“Naturally.”
They rode in silence once more, each man weighing the other’s presence.
“Ye ken, Lilith wouldnae wish for Tristan to be in pain.”
Damon let out a humorless laugh. “Aye, I ken what she wants.”
Ryder gave him a look. “She’s got a heart too big for her own good.”
Damon gritted his teeth. “Aye, I ken that too.”
Ryder slowed his horse to match Damon’s pace as they neared the first outpost. “Ye ever heard about the time she let Magnus’s prisoners go?”
Damon whipped around. “What!”
Ryder’s expression darkened slightly. “A lifetime ago, there were a few young servants who had been caught smuggling goods out of the keep. Magnus wanted their hands lobbed off, to set an example. But Lilith publicly argued with him, at great risk to her safety.”
“Of course, she did.” Damon frowned.
Ryder laughed. “Aye. Of course, she did.”
Damon glanced at him. “And?”
“Instead of waitin’ for his decision, she just let them go—snuck them out and paid for their travel too.”
Damon’s grip on the reins loosened slightly. He inhaled slowly as Ryder continued.
“And at the end of the day—at the end of every single day—she was still Magnus’s favorite sister. He said as much all the time. Everyone kenned it.”
“His favorite sister?”
“Aye.” Ryder smiled as the horses fell into an easy canter while Damon contemplated the tale.
“Is that true?”
“Every word—those boys are patrollin’ the border. Ye met them.”
Damon’s mind flashed back to their last patrol. “Hamish and Callum?”
Ryder relaxed back into the saddle and chuckled easily. “Aye, the very same.”
“How did they get back on the guard?”
“Magnus could never remember their names—they only recently came back anyway. It was Finley who reinstated them and kept them on the border to be safe.”
For Christ’s sake.
Without another word, Damon turned his horse back toward the keep. Ryder followed without hesitation.
As the two men reached the keep, they found Tristan waiting outside, pacing furiously in the courtyard.
Damon jumped down from his horse, his eyes hard. “Get inside.”
Tristan looked startled, but he wasted no time following him into the keep and up to his study.
Damon poured himself a drink, then leaned against his desk. Tristan stood meekly in front of him, a broken man.
“I dinnae ken much,” Damon admitted, swirling the dark contents of his glass. “Lilith received a letter from Ariah. I dinnae ken what it says, but I ken well enough how hard she fought for me to spare her.”