Cora stared around the tiny cell she was restricted to, still not quite believing what was happening to her. Audrina had followed them all the way down to the dungeons that she hadn’t even realized the castle was endowed with, arguing vehemently for any other arrangement — Cora to be restrained to her chambers, to a room somewhere else — anything but the cold, drafty spaces beneath the castle. But all to no avail — the Inquisitors didn’t want her to be comfortable, she knew with grim certainty, they wanted her to be frightened, and stressed. The more stressed she was, the more likely she’d break under their questioning.

Well, to hell with all of them. She wasn’t going to break just because they wanted her to. The cell wasn’t even that bad, all things considered — it certainly wasn’t as cold as the one from her nightmares, and the absence of torturing figures in dark clothing was certainly a plus. It wasn’t spacious, but that made it warmer. There was a long stone bench along the south wall (she’d made sure to keep her bearings as they descended — she refused to lose track of where she was) that she supposed was meant to be used as a bed. Over by the far wall, there was a pail — she didn’t really want to think about what that was intended for. Mercifully, it was at least empty. The dungeons hadn’t been used for quite some time, Audrina had told her through the bars once their captors were satisfied she was restrained. The MacClarans had had no need to take prisoners for quite some time.

Well, here she was, a prisoner. The Inquisitors left a man downstairs to guard her — he wasn’t dressed like them, but he seemed to be in their employ as a guard. Ian had said that the Inquisitors had a staff that traveled with them, not necessarily the devoutly religious, but people with no roots or reasons to remain in one place. The man was small and unassuming, but he kept a sharp eye on her visitors and his hand on his belt, where the key to her cell was kept. Cora had briefly entertained the idea of breaking out of the cell and running off into the night, but where would she go? No, she’d been given the opportunity to run away, weeks ago — and her decision on that matter had almost destroyed a relationship she cared very much about. She was staying put. Now, as always, she knew it was the right thing to do. All she could do was pray that the Inquisition went favorably for her, and that she would eventually be released.

Maybe then she could mend her relationship with Ian. Bigger miracles had happened, right? And it was a comforting thought at a time when the rest of her life wasn’t especially comfortable. She allowed herself to disappear into fantasies — the Inquisitors releasing her and clearing her of all charges, Ian sweeping her into his arms and forgiving her for not running away with him in the first place…a wedding, with all their friends and families there, Audrina and her infant daughter in matching bridesmaids dresses…

Audrina kept coming and going, bringing down blankets and pillows to ensure she’d be comfortable double — and triple-checking that she had been given enough to eat and drink. At this rate, Cora joked with her, she’d be the only woman in history to gain weight during an imprisonment.

“Go up to bed,” she instructed finally, catching Audrina swaying a little with weariness. “It must be well past dinner time. You need your rest if we’re going to have another experience like today in the morning.” The Inquisitors had left once they were satisfied that Cora was safely locked up, and said that they would confer overnight and return in the morning for another ‘discussion’.

“You’re mad if you think I’m leaving you down here all night alone,” Audrina challenged her, her eyes blazing.

“You’re mad if you think I’m letting you!”

“What are you going to do about it, exactly? You’re locked up, remember?” Audrina tapped meaningfully on the bars.

Cora ground her teeth. “Audrina, please. I’m okay. Please go up and get some sleep. Do I have to remind you you’re still on the mend from a pretty traumatic birth? I’m not going to get any rest at all if I’m worried about you.”

“And I’m not going to be able to sleep if I’m thinking about you chained up down here all by yourself.”

There was a cough from the shadows, and both women whipped around as Ian MacClaran stepped forward, looking a little bit sheepish.

“I have a solution.”

Audrina gave Cora a meaningful look — they’d had long discussions of the feud between Ian and Cora — then smiled sweetly at Ian. “You’re a good man, Ian MacClaran. I’ll see you in the morning, Cora, my love.” She kissed her cheek through the bars then made her escape, leaving Cora and Ian standing in awkward silence with the impassive jailer standing by.

