Maybe nae related to the assassin, but a strong Magnus supporter.
Lilith laughed softly. “Dinnae fash, Hunter. Our Laird kens better than to expect that.”
Damon shot her a look, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying herself. He turned back to Hunter. “I dinnae need yer loyalty handed to me. I’ll earn it.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of respect in them. “Aye.”
As they moved on, Damon felt the weight of Lilith’s gaze on him.
“What?” he asked, glancing at her.
“Nothin’,” she said innocently. “It’s just refreshing nae to see ye barkin’ orders for once.”
“Careful,” he warned, though there was no heat in his tone. “Ye’re dangerously close to testin’ me patience.”
“Ach, I wouldnae dream of it,” she drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
The next stop was the stables, where the farrier, Alain, was tending to a horse with a gash along its flank.
Alain was an older man, his hair streaked with gray and his hands rough from years of work. His wife and two young daughters worked quietly nearby, their faces etched with worry.
“Me Laird. Me Lady,” he greeted, his voice tired but polite. “What brings ye to the stables?”
“Alain. Mrs. Bird. We’re checkin’ on everyone,” Lilith said, her gaze softening as she looked at the injured horse. “What happened here?”
“Brigands spooked the livestock,” Alain explained. “This one got caught in a broken fence. She’ll heal, but it’ll take time.”
Damon stepped forward, his expression serious. “I’ll send more men to patrol the area. And I’ll make sure ye have what ye need to repair the fences.”
Alain nodded slowly. “That’d be much appreciated, Me Laird.”
Lilith crouched beside the horse, her movements careful as she inspected its wound. “I’ll bring some salve for her tomorrow from our stables,” she said. “It’ll help with the healing.”
Damon watched her, surprised by her ease with the animal. “Ye ken yer way around a stable,” he remarked.
She glanced up at him, her eyes glinting with amusement. “What? Did ye think I spent me childhood loungin’ in the keep?”
“I wouldnae have blamed ye,” he said with a shrug. “It’s more than most would’ve done.”
Her smile faded slightly, and she turned her attention back to the horse. “I wasnae given much choice,” she murmured quietly.
Damon opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Alain spoke again. “Thank ye, Me Lady. And ye too, Me Laird.”
The gratitude in his voice was genuine, and Damon felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this wasn’t a lost cause, after all.
As the evening dragged on, they met with more villagers, each interaction revealing more about the people under his care—and more about Lilith.
She knew their names, their families, their struggles. She listened to their stories with a patience and kindness that left him both impressed and envious.
The woman was everything he wasn’t: warm, approachable, trusted. And yet, despite their differences, he couldn’t deny the way they balanced each other.
As they left the last cottage, Lilith glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “Ye handled that well.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”
“Dinnae let it go to yer head,” she scoffed, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
He couldn’t help but grin. “Too late.”