Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Fifteen

It soon became obvious to Adelleine that Isla didn’t know what she should do or say to Magnus. In fact, Isla was no help at all.

“He kissed ye?” she hissed at Adelleine as the two of them sat by the lake once again, like they always seemed to do those days, Fergus playing near them, but not within ear shot, “He just . . . kissed ye?”

Adelleine couldn’t help but laugh at Isla’s disbelief. “Is it so hard to believe it?” she asked her, “Yes, he kissed me. Now you must tell me what I should do!”

“How should I ken?” Isla asked, “Yer the one that he kissed, why are ye askin’ me?”

“Because you’re his sister!” Adelleine pointed out, “And because . . . well, because I all but ran out of the room.”

Isla raised her eyebrows inquisitively at her, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a half smile. “Ye ran out of the room?”

“Yes.”

Isla burst out in laughter, and Adelleine frowned at her, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to be made fun of, otherwise she would have gone and talked to Duncan. What she wanted was some advice, anything that she could use to help her understand how to interact with Magnus, now that their relationship was more complicated.

Magnus had made it clear after the night that they had spent together that nothing was to happen between them. Perhaps he hadn’t been crystal clear, in retrospect, Adelleine thought, as she had been the one to verbally put an end to it, but in her mind, she had somehow decided that Magnus didn’t see her in such a way.

Had she been mistaken, and was the kiss a proof of that? Or was she reading too much into the kiss?

“How can ye read too much into a kiss?” Isla asked, “It’s a kiss, Adelleine. If he kissed ye, he wants ye.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Adelleine asked, gasping when she realised that her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. She groaned, rubbing her face with a hand, and for a moment wished that the ground would swallow her, so that she wouldn’t have to continue having that conversation.

“Aye, ye did,” Isla said, reaching over to take Adelleine’s hand and hold it in her own.

Adelleine had only known Isla for a few weeks, but even so, it was impossible for the two of them to not be close already. There was something about Isla, a warmth and openness that Magnus didn’t have. Where he was harsh and strict, she was soft and tolerant. Where Magnus liked to stay in his study, surrounded by his papers and his books, Isla liked to speak to everyone in the castle every single day and to run around in the woods with Adelleine and Fergus.

Were it not for their physical resemblance to each other—and their biting, scathing humour—Adelleine would have never believed that they were so closely related.

Isla knew more about her than any of her cousins had ever found out. Even though Adelleine had spent a decade with them, and even though she was close to their age, she simply had never bonded with them as much as she had bonded with Isla in the span of the few weeks she had been in the castle.

She was grateful to have someone to talk to there, someone who didn’t seem like a stranger to her. Her friendship was more than Adelleine could have ever hoped for.

Even when she made fun of her for overthinking a simple kiss.

“But I don’t know what to do, Isla,” Adelleine insisted, “I don’t know how to speak to him, what to say to him at all. How am I supposed to tell him anything when I don’t know how he feels about me?”

“Adelleine, lass . . . yer thinkin’ about this too much,” Isla said, “Magnus kissed ye, and so it’s obvious that he wants ye. All ye have to do is nae push him away. Just . . . just talk to him or kiss him again, I dinnae ken. Whatever ye do, I’m sure he’ll . . . enjoy it.”

“Isla!” Adelleine protested, though she couldn’t hold back a giggle, “How can ye say that?”

“I can,” Isla said with a small shrug, as she stood, brushing the dirt off her dress, “I’ll be on me way noo.”

“Where are you going?”

The blush that creeped over Isla’s face at that question was all the answer that Adelleine needed, and when Isla spoke, she knew her words were a lie.

“I have . . . obligations.”

“Hmm . . . say hello to Hendry from me.”

Isla stumbled over her words, her hands bunching up into fists by her sides. “I . . . I’m nae seein’ Hendry!” she all but shrieked, her voice more high-pitched than Adelleine had ever heard it before.

Of course, it didn’t take any more prodding for Adelleine to know that Isla was lying.

“Why don’t you want anyone to know?” she asked, “Why don’t you want me to know?”

“Because ye speak what’s on yer mind without even kennin’ it, lass!” Isla reminded her, “I dinnae want it to slip out of ye when yer speakin’ to Magnus! He’ll go mad!”

“Oh, I’m sure that he will,” Adelleine said. In fact, she could see Magnus’ face in her mind, red with fury, chasing Hendry around the courtyard for a beating if the man touched his sister. “But I won’t tell him anything, I promise!”

“There’s nothin’ between me and Hendry,” Isla insisted, even though she had almost admitted it only moments earlier, “I’m nae seein’ Hendry. I dinnae care what ye or Fergus say, I’m nae seein’ him!”

