“If I lose the fight tonight because the food went cold, then I’ll know who to blame,” he said.
Adaira pressed her lips together, but his statement gave her chills. She sat in the chair across from his and studied the pheasant and sliced pears on her plate. She wasn’t the least bit hungry.
The chains around Moray’s wrists clinked as he began to eat.
“Tell me where you went,” he said between mouthfuls.
She saw no point in lying. She met his stare and said, “I went to Loch Ivorra.”
He wasn’t expecting that. Moray’s brows rose, but he swiftly concealed his shock. “I take it you only enjoyed it from a distance, as it’s forbidden. Locked by enchantment.”
“I know how to unlock the door.”
“Ah. And who taught you that? David or Innes?”
“David,” she said.
“Which means it was Innes, as he doesn’t do anything without her permission.”
Adaira was quiet.
“What do you think of her?” Moray queried.
“Of who?”
“Innes.”
“You don’t call her Mother or Mum?”
“No,” Moray replied. “She never wanted to be called by such titles.”
Adaira didn’t believe him. And she didn’t like the direction their conversation was heading. Talking about Innes made her hands feel clammy, and the nape of her neck tingled in warning. But she smiled as though she found Moray’s remarks amusing.
“Do you think she’s a good laird?” he pressed.
Adaira shrugged. “Yes, considering what I’ve seen so far.”
Moray stared at her with thoughtful eyes. “Do you think you could rule better than her?”
“Better than her?” Adaira echoed. “I honestly haven’t thought much about it, Moray.”
“Would you want to, though, Cora?”
“Would I want to rule the west? No.”
“Not the west, the east.”
That brought her up short. She stared at him, coldly. “I once did, but no longer. You took that from me.”
“And what if I helped you regain it?” he said.
“At what cost?”
He smiled, as if pleased she had known there would be a catch. “You help me overthrow Innes, and I’ll help you take the east again. We can rule the isle, side by side.”
It took everything within Adaira not to get up and walk out. Instead, she kept her expression smooth and calm, her eyes heavy as if bored.
“Oh? And how would we go about overthrowing Innes?” she said.
“Well, Aethyn poisoning is out of the question. She’s been dosing herself for such a long time it’s probably the reason why she’s so cold.” Moray started to eat, taking his time to explain what he had in mind, which, Adaira sensed, he had all planned out. “I think there’s only one way to take her down.”
“Which is . . . ?”
Moray glanced up with a half-smile. “A dirk, deep in the side. A cut through her vitals. A slow, painful way to go out.”
Adaira briefly imagined it. Steel cutting through Innes at her waist, just beneath her plaid. The sound she would make as she dropped to her knees. Her blood staining the floor. The image crackled through Adaira like dark ice. She was surprised by how quickly her anger was roused, humming like a kicked hive, but she couldn’t let her brother know.
“That seems risky, Moray,” she said carefully. “Given how Innes was able to take you to the ground without any sort of weapon.”
Moray scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I let her handle me. But you bring up a valid point, sister. Innes doesn’t trust me. She hasn’t for years now, and I know that she has no intention of letting me regain my honor and walk free tonight. I know she hopes I’m slain, but if not? She’s going to keep me shackled and fighting like Oathbreaker, until someone eventually bests me. And I’m not going to sit quietly and rot. I’m not going to let someone take my birthright from me.”
Adaira shivered. His voice had dropped low, become raspy. But his eyes were feverish, as if he had caught fire.
“That is why I need you, Cora,” he whispered. “I need you to be the one to stab Innes in the side. She will never expect it from you, which is quite ironic, given you were raised to hate us. But I see the way she looks at you. You are her weakness. The gap in her armor. She sees a shade of herself in you, as well as a gleam of Skye. Don’t let such love fool you. It’ll become a cage, a way to control you. To coerce you to do only the things she wants.”
Adaira was quiet, but she held her brother’s gaze. She didn’t know what to say; his words had overwhelmed her.
“But if we do this . . . it needs to be tonight, Cora,” Moray continued, drawing hope from her silence. “If you are with me, then I need you to give me a sign that you have the courage to betray Innes. When I’m brought out onto the sand, I need you to take a flower from your hair and throw it down to me. To everyone watching, it will seem like a mere gesture of luck. But I will know it means you are ready to rise. When I kill Oathbreaker, I want you to plunge your dirk into Innes’s side. Then shove her over the balcony.”
“You want me to kill the laird in a very public spectacle,” Adaira said.
“The clan will only respect you for it. It will also cause chaos,” Moray explained. “Which will enable me to get away.”
“And her guards will kill me instantly.”
“No, they won’t. At the very worst, you’ll be wounded. You’ll most likely be shackled and imprisoned. By then, my men will have rallied and we can liberate you.”
Adaira closed her eyes and sighed into her palms. This conversation was the last thing she had ever expected.
“Cora?” Moray called her back to the present.
Slowly, her hands fell away. She opened her eyes to stare at him.
“Are you with me?” he asked.
She already knew her answer. There had never been a moment of doubt, no moment when she needed to consider which path to take. But she didn’t want Moray to know it. At least, not yet.
“Give me this evening to think about it,” she said. “You’ll have my answer tonight, when I see you in the arena.”
In the cold, northern wing of the castle, Jack waited for his father in a small, windowless chamber. The simple room had a glazed hearth, a threadbare tapestry on one wall, and a table with two straw-backed chairs. Dinner had already been delivered on wooden plates. Roasted pheasant, herbed potatoes, spiced pears, carrots in browned butter, and a bannock still warm from the oven. Jack watched the steam rise, trying to temper his expectations.
Niall would be arriving any moment. And Jack still wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to his father. All he knew was that Innes had given them an hour together, and that the culling would commence close to midnight.
The fire in the hearth made the room stiflingly warm, and over its crackling dance, Jack could hear distant footsteps drawing closer. A heavy tread in the corridor, the clang of shackles.
Niall was almost here.