“You really intend to stay here all night?” she asked finally, not looking at him.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yes. I’m not leaving you alone down here. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly.”

“Oh. So you’re just being polite.”

“Cora, you stubborn woman —” He shot a glance at the guard, then back at her. The look meant that they couldn’t speak openly — they had to be careful not to mention anything that would contradict her story about being from Skye. She gave an imperceptible little nod. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry I suggested what I did. You were quite right to chastise me. It was cowardly.”

She nodded, a little pleased to hear it — then Audrina’s words echoed in her memory, reminding her that Ian wasn’t the only one to blame in the situation. “I’m sorry, too,” she admitted, grudgingly, but knowing as she spoke that it was the right thing to do. “I was very harsh with you. You were only trying to keep me safe — trying to protect me, like you promised. And it was a reasonably good idea.”

“Just not one you would’ve gone along with in a million years.”

“Exactly.” She laughed a little, finally looking into his hazel eyes and feeling a great welling up of admiration for him, gladness that they’d cleared the air between them — and a new twisting anxiety in her stomach at how truly awful it would be to lose him. “Ian — what if they — what if they put me to death?”

His jaw tightened. “They won’t. They won’t, love. They’ll know you’re innocent. They’ll have to, if they’re truly men of God.”

That didn’t help Bellina, she thought — but of course she couldn’t say it, not if she didn’t want the guard to pass it on to the Inquisitors and have her burned before the sun was up. But Ian knew what she was thinking — he reached through the bars and took her hands, positioning his body as close to hers as he could despite the obstruction. He was close enough to have taken her into his arms, if the bars hadn’t been there keeping them apart — she smiled a little, but there were tears in her eyes, and he gently brushed one from her cheek and caressed the side of her face.

“Cora Wilcox,” he said, very deliberately. “You are the bravest, kindest, most stubborn, most forthright, most clever, skilled, hard-working, and beautiful woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Nobody on God’s green Earth could stop you from doing anything you set your mind to, and whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know that I love you.”

The litany of compliments had brought a stronger and stronger blush to her pale cheeks, and at the final declaration she ducked her head, overcome, dizzy, smiling widely enough to hurt her cheeks despite the miserable surroundings and the awful situation she found herself in.

“Ian MacClaran,” she murmured in an echo of his rather formal statement. “You have picked a truly unromantic time and place for this kind of declaration.” He laughed ruefully. “But here, before the eyes of God, the rats, and this armed guard, I will say that I love you too, and I very much hope that I am not burned at the stake tomorrow —” he laughed again, a delighted grin spreading across his handsome face — “because I would much rather spend it planning our wedding.”

His eyes widened. “Truly?”

“Truly.” She hesitated. “Don’t tell anyone just yet. I don’t want to jinx it.”

“It’ll be our secret,” Ian murmured, pressing his body against hers through the bars — she sighed, trying to draw in as much of the warmth of him as she could. “Until you’re cleared of all charges, and we’re able to start planning our lives together. And until then — I’m staying.” He reached into his pocket and revealed a deck of cards and a set of dice. “I’m here for the long haul. We can play games until you’re tired, and then you can sleep in that ridiculous mountain of blankets that Maeve’s brought you, the madwoman, and I’ll still be here when you wake up. Promise.”

Cora beamed, her eyes filling with happy tears this time. “That sounds wonderful.”

“There’s no way I’d rather spend an evening.” He hesitated. “Well, there’s a few changes I’d make...”

She laughed. “No, really? What’s wrong with this?”

They passed the evening in happy conversation, him sitting cross-legged outside the bars, her perched on the edge of the stone bench that would be made her bed. It was a testament to the kind of man he was that he could make her feel so much better, even in the midst of such misery. And when she was tired enough to sleep, true to his word, he waited by her bedside until she drifted off.

All things considered, she’d had worse nights of sleep.