"If I were 'The Lion'," the leader growled mockingly, "donna think I’d hesitate to cut yer throat for that."

Blaine visibly paled, but her haughty stance stayed the same. Saeran wanted to grab her sister by her throat and shove her face into a puddle of mud. How could her sister be so bold and offensive to men she knew wouldn't think twice about lopping off their heads?

"I—I apologize for my sister's conduct," Saeran said, forcing the words past trembling lips. "The ride has been long and tiresome. She is weary from travel."

The leader continued to stare down at Blaine, until finally, he gave Saeran a gruff look. Her shoulders dropped with the weight of her relief. No blood would be shed tonight. She knew from seeing the look in his eyes. He was offended, but there was also a charm to him that told her he wouldn’t kill without being physically provoked.

"Ewen, take the lass ahead. We should reach the village by the morrow."

Saeran watched a burly, red-haired man, grab her sister's reins. Blaine was unusually quiet when he began leading her away, riding at a steady gallop.

"Is the lass always so discourteous?" the leader grunted, swinging himself onto the saddle.

The men stared down at her expectantly, and Saeran came to a realization that made her palms sweat. They were all on their horses. She was the only one who had yet to mount her beast.

"She is weary from travel," she repeated numbly, coming to yet another horrifying realization.

She would have to ride with these men. All nineteen of these dauntingly large men. Not only that, but she was expected to act as one of them. Saeran stared at the mare. Her mouth dried. She would also have to mount the horse—with experience she didn't have.

Oh, if only her mother could see her now.

She would be appalled.

Lady Sinclair had never understood her daughter's fascination with books and numbers, preferring what Blaine did—court, fashion, and dances. To see her daughter going against the grain even more, by riding a horse, and dressed shamelessly in trews... The shock of it would have made her mother faint dead away.

Her father, however, would have been amused. The memory of her father's smile was the only thing that gave her the courage to go through with the most embarrassing situation she had ever been in.

Mounting the horse.

"Hurry up, lad. We have a ways to go. A storm's comin',” Brodrick said, giving her an odd look.

"Aye," she muttered absently, wringing her hands. Saeran shook herself. She couldn’t be weak in front of them. With that thought in mind, she began her first attempt at mounting a horse. The men had grabbed...the men had grabbed their horses here...and put their foot here... As she tried to mimic the mounting process she’d seen, she somehow managed to do it completely wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.

Her fingers slipped from around the beast’s mane, and she found herself falling to the ground. She landed on her butt with an umph. Several of the men snorted, and her face burned with humiliation.

She'd like to see their first try at this! She bet they had fared worse than her! They had probably been skinny lads with not a single bit of control over their bodies, whereas she was a woman, with grace and composure.

Grace and composure that was starting to crumble around her. She was a lad now. She had to act like one, sound like one, and be one. Swallowing down the tears and cursing her sister for this wretched idea of hers, Saeran pulled herself together, and tried again—only to land right on her butt.

Again.

"Och, yer having a time of it, aren't ye'?" A shadow came over her and she looked up, near tears. So much for her plan to be a lad. The leader finally ended her humiliation. With a quick move, he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and threw her onto the saddle. The mare moved uneasily as she tried to right herself. She rubbed her throat inconspicuously. She was grateful that he’d helped her, yet wincing at the way he’d done it. "Have ye' not ridden a horse before?"

Saeran didn't know a single boy her age who hadn’t, so not a single excuse came to her mind. She gave him a shaky smile.

"I...ah, I have ailments. In my leg. It breaks—often. Makes a hassle out of...of mounting." Worst excuse ever, Saeran. Well done.

The look on his face told her he didn't believe a single word she said.

Saeran had never been a good liar. Fortunately, she pushed it aside, and they began to ride. Ah, gods, this was uncomfortable. Not even two steps in, and her bum was starting to ache. How did these men do it? She cast them all a covert look. And without trews, no less! Their bare legs were rubbing against the girths of the horses. She could only imagine the itching.

"I'm the laird's first man. My name is Brodrick. The king sent for the laird a few days ago, so we came to retrieve ye'." The leader of the group broke her out of her miserable thoughts. “What do we call ye’, lad?

"Saeran," she supplied shortly. The less she spoke, the better. There were nineteen men around her. One of them would catch onto the odd pitch in her voice, or the way she was awkwardly sitting on the saddle, or the way she was trying to rub her arms against the sides of her breasts to keep the binding in place.

Brodrick throwing her had loosened it, and she had a feeling these men weren't going to stop for anything. There was no way she would be able to fix the binding.

"I could have sworn the king said there were two sisters, no’ a brother and a sister," he said. She called it what it was—an attempt to wheedle things out of her.

"Aye," she said, at a loss for words. She didn’t want to say too much for fear of being caught.

"Ye' donna talk much, do ye'?" Brodrick grumbled. She shook her head, mentally sighing when the cap began to slip. Both her binding and the cap were working against her. Was this Fate's way of telling her that this was a rotten idea?

