It was odd, how generous Innes was being. Adaira didn’t know what to make of her, whether she was genuine or only engaged in a diversion, with another betrayal soon to follow.

As if reading her thoughts, Innes said, “I hope this ill decision of my clan’s can be forgiven, and that the trade you suggested can be continued between us.”

“I’ve been speaking to Moray about the trade,” Adaira said, making a point to glance around at the guards Innes had brought. “I was hoping to see him today.”

“My son is currently disciplining the men who raided your lands,” Innes replied, and her voice turned a shade cooler. “Or else he would have accompanied me today.”

Adaira felt uneasy. This meeting could still go awry. She said, “We also desire to move forward with the trade, and there is a specific item that we would like to receive from your clan.”

“Name it, heiress,” Innes said. “And I will bring it myself to the next exchange.”

Adaira held up the glass vial. The Orenna flower had yet to wilt, and the golden sheen on its petals glistened in the light. She watched Innes’s face closely, and the laird’s brow rose.

“Your clan desires the Orenna flower?” she asked.

“It grows in the west?” Adaira countered.

“It does,” Innes replied. “Although it is quite useless to us, as the spirits are weak.”

“The same can’t be said of the spirits in the east,” Adaira said. “If you can provide us with a basket of flowers, then I can bring resources your clan needs to prepare for winter.”

“Very well,” Innes said. “I will harvest these flowers for you. Give me three days to prepare, and we can meet again for the trade, in a place of your choosing.”

“Agreed,” Adaira said.

She watched as Innes returned to her side of the clan line. She mounted her horse and gave Adaira a nod in farewell before she trotted away, the guards following her with the empty wagon.

Adaira released a shaky breath. She turned only when she felt it was safe to, and even then, Torin immediately guarded her back. Jack, who had been a quiet support, fell into stride beside her. She waited to speak until they had emerged from the woods and returned to their horses, hobbled beneath an elm tree.

“I have at least one thread of proof now,” Adaira said.

Jack frowned. “Which one?”

She met his gaze and held up the Orenna again. “Moray Breccan has lied to me.”

Jack parted ways with Adaira in Sloane, making a stop at Una’s forge. His dirk was sheathed at his side, and his heart was pounding as he waited to speak with her. Una was bustling about her work with sharp focus, and she had several apprentices working with her, one her own daughter, who pumped the bellows and hurried to bring her mother tools.