“How do I retain Sutherland lands?” she asked, staring him in the eyes. Her stomach growled slightly, and he set the tarts down next to her on the bed. She did not look at them.

“If I lose,” he said, resisting the urge to force feed her, “I let Sutherland clan rule themselves in their own castle.”

“And I get to return unmarried?”

He frowned. “Nay. That is not part of the proposition, but Sutherlands can rule their own clan.”

She looked mutinous for a moment. “What do I forfeit if I lose? I have little left to give.”

Magairlean. He hated to break her spirit by taking everything from her, but he must win at all costs. He stared hard into her eyes. “If ye lose, ye come below to eat a full meal, three times a day at least.”

“I do not eat that much normally.” She crossed her arms before her.

“And…a kiss.”

“One kiss?”

“Aye, but not as fast as the one ye bruised me with to seal our bargain.”

She uncrossed her arms. “I highly doubt I managed to bruise you.”

“Do ye accept? Sutherland lands against food and a kiss.” Would the lure of Dunrobin and independence be enough to entice her to play?

“Set up the board,” she said.

Victory. He kept his smile inside and set the pieces out, black to her and white to him, the hollowed-out knight in its spot. “Do ye play?” he asked.

“I have.”

Her answer gave him no information about her abilities, but he wasn’t worried. He had been playing chess and learning strategy from his father since he could lift a pawn.

“I am surprised you play games instead of training and warring every second your eyes are open.” She studied the board.

“’Tis a game of battle, lass,” he said. “And all of life is a battle.”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. “To you, life is one big game.”

“Aye. A game of strategy. To keep my people safe and prosperous, I wield them like pieces on the board. It is what I have been trained to do all my life.”

“Excuse us,” Merida said from the doorway. Hannah stood behind her, face uneasy. His aunt looked to Ella. “I still have the wedding costume that I wore to wed your father. I am thinking ye do not want to wear it.”

“Perhaps something not cursed,” Cain said.

Merida eyed the tarts on the bed. “They are raspberry. Quite delicious and fresh.”

“Whatever gown is fine. I could even wear this,” Ella said.

“Eat them,” Merida said, hands stacking on her hips. “Ye did not go down the stairs to claim them, so ye have won.” Her sharp gaze cut to Cain, and she wagged a finger. “The lass won this round.”