If it was, she was terribly late. These men all thought she was a lad, and it would have to stay that way until Blaine secured her place as Lady Shaw. Hopefully then, their cousin King James would be content to let her stay there. She could avoid being sent away for marriage completely.

Brodrick whistled sharply, and the horse surged forward. Grasping wildly for the reins of the horse, she tried to pull the beast to a stop, but it would not be deterred. The others began galloping as well.

"What's happening?" she shouted, over the thundering hooves.

Brodrick chuckled, but the sound of it was lost in the fray. All she had was the twinkling in his eyes to go by. "Returning to Laird Shaw’s keep, lad. Stay with us now—your sister is a ways ahead o' us."

If she thought her bum was numb before, there was nothing to describe the way it felt as she was forced to bump and flail on the beast. She knew several of the men were laughing at her, but she didn’t have time to focus on them. Not only was she struggling to keep her cap atop her head, but her breasts were rebelling against the binding. It was slipping at a dangerously fast rate.

Thankfully, they caught up to her sister quickly. She was chattering away to the man as if he weren't a murderous Highlander. Her sister looked at them fleetingly as they arrived. Saeran bit her lip at the tinge of disappointment in her sister's eyes. It was almost as if Blaine didn’t want to see her.

"Oh, Saeran!" she said, the look vanishing as if it had never been there. "'Tis so good to see you. Ewen and I were just discussing their crops and dining schedules. Did you know they do not have a cook?" she exclaimed. "’Tis quite ghastly!"

Ignoring all sense of decorum, Blaine reached out and patted the warrior on the arm. His face was less than pleased. "Do not worry, you poor soldiers. The Lion might not have taken care of his daring warriors, but I shall. Yes, you'll have a cook to feed you warm meals and maids to clean for you."

Several of the men grunted. She couldn't tell if they were happy with her ideas or not.

"Lass," Brodrick interrupted, glaring. "Ye' canna just barge in and undo everything the laird has set. We are fine with our work—now leave it at that."

Blaine gave Saeran a blinding smile.

She sighed.

Her sister was going to be killed the second The Lion returned home.

* * *

Saeran didn't know what she was getting herself into when she agreed to all of this. Not just pretending to be a lad, but by agreeing to the king’s wishes that his two cousins earn the favor of his favorite chieftain.

The choice had been entirely up to the sisters, despite the rumors at court that he wanted to rid his court of Blaine. The king loved his cousins immensely, and would do anything to make up for the loss of their parents.

Though the fire had occurred years ago, he had kept them at court, giving them a life of leisure while he sent a governess to manage the Sinclair estate. Saeran had been so destroyed over their parents’ deaths that she couldn't make herself return home, and Blaine...well, Blaine had mourned them in her own way, Saeran was sure.

A sennight ago, the king had drawn them aside, to his study, and solemnly sat them down.

"Your mother was a bright, beautiful woman," he had started. The grief in his eyes had touched Saeran. The king might be ruthless, but he was family. "She always wanted the best for her girls—and so do I."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Saeran had murmured, looking down at her hands. The deaths had hit her the hardest. It had destroyed her whole family.

"It is because of your mother and the close relations I had with her that I would like to make an offer to you two, my favorite cousins.”

Tears had stung her eyes, but she'd wiped them away before they could fall. Blaine had sat tensely by her side, unusually quiet. Saeran had looked at them right as Blaine and King James shared a look. She had no idea what to make of it, so she wrote it off as nothing.

"Your Majesty, I do not think I could bare to return—"

"I am aware of this, Saeran. The lands will remain in the Sinclair name, and my people will take care of them. Peace will be kept, and anyone who tries to challenge your family’s claims will be punished."

He had come around the large oak table slowly. The candles made the room dim and soothing, as if he knew this would be hard for them and wished to make it easier.

"I would love to keep the both of you in my court, but alas, you’re growing up to be mature women, and your mother would hate me if I did not let you live to your full potential. Because of that," he had said, pausing in front of them, "you will travel to the Highlands and stay with my most trusted warrior."

Saeran had gasped. Blaine had straightened in her seat.

"You are both lovely women," he had continued. "Because of that, I will not let age determine who will wed Kane Shaw. He is a tough man to like, I will not lie. But should one of you favor him, I will bless the marriage. The sister who does not marry will be betrothed to Lord Grayham."

Saeran's blood had run cold at the name. Lord Grayham was a reputable ogre. His first wife had taken her life, and the second had jumped off a cliff. The rumors surrounding his third wife's death were chilling.

"Your Majesty—"

He'd held up a hand. "I know your concerns, and they are but rumors. I would not subject my dearest cousins to such a fate."

"Who is this Kane Shaw?" Blaine finally spoke. It was a question that Saeran hadn't even thought to ask.

King James had smiled. "You've heard of The Lion, correct?"

