Quicker than she would have thought possible, she retrieved more water for her sister and told herself that she would return to clean up the mess as soon as she was done. When she handed her sister the cup, though, Blaine didn’t let her slip away so easily.

“What has you in such a good mood?” she asked, taking Saeran by the arm and dragging her into the room. The door closed behind her, cutting her off from the outside world, and her newfound happiness. All of the joy she’d just felt came to a painful end.

Her sister didn’t sound like she was in a good mood—not that she ever was, anyway.

“Nothing,” she said, grateful that the lie sounded natural. “I’m just glad to finally have a chance to rest.” If the words weren’t a good hint, taking the handle in her hand was. Blaine stared at her with narrowed eyes.

Just as quickly as the suspicious look had appeared, a woeful sigh and a sad look replaced it. “Does my own sister dislike me so much that she cannot spare a moment to talk?”

Saeran forced herself not to roll her eyes. “What has you troubled this time, Sister?”

Blaine jumped into the conversation immediately, as she always did. It had become a ritual for this to happen, and each night, it made her tolerance of Blaine less and less.

Saeran wasn’t a violent person by nature.

Right now, however, she wanted to shove a stocking into her sister’s mouth and run from the room. It was the same thing, every night.

“If Father were alive, he would have challenged The Lion for his negligence! Do you know,” Blaine said, sitting on the edge of her bed, “that he hasn’t dined with me at all since we’ve come here? He hasn’t even inquired after my health! I fear that he is going to be the most unreasonable husband.” She reached forward, taking Saeran’s hands. Her large fingers squeezed impossibly tight. “I’m terrified of him. He has such cold eyes. They’re as dead as a corpse! You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”

Aye, Saeran had seen them.

A couple times, in fact. And each time, they hadn’t been cold or dead... They’d been vibrant and gorgeous, hot with life. The image of him flashed in her mind and she swallowed, pulling away from her sister’s hand.

She nodded, even though she couldn’t agree with complete conviction. He appeared to be and act like a barbarian, but... His eyes spoke otherwise. She looked at her lap, feeling guilty.

“He can’t be all that bad,” she tried. Every night, Blaine spoke of how murderous and beastly the laird was.

“Yes, well—I wouldn’t know otherwise! The man cannot spare the time of day for his future wife.”

“He hasn’t yet asked for your hand,” she pointed out, recalling Connor’s words from just moments ago.

“What are you trying to say, Sister?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you harbor thoughts about a man who is to be mine?”

Saeran shook her head, reaching out to appease her sister—even though the lie sat like lead in her stomach. Aye, she’d been thinking about the laird. With horrified fascination, each time he came around. He was aptly named—he moved with the grace of a lion. It was hard not to watch him and speculate.

“Never, Blaine. I just think you should make more of an effort to know him, besides…” She trailed off, realizing what she had almost said.

“Besides what, Saeran?” her sister murmured, dangerously quiet.

“Besides letting him hide from you,” she filled in. When Blaine only stared at her, she worried her lip. Her sister stood up in a rage. The movement was so quick that Saeran didn’t have time to react, to appease her before she went on a rampage.

“I think you meant to say something else,” Blaine snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I do not appreciate being lied to, especially by my own blood! What kind of a sister are you, Saeran? If you have something to say, then say it!”

Saeran clenched her hands in her lap. She wouldn’t fuel her sister’s anger. Blaine was only confused and angry, and Saeran had spoken out of turn.

She wearily stood, giving her sister a demure smile. “I will retire for the night.”

Blaine watched her with an open mouth. Saeran had her hand on the door, ready to escape.

“Oh, no you won’t.” Saeran felt the sharp sting of her sister’s hand slapping against her arm, then nails dug into her skin. She gasped, yanking herself out of her sister’s grip. “You’re only alive because I saved you. You owe it to me to listen to my concerns, Saeran! Or should I go to the laird and tell him who you really are?” Blaine threatened maliciously.

“What is wrong with you?” she burst out, clutching her arm to her chest. It was as if Blaine had known she had a bruise there! Blaine opened her mouth to speak, a sneer on her face, but Saeran was done! The pain in her arm only furthered her anger. “Nay, do not answer that. I don’t care what is wrong with you. You’ve been acting like a harpy lately, and I’ve had enough of it!”

Blaine snapped her mouth closed.

