Chapter 19

Bran woke up feeling like the most terrible man in the world. As he had walked away from Idalia, he had wished he could run back to her, wipe her tears and tell her all would be well. But he had been unable to do that. She was not the only one who felt terrible about what was happening. Of course, he did too.

While the council meeting had still been going on, he had felt like dying. After Andrew had agreed to marry Idalia if she agreed, he had not known how to act or what to do. He had thought of all the things Idalia had mentioned. He certainly did not know what he would do when he saw them together, acting like they were in love, acting like a couple. He did not know what he would do when she grew big with his brother's child, and he certainly did not know what he would do when the child came and they truly became a family.

It was because of all of this that he had been so hesitant to speak to her when she had requested it. Because as he stared at her, all he could see was her saying yes to his brother at the altar, pledging to be his wife, and to be loyal to him. When she had brought it up, it had made him so angry.

Bran knew he had no right to be angry. After all, he had been the one to reject her. He could have had her if he had simply said yes when the council asked him. He knew Idalia would make him happy. She would make any man lucky to call her his wife, the happiest man ever. However, Bran doubted his ability to make her happy. Sure, she believed she could be happy with him now, but he knew all of that would change when she saw the monster he truly was.

More than anything, Bran wished he had met her before any of this had happened. Maybe then he would have been a better man for her, and it would be them getting married soon instead of her being with Andrew.

Bran had heard her crying as he walked away and had wished he could go back to her, but he could not. And now, he felt like a scoundrel. He had remained at a distance, listening for her until she was ready to return to her chambers.

Bran had spent the night tossing and turning and wishing he had done things differently. But nothing had seemed better than to be honest with her about how things were to be. He knew it would not be right for him to play with her feelings by letting her believe there was a way for them to be together when he knew that there was not.

He sighed, sitting up with a weariness in his bones. He had felt more tired in the last few days back at the castle than when he was away, working for August Raymond. At least then, he had been able to shut off his emotions, only allowing himself to feel something when he was around Mahala. Now, everything hurt from letting go of the one person he had bonded with after months of depriving himself of that feeling.

A knock sounded on his door, drawing him out of his self-reproach. He wondered who it could be so early in the morning. His heart raced as he approached the door, wondering if it was possible that Idalia had come to him to tell him that she refused to let him go. He could not tell if he wanted that to happen or not. He wanted her. However, the part of him that did not want to be with her because he believed himself to be bad for her far outweighed his own interest.

He steadied himself and opened the door, a little disappointed to see his brother. They had not gotten the chance to speak alone since the meeting the day before.

"I see that ye have been awake a while," Andrew noted after studying him for a time. "Care to join me for a spar?"

Bran grinned and nodded eagerly, pushing his door open to allow his brother to enter while he changed into something appropriate.

"Been a while since we sparred together, brother. Are ye still hoping to best me?" he asked as he changed, causing Andrew to laugh.

"Aye, it has indeed been a while, and I have spent all of that time sparring with all sorts of people. Ye should ken I am a formidable opponent. I will nae go easy on ye," Andrew teased him, his grin widening.

Together, they made their way out of the room and walked to the training ground. It was still early and there was no one there, so they had all of the space to themselves. Bran picked up a sword, testing the weight of it in his hands as his brother selected his own weapon. Bran made a few slashes at the air before smiling at Andrew once again.

"Ready?" he asked, laughing when Andrew came at him with no warning. Their father had taught them never to wait for an attack.

"Yer enemies will nae warn ye before launching at ye."

Bran blocked his attack, squinting when the rising sun's rays bounced off his sword. He pushed his brother back and grinned, enjoying their spar. He had fought men many times while he had been away, but he had not enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed this fight with his brother. The cool breeze blew, cooling their skin as they sweated from all their exertions. He was shirtless, as was his brother, and so far, none had been able to strike the other.

He attacked his brother, slashing and jabbing furiously as Andrew evaded each of his attacks. Bran's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. His brother had always been good at fighting, but they had grown up sparring together and Bran had watched out for his tell-tale signs, always using them against him. But now, Andrew seemed to have figured out a way to cover them up.

"Ye truly have become even better," he said, smiling at Andrew, who returned his smile.

"Aye, I have, as have ye. I could tell from yer stance that ye would nae make it easy for me." He attacked, hitting Bran with the flat surface of his sword. Bran let out a groan and retreated. He looked up at his brother, who was frowning at him.

"Ye are tense," Andrew said after a while, causing Bran to splutter.

"What? I am nae tense, dinnae get silly," he laughed, but Andrew did not chuckle with him.

"Nae, ye are indeed tense. Ye forget that we have been sparring together since we were boys. I admit ye have gotten better with yer fighting, but ye are nae allowing yourself to loosen up and fight freely."

"I dinnae ken what ye are talking about," Bran denied. He knew exactly where this would go if he agreed that he was, indeed, tense and had had enough of talking about it. All he needed right then was to be able to spar and let go of as much of his worry as he could, without his brother adding to it by reminding him of the reason he was tense in the first place.