"That...barbarian?" Saeran burst out, before she could stop herself. Who didn't know of The Lion? He tore his enemies to shreds. He entered every battle he could. He had murdered his own family in cold blood. There was not a single person who did not know of The Lion and his brutality.

The Lion was a fate worse than Lord Grayham.

"He has many spoils from his wars," Blaine insisted, as if she wanted to believe the words she spoke. "He is powerful."

King James nodded.

"He is all of that, and more. I would only send my cousins to a man I knew could provide for them. Grayham and Shaw are two of those men. Of course,” he sighed, waving a lazy hand in front of them, “I will give you some time to digest this news. You have this next month to prepare—”

"I wish to go," Blaine burst out. "Right away."

"Blaine! That is quite impulsive of you," Saeran exclaimed admonishingly. She turned to their mighty cousin. "We need time to think on this. My sister is overwhelmed by your offer."

"Why, of course she is," he said proudly, chest puffing up. "It is a most gracious offer. I will allow you two some time to decide. But that is for later. Tonight, there is a ball." He brought them to their feet.

On their way out, Blaine had given her a glare so fierce, Saeran had actually taken a step away from her sister. "We are going to The Lion's territory, and that is that."

Then she had stormed off, leaving Saeran to stare after her in stony silence.

The whole ordeal had struck her as odd. It had almost been as if Blaine and the King had discussed this beforehand. Her sister hadn’t been surprised in the least, and the look the two of them had shared… The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

“I’m just being foolish,” she whispered to herself, as their party continued their travel. Blaine would never do anything that wouldn’t benefit the both of them. Later, when her sister had come to her with her proposal of turning Saeran into a boy, she’d been reluctant to agree.

Her sister had been quick to point out that Grayham was a known murderer. Saeran couldn’t possibly marry him, nor could she marry The Lion.

“Grayham will not have a reason to keep you around,” Blaine had told her sadly. “I overheard mother speaking with father once, that you were presumed barren, and—”

“How could they have known that?!” she had gasped. Her hand had flown to her mouth. “I don’t believe you—they couldn’t have known that, Blaine—”

Her sister had sat down beside her, tears welling in her soft brown eyes. Saeran had fallen against her sister’s body, seeking comfort. “When you were a babe, you had the fever,” Blaine said quietly, regretfully. “You almost lost your sight, but it came back. A priest prayed for you. Several days later, he came back with a message from God.”

“Nay,” Saeran had moaned, covering her face. She hadn’t considered children an option until she was married, naturally, but the thought of never holding her own babe in her arms, of hearing her own child’s laughter, tore at her heart.

“Yes,” her sister had whispered, rubbing her back. “I’m so sorry, Saeran. I thought you had known—”

“I didn’t,” she’d cried. “Why wouldn’t they have told me this? Is that why they never pushed suitors at me? Because they knew?”

“Yes,” Blaine had murmured. “They were too ashamed of you to—”

“They were ashamed of me?” she had exclaimed, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “No, Blaine—Don’t tell me that—”

“I only want to protect you. I love you, Saeran. This is why you cannot marry Grayham—He will kill you the second he finds out you’re barren, and King James will not be swayed in his decision.”

Saeran had grabbed her sister by the hands. Even though the pain had settled in her heart like a rock, she felt a glimmer of hope. “If we tell our cousin about my...my ailment, surely he will reconsider Grayham. Surely he will understand.”

Blaine had smiled sadly. “James is but a man—he does not understand the shame a woman feels for being barren, my sister. He would not change his mind, not for you.”

“Blaine,” she had moaned, hope sliding out of her hands. “I don’t want to be married to Grayham—I don’t know what to do. If you’re correct, and he kills me for being—being barren…” she’d whispered, horrified. “I... Blaine, whatever will I do?”

She’d broken down into sobs. Terrified, lonely sobs.

“You will listen to me, my love,” Blaine had whispered, lifting Saeran’s face up with a finger. “You’ll listen to me and you will live—with The Lion and I.”

As she stared into her sister’s eyes, a thought occurred to her. “Blaine,” she’d said slowly. “I’ve heard rumors at court that Grayham fancies you. Why could I not marry The Lion, while you took Grayham?” The idea took hold. “Then I would not have to hide who I am!” She smiled widely, clasping her sister’s hands. “It’s a wonderful idea! It’s perfect—Oh, Blaine, it’s absolutely perfect.”

Blaine had shaken her head. “The Lion is just as dangerous as Grayham, if not more. It does not matter which man you are married to, you will still be barren.”

“Blaine…”

“No, sister.” She’d held Saeran’s distraught face between her hands. “All will be well. I have the perfect plan.”

Saeran had sucked in a trembling breath, and nodded numbly. So, so numb. “Aye... The perfect plan…”

She hadn’t seen the look of malicious intent in her sister’s eyes when she collapsed into Blaine’s arms. If she had, mayhap she would have been prepared…