Page 61 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
Finley’s head turned toward her, his eyes narrowing slightly in question. “Is this the place?”
She nodded once.
Finley rapped on the front of the carriage, and the driver pulled the horses to a slow halt. The sudden stillness settled heavy in Edin’s bones. She inhaled deeply, steeling herself, before opening the door and stepping out onto the damp earth. Finley followed her, his boots crunching against gravel as he fell into step beside her.
Before them stood what remained of an old, abandoned house. Time and neglect had turned it into something almost unrecognizable; the wooden beams sagging, ivy creeping along the crumbling stone. But Edin knew what lay beneath it.
“This is where ye stop, Finley.” She turned to him, her voice steady. “Ye cannae go where I’m headed.”
A flicker of emotion passed across his face, but he didn’t argue. He studied her, searching her face for something, though she wasn’t sure what. Then, with a short nod, he leaned against the nearest post, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’ll be waitin’,” he said simply.
Edin held his gaze for a moment longer before she turned and pushed open the half-rotted door, stepping into the darkness beyond.
The air inside was cloaked in dust and the scent of old stone. Her steps were careful as she moved across the worn floor, finding the hidden passage with ease. With one last glance behind her, she descended the narrow staircase, swallowed whole by the crypt beneath.
The corridor stretched before her, the flickering torchlight casting twisted shadows against the damp walls. Her boots echoed as she approached the chamber where the Favored awaited her.
A cloaked woman stood at the entrance, her face hidden beneath the deep hood. She inclined her head slightly.
“Ye have returned, finally” she murmured.
“I bring news o’ me mission.”
The woman gave a slight nod before stepping aside, allowing Edin to pass.
The chamber was as she remembered — cold, dark, lined with ancient stone. Three figures sat before her, their cloaks pooling at their feet like spilled ink. Their presence was unsettling, their gazes unreadable.
“Speak,” one of them intoned, their voice layered, almost inhuman.
Edin kept her stance firm. “The mission was successful. The Lennox girl is returnin’ home as we speak.”
Silence stretched between them, thick as fog. Then, as one, the Favored inclined their heads in approval.
“This pleases us,” another voice murmured. “Fer this, ye shall ascend. A higher rank within the Triad awaits ye.”
Edin felt a flicker of something — pride, perhaps — for the girl she once was; the one who had spent years proving herself worthy of such an honor. But that pride was fleeting, dissolving almost as soon as it surfaced.
She exhaled slowly. “I thank ye, but I willnae be takin’ it.”
A pause. Then, shifting in the air, a ripple of something unreadable.
“Unusual,” one of them mused. “Ye have been one o’ our most determined. Why refuse what ye have earned?”
Edin lifted her chin. “Because I want tae be somewhere I feel accepted fer who I am — nae just fer what I can dae.”
The Favored did not speak. The silence between them stretched long and heavy. Then, finally, one of them spoke again, their voice eerily soft.
“Daes this place ye seek have a name?”
Edin felt the corner of her lips twitch. “Aye. Finley Lennox.”
The three figures exchanged glances, their hooded heads tilting slightly as though weighing the words. Then, almost in unison, they nodded.
“It is well, then,” the first figure said. “Ye have fulfilled the contract of yer training. Ye are twenty-five now, officially past the age of service. Ye have our blessin’,” the first figure said. “From this day forth, ye are nay longer an active member o’ the Triad.”
A strange sensation washed over her — relief, perhaps; or maybe freedom. She had never known what it felt like to choose for herself.
