Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
T he storm that had been ravaging MacDonald Castle for the entirety of the day seemed to have no end in sight. The rain and hail had quickly turned into snow, a thick blanket of it covering every flat surface around the castle, and no matter how much the servants tried to keep the chill out of the rooms and the corridors by covering the windows with thick animal skins and keeping the fires lit at all times, the draft that passed through the entire place was relentless, rendering almost every room uninhabitable.
Enya had been in bed all day, under a small mountain of blankets and furs, doing her best to keep warm. While the sun had been up, it hadn’t seemed like such a difficult task. It was only now, late at night, that the cold had seeped into the room and into her bones, making it impossible to sleep.
She had been tossing and turning for the better part of the night, curling up into herself in an attempt to hold onto any body heat she could. However, despite all the covers, Enya still couldn’t get warm, no matter how much she tried. The fire that had burned in the fireplace since that morning was now almost entirely gone, nothing remaining but coals that glowed a dull orange, but she couldn’t even stand the thought of getting out of bed to toss more wood into it. She could only hope this relentless cold would only last the night and that come morning; it would once again be warm enough for her to get out of bed without risking frostbite.
Well, as long as I survive this night.
A part of her was convinced she wouldn’t. Never before had she experienced such a low temperature for such an extended period of time. She couldn’t help but wonder how everyone else was doing; if the servants were left shivering, if Skye and Archibald and Duncan were alright, if Cillian was even more concerned about his people now. When Enya had seen him at the baths the previous night, he had been so fearful that it had shocked her. She had never expected to see him crumble like that. He had always seemed so confident to her, so sure of himself that discovering how he feared disappointing his people had been startling.
There was also the matter of them meeting in the baths while Enya was entirely nude, covered by nothing but water. Late as it had been, she hadn’t considered the possibility that someone would want to bathe at all and to say she had been startled by his presence would be an understatement.
She could only hope he had seen nothing, and if he had, Enya would never know. She doubted Cillian would embarrass her by admitting it, and so she would have to spend the rest of her life wondering just how much he had seen.
A knock on the door, quiet and hesitant, had Enya peeking her head over the covers. “Come in,” she called, expecting to see one of the maids there, but instead, Cillian walked into the room, just past the threshold.
The moment he saw her, his mouth twisted as though he was trying to hold back laughter.
“Are ye cold?” he asked. “Why did ye nae say so?”
“An’ leave the bed?” Enya asked, the mere thought too painful. “Nay, I’ll only be colder.”
“Come,” said Cillian, beckoning her close. “Ye can sleep in me chambers, they’re the only place in this castle where ye can get warm. Well, that an’ the great hall, but that is where everyone else is gathered.”
“Yer chambers?” Enya asked hesitantly. It didn’t sound like a good idea. In fact, it sounded like a terrible idea; like something that would lead them both to a world of trouble.
“I’ll sleep here,” Cillian said, perhaps sensing her hesitation.
Enya blinked up at him in surprise. For all she had judged him as a bad host, Cillian now seemed more than willing to surrender his rooms to her, enduring the cold for the night just so she could be comfortable. Under any other circumstances, perhaps she would have even demanded it as a way to frustrate him even more, but now that he had offered—and now that Enya didn’t know what to make of her undeniable feelings for him—guilt gnawed at her at the thought that she would be sleeping comfortably while he would be suffering.
“Ye spent the other day outside in the storm,” Enya reminded him. “It is a wonder ye didnae fall ill. Ye shouldnae sleep in the cold.”
“Dinnae fash,” said Cillian with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ve slept in colder places. It is only fer the night.”
Though Cillian seemed to have no issue with it, Enya still felt terrible forcing him to give up his room for her. On the other hand, she truly didn’t know if she would live to see the light of day if she stayed in her rooms.
“Perhaps… perhaps we could share yer chambers fer the night,” she suggested, having to force the words out. The moment she spoke them out loud, her heart began to skip beat after beat as she waited for Cillian’s response, and the more she waited, the more she feared she had made a mistake.
“An’ ye would be… amenable tae that?” he asked with an awkward cough to clear his throat. “I wouldnae wish tae?—”
“Nay, nay,” said Enya quickly, shaking her head. “It’s alright. I dinnae mind.”
“Right,” said Cillian. Suddenly, he was stiff and formal, standing tall and straight-backed as though he was addressing one of his men. “Well, then let us go tae me chambers.”
Enya nodded but then hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the best plan of action. The thought of getting out of bed, even if it was only to walk to Cillian’s chambers was enough to paralyze her, as she dreaded the cold she was about to face. Gathering up as many of the covers as she could, Enya waddled out of bed, keeping her body as covered as possible while Cillian leaned against the door with a chuckle, watching her in amusement.
“Is this truly necessary?” he asked. “I have plenty o’ blankets in me chambers.”
“But how else will I keep warm until we get there?” Enya asked, and though Cillian laughed once more, he said nothing else on the matter. Enya followed him out of the room and into the corridor, which was even colder. The thick skins draped over the windows flapped with every gust of wind, snowflakes pouring into the building through the gaps. When they made it to Cillian’s chambers, though, and Enya stepped inside, warmth enveloped her immediately and she let out a sigh of relief as she ran to the fireplace, sticking her hands out towards the flames.
Behind her, Cillian closed the door and perched on the edge of his bed, watching her silently.
“How are yer rooms so much warmer?” Enya asked. “The rest o’ the castle is freezin’!”
“It’s facin’ south,” Cillian said. “An’ the fireplace is large enough tae keep it warm.”