“Children often say the truth, you know,” Adelleine teased her, “They can be much more perceptive than adults, and well . . . Fergus did say that you like Hendry. I can only believe what he says over what you are saying.”

Isla didn’t reply. She only blushed even more, her face turning an alarming shade of red, before she turned around and walked away, leaving Adelleine alone with Fergus.

Adelleine laughed as Isla walked away, loudly and obnoxiously just to annoy her even more, but once she was out of earshot, she turned to look at Fergus.

It had been a while since the boy had last spoken, but at least he seemed a little happier to Adelleine. He had a small smile on his face while he was playing and running around, and she was quite certain that he would manage to be around other children soon enough.

It didn’t help that he was growing up all alone, Adelleine knew, surrounded by adults instead of children his own age, but ever since his mother’s death, not only had Magnus distanced him from other children, but Fergus himself didn’t seem to be too interested in playing with them.

Adelleine knew it would take some time, but in the end, he would end up loving being around other children.

A terrified yelp yanked Adelleine out of her thoughts, then, and she soon realised that while running around, Fergus had stumbled and fallen straight into the lake.

The freezing lake, with its deep waters.

Adelleine stood in an instant, yanking the earasaid that she was wearing off and throwing it on the ground. Then, she jumped into the lake, not hesitating for even a mere moment.

The water was freezing, indeed, and Adelleine could feel it surround her as her clothes became drenched in it. Fergus was still managing to hold on, kicking his legs and his arms as much as he could to keep himself afloat, but he was getting more and more tired by the second, the cold and the exhaustion getting to him, since he was only a young child.

Adelleine tried to ignore the cold that seeped to her bones, though it was easier said than done. She could already feel her fingers going numb, a tingling sensation spreading all over her body, as though she was being pierced by a million little needles. She swam towards Fergus, her heavy clothes now even heavier with water dragging her down as she did, but eventually, she reached him.

She reached him before it was too late.

Adelleine swam towards the shore, dragging Fergus with her, who was doing his best to help her by trying to keep himself on the surface. Soon, they made it to the shore, and Adelleine helped Fergus pull himself out of the lake, relief washing over her once he was safe and sound.

She wasn’t so lucky.

Once she pushed Fergus onto the shore, it seemed as though all her energy left her body. Whatever strength she had found inside her to save him was not enough for her to save herself, too, and suddenly, Adelleine found herself sinking.

The lake was deep, deeper than she had thought. Her soggy clothes were dragging her down, making it impossible for her to hold herself up onto the surface of the water, and Adelleine couldn’t help but panic more with every breath that she took.

It even hurt her to breathe, her lungs filled with cold air, her ribs aching with it.

It wasn’t the way that she would choose to die. It was painful and terrifying, the thought that she would be in the dark depths of the lake forever leaving her more breathless than the cold ever could.

Her thoughts drifted to Magnus. He had already lost too much, and now he was going to lose her, too. For a moment, Adelleine wondered whether that thought would give her the push that she needed to drag herself to land, but no matter how much she wanted to spare Magnus the pain, her limbs were simply too heavy to move, frozen and stiff, and she knew that there was only one way that her day would end.

It was a shame, she thought. She had barely managed to live at all. She had never seen the world like Jacob had, she had never gotten married or had any children like her parents had, and she had certainly not spent that many years on Earth.

It was a real shame.

It stung to breathe, and it hurt to fight.

And suddenly, she wasn’t breathing anymore.

It was like her own body was fighting her breath. Her mouth shut itself, not allowing any water in, but also not allowing any air, and soon, she found herself drifting downwards, towards the bottom of the lake.

Her head felt as though it was going to explode. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t fight anymore, and then—she let go.

Adelleine’s body gave in to the cold, to the water that surrounded her. Her mouth opened, seemingly having a mind of its own, and water rushed in, but it didn’t hurt anymore. The pain subsided, and for a moment, she was alright.

It wouldn’t hurt, she thought. She would die, but at least it wouldn’t hurt, which was more than she could say for Jacob or her parents. Besides, her death meant that she would see them soon once more, and though she couldn’t help but mourn the loss of her own life and be saddened by the thought of those she would leave behind, she was also glad that she would see her family again.

Adelleine had half a mind to say a prayer, one last time, but she couldn’t remember any. She couldn’t remember anything, in fact, and she could think about nothing other than the fact that she would soon be dead.

She let go of the last bit of breath that she was still holding, bubbles rising to the surface as she did. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

And then, there was only darkness.