Still, he knew he would not get his wish. Bran might have been away for a while, but he still knew his brother well enough to know that they were going to talk about Idalia, whether he wanted to or not. He stilled himself for the topic that was soon to unfold, resolving not to make it easy for his brother.

"I ken more than ye think, Bran. Ye cannae lie tae me," Andrew said just as they resumed sparring. "I think this is about Idalia."

Bran swung is sword hard, pausing when he heard Andrew grunt from the force it had taken to block his attack. His brother looked at him with raised brows when he had recovered from the attack.

"See? Dae ye still think it has nothing tae do with her?" he asked Bran, his smile still plastered on his face.

"I dinnae ken what ye are talking about," Bran replied once again.

"Are ye really sure about me marrying, Idalia? I have nae one to whom my heart belongs, and I am free for an arranged marriage if it is for the good of the clan. What I do ken is that Idalia is a wonderful lass and—" Andrew paused and raised his brows once again when Bran hit him with even more force than he had done the last time. He rolled his eyes at him as if to say Bran was not fooling anyone, and then he smiled, seeming to find it amusing rather than annoying that Bran clearly found it so difficult to talk about his heart troubles.

"Dae ye want tae tell me again that I dinnae ken what I am talking about?" Andrew asked him.

"Ye dinnae ken what ye are talking about," Bran responded even more sternly. He did not want to talk about her.

"Well, brother. I just want tae be certain that this is all yer decision," he told Bran, just as Bran delivered another hard hit that Andrew was quick to block. Bran opened his mouth to speak, yet he didn't know whether he was about to tell Andrew he was not certain or that he was, indeed, in love with Idalia, and Andrew should not marry her. Or maybe he wanted to tell him that it was none of his business once again, as he had stubbornly been repeating.

All of the words flew out of his head the moment he spotted Idalia. He saw that Andrew fixated on her as well, and they quickly lowered their swords as they waited for her to approach. A million thoughts ran through his head as he saw her getting closer, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was beating so loudly, he glanced at his brother, who was standing next to him, to make sure he did not hear it.

Bran could not help but think that, despite his nervousness, it was good that she was there. He knew he had behaved terribly with her. He should not have rejected her the way he had and then kissed her, only to leave her crying in the garden while he retreated to nurse his own broken heart. For God's sake, he was a monster indeed! He had hurt her beyond imagination, and there was a lot he needed to make up for to show her he was sorry.

He studied her face as she got closer. She was so beautiful that it hurt to look at her. Her skin was radiant in the sunlight and her hair, which was falling down her back, billowed in the gentle breeze. She looked every bit a goddess, and Bran wished he had not been stupid enough to leave someone like her crying as she sought for his love and attention.

He opened his mouth to say something to her, anything that came out of his mouth, but before he could, she turned to the side, not bothering to spare him a glance.

"Andrew, may I speak with you, please?" she asked his brother, shocking him to the core. Bran turned to the side, where he had expected his brother to be, but found that Andrew had moved behind him, giving them space, as though he thought she was here for Bran as well. He noticed the shocked look on his brother's face that betrayed his thoughts. She is here for Andrew? Why daes she want tae speak with him?

Bran stepped to the side to get a better view of them as they spoke, still hearing their voices clearly.

"Sorry to interrupt your spar, but I have been hearing things, and I believe it's better to ask the source," she smiled warmly, which sent an arrow right through Bran's heart. "I understand I am supposed to consider a matrimony with you, so I wanted to know if that was, indeed, a consideration of the council," she said, still not glancing at Bran. Andrew quickly dropped his sword and stared at his brother, but Bran was more focused on Idalia and paid him no mind.

"Aye, it is true," he said, and she nodded.

"All right, then. Did you agree to marry me if that is truly Dunn's decision?" she asked him again.

"Of course, I do, as long as ye agree as well, lass. If this is the way tae keep ye out of harm's way I'd be honored to help ye and yer sisters," Andrew replied. Bran whipped his head around quickly in his direction, shocked, even though his brother had given him many opportunities to speak so he would know what to say when the time came. There was no one to blame but himself.

"Ye are a very beautiful and wonderful young lady, and I would be a lucky man tae have ye as my wife," Andrew replied solemnly, and she smiled a gentle smile at him.

"Well then, I thank you for your help, Andrew, I really do. I feel, however, that since we are going to be married, we might as well start getting to know each other a bit better so we are not merely acquaintances on the day of our wedding. How does that sound?"

Bran could feel Andrew's gaze on him. He could feel his world coming to an end, but instead of saying anything, he looked away.

"Of course. Why dinnae I clean up, and then we can talk and get tae ken each other better?" Andrew shrugged. "Maybe we could go for a walk?"

Bran felt his heart beating faster than it had ever done as he stared at the pair, who walked away, talking about something he could not make out from the distance.

‘I cannae dae this. I dinnae think I can survive, watching her with Andrew,' Bran murmured to himself as he watched them go. He made up his mind that once his daughter was saved, he would pack up and leave.

He could never allow himself to be forever tortured, knowing he wanted his brother's wife.