It was true, Enya thought. The fireplace next to which she stood was much larger than any other she had seen in the castle, save for the one in the great hall. Slowly, she began to shed all the layers she had brought with her, piling up the blankets on the chair next to her and keeping just one wrapped tightly around her shoulders like a cloak.
Suddenly, she became very aware of the fact that she was only in her nightclothes and though she still had the extra layer to keep her body hidden from Cillian—who had already seen her in the baths anyway just the previous night—she felt almost naked under his gaze, more exposed than she would have liked. A part of her began to regret her decision to go to his chambers. Though the bed was large enough to fit the two of them without them ever needing to touch, Enya still couldn’t imagine just how torturous it would be to spend an entire night next to him when all she wanted to do was kiss him.
I should have stayed in me chambers! How could I be so foolish as tae think this would be fine?
“Well…” said Cillian, the awkwardness of their previous conversation still lingering. He seemed to be just as lost as Enya felt in this situation, neither of them knowing what to do now that they were supposed to sleep in the same bed. With an awkward shuffle, he got under the covers still fully dressed, limiting himself to the far edge of the bed and turning his back towards Enya. “Goodnight.”
Enya took that as her cue to join him, doing her best to curl up as small as possible at the other side of the bed. There was plenty of space between them, Enya reminded herself, but that wasn’t enough to calm her racing heart. If she extended her arm, she could easily wrap it around his shoulders and that thought wormed into her mind, sinking into it like a hook. She had done her best to ignore him, along with her blossoming feelings, so far but how could she keep ignoring him when he was right there, next to her, shifting uncomfortably on the bed?
Will either o’ us sleep tonight?
It seemed unlikely. The room was warm and the bed was comfortable, even more so than the one in the chambers Enya occupied, but she could feel the heat radiating off Cillian, as well as every small movement he made. Even with her back turned to him, and even knowing that he, too, had his back turned to her, the intimacy of their position was painfully clear to her.
It was only for one night, she told herself. Even if the storm continued, she would return to her rooms. Enduring the cold seemed like a much easier task than enduring this.
Cillian had a problem; he had a quite big problem, in fact.
He didn’t know what could have possibly possessed him when he agreed to share his bed with Thora. He should have known better than to think nothing would go wrong. He should have insisted to stay in her rooms or at least go to the great hall, where the servants and the soldiers had gathered to battle the cold.
What he shouldn’t have done was share his bed with her, as now the mere thought of having Thora that close had affected his body in ways he should have easily predicted. His manhood twitched against his thigh, hardening with every passing moment as his traitorous mind provided him with all sorts of unlikely scenarios regarding how the night would end.
For what seemed like hours to him, he tossed and turned, and irrationally wished it wasn’t so warm in the room, after all. He was flushed, sweat beading on his forehead, and no matter how much he tried to keep his eyes firmly shut and fall asleep in the hopes that his predicament would be resolved on its own, sleep evaded him entirely.
I must dae somethin’.
He needed some fresh air, Cillian decided, and so he slipped quietly out of bed. He had hardly placed his feet on the floor, though, when he felt Thora shift and when he looked at her, he found her wide awake, leaning up on her elbows as she stared at him.
“Where are ye goin’?” she asked.
Cillian stayed silent for a few moments, no excuse coming to mind. “Naewhere.”
“Then why are ye out o’ bed?”
“I’m nae.”
Thora gave him an incredulous look, so Cillian slowly lay back down, making sure that he was hiding his erection. He hoped that Thora could see nothing in the dim light of the room, as the only illumination came from the fireplace, but he had the irrational fear she had somehow sensed it.
“Ye’re actin’ strangely,” Thora said, and though the accusation was fair, Cillian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I dinnae think it concerns ye how I act,” he said, instantly turning defensive. The sooner this conversation was over, the sooner he could go back to fighting his own body.
Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Thora said, “Ye’ve been restless this entire time! How am I meant tae fall asleep when ye keep movin’?”
“I’ll stop movin’.”
“Why were ye movin’?”
From the corner of his eye, Cillian glared at her, wishing she would simply drop the matter. “I couldnae sleep.”
“Are ye cold?”
“Nay.”
“Are ye hot?”
“Nay.”
“Then why are ye like this?”
“Can you stop badgerin’ me?,” Cillian said, turning to face Thora fully, eyes narrowed and voice dropping low.
“I’ll stop when ye tell me what’s wrong,” said Thora. She, too, was worked up now, sitting up straight on the bed to glare at Cillian. “I dinnae ken why ye insist on treatin’ me like this. I asked a simple question an’ ye act as though… as though I am a villain! What are ye hidin’?”
Cillian was quickly losing his patience, a sinister headache creeping over the back of his head. If he had had the suspicion he would not get any sleep that night, it was now confirmed. “Naething.”
“Tell me.”
“Thora,” he said in a warning tone, but Thora didn’t heed it.
“Tell me!”
“I cannae sleep with ye so close tae me!” Cillian shouted before he could stop himself. The moment the words were out of his mouth, his cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he and Thora stared at each other in shock, neither of them able—or even willing—to believe he had made that admission.
She pushed me! What other choice did I have?
“Ach,” said Thora rather unhelpfully. Her own cheeks were a bright red, seemingly glowing in the dim light. She parted her lips as if to speak again, but no words came out, and in the end, they ended up simply staring at each other in an embarrassed silence, until Cillian couldn’t take it anymore.
Not knowing what else to do, he lay back down in bed, turned his back to Thora once more, and drew the covers all the way up to his chin. At least all the embarrassment and the frustration had served to dampen his excitement, and though he wished he would disappear off the face of the Earth, at least he was no longer aroused.
He knew that even so; sleep would not come.