My heart stuttered, my eyes darting to Fiona and then back to Fergus. “Why?”
Fiona lifted her pursed lips and exchanged a meaningful glance with Fergus, then said, “The Laird MacCrae doesn’t have long for this world.”
I’d figured as much, but that didn’t explain why the king wanted to see me. Unless it was to punish me for what I’d allowed into his kingdom. I fastened my concentration on Fergus, hoping he was gifted in cryptic conversation. “Does the laird—uh—know about the meadow?”
Fergus cleared his throat, a sheepish look on his mottled face. “Ye kin speak plainly in front of Fiona. She knows about the guard’s deaths, as does Duncan. But we’re keeping it from Jamie and the Laird MacCrae, fer now.”
“What about Gideon?” Kenna asked. “I figured he’d be screaming my guilt from the rooftops by now.”
“Hard to do when he’s locked in the dungeon.” The corner of Fergus’s mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. “Everyone thinks he and his men are on a border mission for Centennial preparations.”
Fiona’s pretty mouth in turn twisted into an expression that was equal parts smile and frown. “Veronica, you should go. I’ll stay with Mackenna until ye return.”
Fergus placed a meaty hand on my bicep, his voice both reassuring and urgent as he guided me toward the door. “That’s true. We need ta hurry, m’ lady.”
As I moved with the giant, I glanced over my shoulder and met Kenna’s guilt-ridden face. Without exchanging a word, I could tell she was relieved she wasn’t going with me and at the same time ashamed she felt that way. “Don’t worry,” I said, fostering confidence I didn’t feel. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”
Right.
Knees shaking like an arthritic granny as I descended the stairs, I tried to reassure myself with worst-case scenarios. When visions of public execution and slow torture brought on by Jamie’s orders didn’t do the trick, I focused on the only positive I could find—I could protect Kenna. I would shoulder any blame if it meant getting my best friend across the bridge at the Centennial. That way, at least one of us would live to see our dreams come true.
CHAPTER 21
Veronica
The dim corridor grew longer with every step Fergus and I took. Torch-like sconces diffused our path in flickering light as we hurried past the rich tapestries, distinguished portraits, and burnished suits of armor that lined the austere passageway. Like living creatures, deep shadows set up residence along every angle.
I rubbed the goose bumps along my arms. This part of the castle felt ancient, almost like an entirely different structure than the bright and airy palace I’d come to love.
We approached a set of arched wooden doors, iron hinges, and ringed door pulls lending authenticity to the gothic atmosphere. Fergus lifted a lion-head knocker and tapped lightly while I lingered a few feet behind. Waiting, I glanced up at my protector. I must’ve looked as scared as I felt because he broke his stoic fa?ade to give me a tiny smile of reassurance. His usually flushed skin appeared colorless, his bright eyes dim and shadowed.
The depth of his sorrow pulled me out of my selfish preoccupation. The people of Doon were suffering along with their beloved laird. I caught Fergus’s meaty hand in mine and gave it a brief squeeze. Knowing if one of the other guards saw our exchange, my new friend would suffer for it, I let go quickly. Fergus acknowledged the gesture with a slight nod of his head.
The door opened a crack and Fergus spoke in hushed tones to someone inside. The only word I could make out was my own name. As the door closed again, I clenched my teeth. The waiting was the worst. I just couldn’t fathom why the king would want to speak to me, of all people. I wasn’t even a Doonian. Yet, my heart whispered before I could stop it.