“Instead of making a victim out of yourself where the laird is concerned, maybe you should go to him. You act like everyone has to cater to your every need. Do I have to remind you that he is the laird of these lands? Do I have to remind you that he answers to no one, including you? Goodness, Blaine!” she shouted, throwing her hands up. It felt so amazing to get this off her chest. The whole entire month, she’d been dying to say something, dying to let her sister know how she felt. For the first time in her whole life, Saeran was finally doing it.

“The only thing you do is order people around and complain about them behind their backs! I’m tired of it. Until you can act like the kind woman I know you can be, I want nothing to do with you. I’m sorry, and I love you, but I’ve simply had enough.” She whirled around, throwing open the door.

Blaine hissed after her, “I’m of the mind to go to the laird right now and tell him about—”

“Do it,” Saeran snapped. “I dare you to. He’ll be angry at you for cooking up the lie, and then you’ll have to go against me in earning his affections. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve spent more time with him than you have, and Brodrick already likes me.” Every single word out of her mouth was a bluff. She knew that if the laird found out she was lying to him, he’d be furious, and definitely not consider her for a wife. Connor’s words came back to her. The ones where he’d said the laird would understand. On the off chance that he was correct, she let her words fly free.

Saeran was sick and tired of being her sister’s lap dog.

Going by the look on Blaine’s face, she believed what Connor did—that the laird wouldn’t mind if Saeran was a woman. She gave her sister a tight-lipped smile and stepped out of the room.

“Unless you want competition with a woman who actually knows how to run the lands she lives on, I suggest you leave me alone, and keep your words to yourself.” Saeran slammed the door in her sister’s face, then raced to her room.

The breath she’d been holding was only released once she leaned against the cool stone wall. At first, she was numb to what had happened. She began to undress, undoing the belt and then sliding up her shirt. Once she had the trews off, she sought out the nightgown she kept hidden under the bed.

That’s when the shock began to settle in.

The nightgown slid over her body. Her hair fell around her shoulders as the pins came out. Panic made her heart pound like that of a racehorse. How had the fight escalated so quickly? Saeran had always been good at keeping herself calm and collected. She had always been able to listen to her sister without complaining.

What had made tonight different?

The relief over realizing that Connor wasn’t an enemy, but an ally? Her sister’s constant demand for everything and anything? How selfish her sister was beginning to appear?

Aye, she’d saved Saeran’s life by doing this, and she’d said she’d done it out of love. But if Blaine had done it out of love, she wouldn’t throw it in Saeran’s face every day. Blaine wouldn’t point it out to her whenever she wanted something or didn’t like something that Saeran did. If she really had done it out of love, the “sacrifice” wouldn’t need to be brought up every minute!

Saeran didn’t want to seem ungrateful for what her sister was doing for her, but what was there to be grateful for?

Her life was no better than it had been.

She was bruised and beaten on every day. She had to hide who she really was. She couldn’t enjoy the comfort of books and numbers because she was so busy cleaning up horse shite. She rarely finished with her duties in time for dinner!

While Saeran was living the life of a boy, Blaine was living the life of luxury. Not just the life of a woman, but the life of real luxury, and all because the laird was too busy to tell her otherwise.

Saeran plopped herself onto the bed, glaring at the door she’d previously leaned against. She wasn’t ungrateful in the least—she was just tired of putting up with the injustice of her treatment.

She sighed.

Blaine was going to approach her in the morning, with big fat tears on her plump face, and Saeran was going to melt. All of the anger she was feeling right now? Useless. Blaine would somehow manage to wheedle her way back into Saeran’s good graces, and then... Well, then she would have to go back to listening to her sister complain about things.

Things like how the laird is never there, or how the laird always glares, growls, and yells, or how the laird doesn’t offer her a plate of food like a real man should, or…

Food.

All thoughts of Blaine fled.

She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Her stomach growled so painfully that she moaned and got to her feet. As she crossed to the door, intent on finding that apple she’d thought about earlier, she vaguely realized that her hair was down.

Even as she passed the tossed clothing she’d been wearing earlier, the need for food was more pressing than dressing. If someone found her and it came down to it, she could say she was a maid. The keep had plenty of them, courtesy of Blaine and her neediness. Her modesty had gone out the window the second she started wearing trews and bathing in the river, and the chances of anyone seeing her this late, coupled with the darkness, was zero.

Still, she paused, looking at the trews. Then her stomach cramped. She shook it off, throwing open the door. Not only did she need to find some food, but she needed to clean up the mess she’d made with Blaine’s water.

It was late and dark. She’d be as quiet, quick, and stealthy as a mouse.

Aye, no one would see her.