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“Aye, that is why they are in storage, Caelan.” Arran spoke as he might to a child.

“And if we need them? Our guards willnae be caught hacking through iron armors and dying for naethin’.”

Arran crossed his big arms. “Those lads have stacks of weapons in their homes. We made sure… remember?”

Caelan sighed. “Why are ye here, Arran? Dinnae ye have to entertain yer guest?”

“That is why I came to find ye, brother. We were about to sit for breakfast when I heard about your work this mornin’. I had to see for myself.”

“Tis naethin’ to worry yerself about. We have to keep up our defenses. ‘Tis what I’m doing.”

“If ye insist. When ye get the time, ye’ll tell me what that rope did to offend ye.”

Caelan stared at his hand, startled at the length of rope he’d subconsciously coiled around them. “Ach… I was only… practicing. Ye ken these things leave ye when ye dinnae practice. ‘Tis nae an uncommon occurrence for a lad to have rope, is it?”

Arran pursed his lips, his eyes boring holes in Caelan as he proceeded to awkwardly untie his hands. “When are ye goin’ to be honest with yerself, brother?”

Caelan found the stack of weapons behind them a good distraction. He faced them, turning away from Arran’s scrutinizing gaze. “I am always honest,brother,” he replied, twisting the last word sarcastically.

“Aye. That nonsense ye said yesterday about Eilidh. It bothers ye. Am I correct?”

Caelan unhooked a dagger and ran his fingers over its jagged surface. “What nonsense?”

Arran hissed in frustration. Caelan expected his brother to have him in a chokehold in a matter of minutes if he didn't stop beating around the bush. But he was too embarrassed to speak about it, so he remained silent.

“Has the scar healed?”

Caelan gave him a sharp glance at the abrupt change of topic. “I have many battle wounds. Which one do ye want to discuss?”

“The mighty slash on yer gut. The one everybody thought was going to be the death of ye. We were all waiting for the day ye breathed yer last breath. Ye ken who refused to give up?”

Caelan struck the dagger into the wall and spun on his brother. “Ye think I dinnae hate this?! It is pure torture to watch her with somebody else, but it is what I have to do!”

“Says who? Ye fool!” Arran shouted back. “What is the point of this torture if the two of ye actuallywanteach other?”

Caelan gave the weapon a wide swing at a nearby practice dummy, before he struck at it with Logan’s face in mind. “It is me decision, and if I am naething else, I am a man of me word.”

“Yer word is the very thin’ that will end ye. Do ye want us to send her to work in another keep?”

Caelan’s eyes went wide. “No!”

“So, yer plan is to stay here with this new wife of yers. With Eilidh around. Serving ye. Sounds grand.”

“Didnae ye and Evan tell me that another man will… will—”

“Marry her?” Arran completed, with that knowing expression of his. “Ye’re right about that. In fact, it is another reason why I had to talk with ye. Logan has nae been able to shut up about Eilidh. Mighty annoying, I must confess. He wants her, brother, an’ it willnae be long before he asks for her hand. Now, I cannae tell me friend to look away from a good lass if ye dinnae show any interest.”

Suddenly, Caelan felt all of the fight drain from him. “Despite the things I said… somehow, I almost crossed the line with her last night.”

Interest sparked in Arran’s blue eyes. “What did ye do?”

“Tis what Ialmostdid that bothers me. If she didnae stop me, I… What am I supposed to do, Arran? She cannae be the one for me. It willnae be right for the clan.”

Arran scoffed. “Caelan, even the Laird didnae marry for the clan. Why must ye burden yerself with it?”

“Tis precisely why it bothers me. One of us has to do it, and unless ye have plans of marrying anytime soon, then it has to be me.” He found small consolation in the brief, scandalized look that flashed across his brother’s face.

“Ye’re serious about this. I ken how ye can get when ye set yer mind to a task. So I also ken it’ll be needless of me to try and dissuade ye. But remember this—nae one is forcing ye to bear this obligation. And look around ye, we have plenty with which to defend ourselves, to keep us strong. The castle is safe. We are respected and well protected. Before ye break ye own heart, think about that and ken it is true.”


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical