“And nothin’,” Lennox replied. “If ye say nothin’ so be it.”
Frederick’s hands flexed once behind his back.
The matter had not been discussed openly. It had not needed to be. But Lennox was his most trusted man. If he saw it, others would.
“I will manage it,” Frederick said.
“I ken,” Lennox replied. “Ye manage most things.”
There was no mockery in it. Just fact.
They passed a pair of servants who bowed quickly and hurried on.
After a moment, Lennox added, lighter this time, “The child called ye Frederick in the yard.”
Frederick’s mouth almost curved.
“It is preferable that the child call me ‘me Laird’.”
“Aye,” Lennox agreed. “Though the look on yer face when it happened was worth a wager.”
Frederick did not dignify that with a response.
Lennox studied him again, more quietly now. “Ye intend to marry her.”
It was not phrased as a question.
Frederick did not deny it. “It would resolvecomplicationsandoptics.”
“That is one way to look at it.”
“It secures legitimacy,” Frederick continued. “It stabilizes perception. It protects the child.”
“And her?” Lennox asked.
Frederick’s gaze flicked briefly to him.
“She would be protected,” he said.
Lennox nodded once. “Aye.”
They reached the end of the corridor that led toward the council chamber.
Lennox adjusted his belt and continued, “She doesnae fear ye.”
Frederick frowned slightly. “That is inaccurate.”
“She fears losing control,” Lennox clarified. “But nae ye.”
Frederick considered that.
She had braced in the village as though expecting a command. Or worse.
He had seen that tension before. In men who had survived harsh lords. In clans that had known instability.
“She expects force,” Lennox continued quietly. “She prepares for it.”
“And?” Frederick prompted.