for yerself.”
Alexandra looked away, pain clouding her features. “And doom me brother to bloodshed?”
Erica’s voice softened, kind but resolute. “Or maybe—just maybe—trust that there’s another way. That peace and happiness daenae have to be enemies.”
Alexandra sank, her heart a knot of longing and fear. She wanted Nicholas more than she dared admit, but duty weighed heavily on her shoulders. Erica was right—marriage was forever. And forever was a long time to live in regret.
The morning sun bathed the castle courtyard in pale gold as Alexandra and Erica stepped through to the other side.
Their cloaks fluttered with each step, the cobblestones damp from last night’s rain.
Alexandra tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her thoughts still clouded by the conversation.
But her stride faltered when she caught sight of a small figure sitting alone on the low stone wall by the herb garden.
“Isn’t that the wee lad?” she asked in a hush, nodding toward the boy.
"Is it?" Erica said.
“Aye,” Alexandra murmured, heart tugging. Charles sat with his knees drawn up, a single pebble rolling between his palms, eyes fixed on the ground. He looked far too small for the weight he carried.
Without thinking, Alexandra walked toward him, her voice gentle. “Charles, are ye out here by yerself, lad?”
The boy looked up, blinking at her with those same eyes as his father. “Aye. Da’s busy.”
Alexandra knelt before him, her smile soft. “Well then, would ye like to join us for a wee stroll in the gardens?”
He hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Can I run, too?”
She chuckled, already loosening her cloak. “Run? We’ll make a game of it.”
Within moments, the three of them were in the garden, the hedges alive with laughter. Charles darted ahead, little legs pumping, giggles spilling as Alexandra chased after him. “I’ll tag ye, lad!” she cried, dodging past a rosebush.
“Nay, ye willnae!” he shrieked with joy, weaving between trimmed shrubs and skipping over stones.
Erica clapped her hands and joined in the chase. “He’s as fast as a hare, this one!”
Alexandra feigned exhaustion, hands on her knees. “Mercy! I cannae catch him.”
Charles spun, grinning widely, and tapped her arm. “Tag! Ye’re it!”
“Oh, now ye’ve done it,” Alexandra said, laughing as she lunged at him. He squealed, running for cover behind Erica, who threw her arms out in mock defense.
“Nay usin’ me as a shield, cheeky thing!” Erica cried, spinning to dodge.
The laughter echoed off the stone walls, and for a time, Alexandra forgot everything—her fears, the betrothal, even Nicholas.
All that remained was the brightness in Charles’ eyes, the sound of his mirth, the lightness blooming in her chest. She caught him at last, scooping him up and twirling him in the air. He laughed so hard, he hiccuped.
She set him down gently, smoothing his dark hair. “Ye’ve a sweet laugh, Charles. It does me heart good to hear it.”
He looked up at her, breathless and red-cheeked. “I like it when ye smile.”
Alexandra swallowed, touched in a way she hadn’t expected. “And I like when ye smile, too.”
They walked slowly after that, the game spent, Charles holding Alexandra’s hand with quiet trust. As they passed beneath the budding trees, her heart ached—not with sorrow, but with the stirring of something warmer. Something closer to hope.