Page 39 of The Protector’s Promise

A visitor was nothing unusual, so why did their steward behave so oddly?

“Show them in,” Court said.

“She asks for a private reception.”

Marion and Court exchanged glances. Though others may not have seen it, Marion glimpsed a slight crease in his forehead. If he was worried, then she was as well.

“Who is she?”

“She gave no name. But she—”

“Show her to the east tower chamber,” Marion said, anxious to see who could inspire such wariness in the steward. If her parents had not just returned to Scotland after a brief visit to Halbury Castle, she would have expected they were the visitors. Marion smiled, remembering her parents’ reaction—their joy that she and Court had found each other.

Suddenly, Marion knew the identity of their visitor. At least, she suspected she did.

By the time she and Court made their way to the visitor, she was convinced the Priestess of the Stone would be inside the private chamber to which she’d been shown. Marion squeezed her husband’s hand and received a reassuring squeeze in return.

She was about to share her thoughts when they turned the corner and were greeted by a guard. Marion was still learning the layout of her new home and had not realized they were so close.

Court nodded to the knight standing at the door, and when they entered the room, Marion held her breath, waiting for the cold to come. But it did not, would not, for she had been correct. Would the priestess be angry at their decision? A familiar face smiled at them as they entered. It was strange to see her here, in this very ordinary room. The pools suited the priestess much more than this chamber.

“I apologize for the request,” she started as soon as they walked into the room. “I cannot stay long.”

Her lilting voice filled the chamber, and she smiled as she glanced down at their still-joined hands. Relief washed through Marion. She did not appear to be upset.

“I came to see if that rumor was indeed true.”

Marion and Court exchanged a glance.

“This”—she waved a hand toward them—“has happened only once before.”

Surprised, Marion asked one of many questions she had about their joining and the stone.

“I wondered about that, but how is it possible? We thought the stone might be responsible for bringing us together.”

The priestess gave Court a stern glance. “Nay,” she said. “Your seizure of the stone ensured only that Lady Marion would find you.”

“Does that mean—” Court began.

“Your joining has nothing to do with the stone.” The priestess looked at Marion then. “May I see it?”

“How did you—”

“I can sense it, as you can.”

Marion let go of Court’s hand and reached into the small leather purse hanging at her side. Pulling the stone out, she began to hand it to the priestess, but the ethereal woman shook her head.

“Nay, it is yours now.” She looked at Court. “Both of yours. I keep it safe only when it awaits a new protector. At least”—she frowned at Court once again—“my ancestors and I usually are able to keep it safe. To see things as they truly are . . . that is a power I’ve never encountered before.”

Marion squeezed Court’s hand. No doubt he was confused, as she was, but it seemed unlikely the priestess would ever reveal how she’d known about their powers.

“But now that it is in your possession, you will protect it, together.”

“What is my role?” Court asked. He’d asked Marion’s mother what she knew about the stone and his role in protecting it, but she’d had no answers for him beyond what she had already shared with Marion.

“That stone,” the priestess said as Marion put it back where it belonged, “is the lifeblood of Scotland. Most often, its nemesis intends harm upon our land. But now our interests are aligned with those of our southern neighbors. It is possible that the borderlands will suffer without your joint protection. And with it, the fate of both Scotland and England.”

They were to protect the border. And peace along the border meant peace for their two lands. Of course.