Chapter 5

"Little brat," Malcolm growled through his gritted teeth lowering his hand.

"And now? What are we going to do, my lord?' Fiona asked. Her trembling voice carried desperation.

She had followed Malcolm to the bottom of the stairs, but she had stayed back a few steps and watched the entire scene.

Malcolm turned and looked at her. "What can we do?" he asked her calmly as he started to walk towards the living room, clasping his hands behind his back.

His head was slightly bowed, which Fiona had learned to recognize over the years at his side. Malcolm was cogitative.

Fiona followed him in silence.

"You know very well that every prospective groom is not obligated to marry Skye," Malcolm continued. "He has the right to choose. This was the king's order when I had first submitted my request to the king's scribe. And the same was in force for all the times I had applied for the same request in the last three years."

"When can you apply again?" Fiona asked, putting her hand to her forehead. All this stress and anxiety about marrying Skye had worn her out. She often suffered from headaches.

Malcolm looked at her with pursed lips. "There's a problem," he divulged.

Fiona let out a hard sigh and closed her eyes. "Oh, no, god. What kind of problem?"

"We have run out of prospective grooms that fit Skye's age."

Fiona furrowed her brows and took a step closer to him. "What do you mean we have run out of prospective grooms?"

"I mean exactly what I said. I think it was clear. There is no other young man I can invite to the castle. In the last three years we have invited everyone who was out there available."

"What??!!" Fiona put her hands over her mouth and rolled her watery eyes. "So that was it? Have we lost all hope that Skye will get married and finally get out of here? But she is already nineteen years old. One year more, and no one will want her for a wife. No one will want to marry an old maid and become a laughing stock in his family and social environment. Alas! She will stay here forever. I won't take it, Malcolm." Fiona put her hands on her head and started pulling her hair, ruining her perfectly styled hair. "I mean it. I can't stand it any longer. I don't want her in here anymore. I can't stand her!"

Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Malcolm walked over to her, grabbed her hands, and pulled them away from her head, preventing her from hurting herself further. He held her hands in his for a moment and gently grabbed her shoulders. Fiona looked up and looked deep into his black eyes. Somewhere in the far end, she saw the flame of his passion flickering again, and she smiled faintly.

She had loved him since she was a thirteen-year-old girl and he was fifteen. She loved him from the first time she saw him in the backyard of their home in their village in the Lowlands.

He had come to exchange some flour for eggs. Little Fiona had watched the whole transaction hidden behind her window curtain in her room.

It was the first time she had seen that handsome and strong boy, and he had managed to scar her heart forever with his image from that very first time.

It was the first time her heart had begun to pound in her chest differently. Since then had never stopped beating in the same way at his sight, no matter how many years had passed, no matter if his black hair had started to turn gray at the temples and wrinkles had begun appearing around his eyes and forehead.

To her, he would always be the boy with black hair and sparkling black eyes. She was perfectly aware that she was no longer thirteen years old. She knew it; she saw in her mirror every day that the time that had passed had taken with it the coolness and freshness from her face and body.

And at that moment, as she looked at him, her heart began to race precisely like it had when she was thirteen. She never stopped adoring him even though he had hurt her many times with his harsh and abrupt behavior towards her. But he had never hit her. Never.

Malcolm strode over to the low table by the fireplace. He took a cup and a bottle of scotch.

"You want some too?" he asked, showing her the bottle. Fiona shook her head, answering 'no.'

Malcolm poured some of the drink into his cup and took a sip.

"Her behavior today was insufferable. This time was the worst of all. Skye outdid herself in the ingenuity of insults." he said and clenched his fist. "I don't know how I held on and didn't grab her by the neck."

"Oh! Malcolm!" Fiona said softly and walked up to him. "I agree, it was worse than ever. There were several times I wanted to slap her, but I held back."

Malcolm smiled and placed his hand on her cheek, cupping her jaw with his fingers.

"Unlike you who were an excellent hostess exactly as I asked you to be. You only spoke when Lennox addressed you and you didn't interrupt us in our conversations. Well done, my dear. Well done!"

Fiona's face relaxed into a smile. She felt her skin burn under Malcolm's hand and wished to kiss her, but to her great dismay, he didn't.

He lowered his hand and turned his back on her, walking towards the large window.

"I wish I could punish her as she deserves," he expressed.

Fiona strode up to him.

"I can do it for you. Ah, let me punish her. I also want her to get what she deserves."

Malcolm shook his head as he continued to look out. It was getting darker.

"You know very well that this is not possible. It doesn't matter which of the two will punish her. I will take the rap for it in the end as lord of this tower."

"They won't know. It has been several months since the last time the king's emissary came with that handmaid to check. They may never come again."

Malcolm turned sharply and looked at her. His gaze was intense on her. The muscles in his jaws twitched as he clenched his teeth.

"Do you want me to be executed by the king? Do you wish to be a widow, Fiona?"

A small scream came out of her mouth as she took a step back, and her eyes widened. Was it possible to think such a thing about her?

She firmly shook her head in the negative. "N-no, never," she sobbed. She crossed the three paces that separated them and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "No, never," she repeated.

Malcolm didn't send her off like other times when Fiona dared to get too close to him.

Malcolm didn't scold her like other times when Fiona dared to get too close to him.

He hugged her by the shoulders, and Fiona's chest filled with joy. Her body relaxed from the tension she felt, and she closed her eyes. A smile appeared on her lips.

"I am leaving for the king's castle tomorrow morning. I will ask to be granted a hearing with him. The issue with the burden that loaded us must be resolved now," he announced to her with a steady, lower-pitched voice.