Well, Keeley had gotten the prince, and Rionna had gotten the skills to protect herself. She wasn’t sure who had come out ahead in the bargain.

She found a large bolder and eased down onto the cold surface. Her arse would freeze if she stayed long, but she wasn’t quite ready for the confrontation that must be forced with her husband.

Caelen walked through the kitchens, his expression grim. Rionna shouldn’t be below stairs yet. Hell, she shouldn’t even be out of bed. He intended to keep her there at least another fortnight.

But what worried him more than her being out of bed was her state of mind. The attack had deeply affected her. She’d been quiet, reserved, timid even. And Rionna was not a timid lass. He feared that the attack had irrevocably changed her or damaged her in some way. And he was helpless to change it.

He stopped at the doorway leading outside, after the women in the kitchens reported that she’d not paused on her way out. As he stepped into the snow, he looked up to see her sitting in the distance, her back to him as she stared up at the mountains.

The knot he suffered so frequently since his return from the hunt clutched his throat as he watched her hair blow this way and that in the breeze.

She seemed so slight. Fragile. It was a word he kept coming back to over and over, but it aptly described her appearance.

She looked alone and vulnerable, as if she had no one in the world to protect her. No one had protected her when she’d needed it the most. It was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.

“Laird, do not be angry. What she wears is a comfort to her. She needs that right now.”

Caelen turned in surprise at Sarah’s words. The woman stood behind him, watching Rionna with worried eyes.

“Think you I give a damn what she wears? I’m more concerned with her well-being.”

Sarah nodded approvingly and Caelen gestured her away.

He stepped softly through the snow, not wanting to frighten or disturb Rionna. He thought she resembled a doe, poised to run at the slightest sound or provocation. But as he drew closer, he could see the vacant, distant look in her eyes as she stared away from the keep.

Had the attack damaged her permanently? Would she never be right again? It was early to worry over such possibilities, but he couldn’t help but wonder at how deep the scars would run.

“Rionna,” he called softly.

He heard her quick intake of breath as if he had indeed startled her. She whirled around, her eyes a little wild until her gaze settled on him and then she quieted.