Chapter 57

The clock struck two in the morning as I sat, my face in my hands, trying to focus on the words humming around the room. Men talked and grunted, each word and each sound a vote in support or dissent of what the previous man had said. Being included in the Delegation meant gaining entrée into a strictly male world. Though I was at ease after my lifetime of existing on such planes, I found being stuck in a room with them for hours on end trying my patience. They were noisy and fidgety and messy and inefficient. It seemed to me they cared more about ensuring everyone else knew they were thinking deeply and strategically without doing so.

Politics did not suit me. The endless back and forth bored me, and the personalities were a nightmare. After hours of chatter, an issue seemingly resolved, someone would pop up out of their seat and claim their specific point of view had not been examined. It would be an outrage to let it go undiscussed. On and on it went.

On the first day of my admittance to the Delegation, I spent eight hours listening to the variety of anxieties the group felt in my late-stage involvement. Would I derail the singing of the Charter — imminent at last! Would I have a list of demands that would need to be debated? What if they had already had the discussions I would like to raise? Could I, a woman of little understanding in the ways of the world, bring anything of value to the conversation?

I protested early and clearly that I had no intention of delaying anything. I was pleased just to be in the room. Still, the dispute went on for hours.

There was a hierarchy to the Delegation, I learned. As the islands numbered in the hundreds, they had elected ten Lairds to speak in the interest of various factions. The alliances were loose and fluid, concerned with resourcing, culture, or economic needs. Calum was one of the governing ten and he spoke for the interests of Ellesmure.

If they had solicited my opinion on the matter, I would have told them it was foolish to allow the second-largest island to speak for the largest if they worried about future hostilities. If I had the mind to, or if Father had a particularly long stretch of delusions, could we not ally with Istimere and take over the smaller islands?

Conversations moved so slowly that often I could leave to manage work around Stormway and return, hours later, to the same point still in open debate. It was mind-numbing.

Ellesmure's needs were vastly different from the smaller islands' concerns. None of the other Lairds relied on regional management as I did. They did not have to delegate as much of their work and governance to others as their territories were so small. Nor did they have the population or geographic expanse I had. Ellesmure was large, I had known that, but I had not been quite so aware that the other islands existed more like family-run homesteads.

It was another point of confusion for me that they would alienate Ellesmure when our connection to the Mainland was so strong. Did I not have the heir to The Fist, the largest territory on the continent, in my bed each night? It looked to me that the Confederation and Ellesmure would do better without each other, but I kept mum.

Scrubbing my face, I yawned as a droning Laird from far out in the Eastern ocean decided "that will be all for today, gentlemen."

Spearing my glance across the room at Calum, I rolled my eyes at that. He grimaced in apology.

Sitting back in my chair I watched as the men filed out of the room, content to leave behind their messes of paper, pens, empty cups, and half-eaten refreshments. Some unseen, unheard woman would clean it up for them. They didn't even have to think about it.

The presumption rankled my nerves, and I made a note to check in on the staff assigned to this room. It was an old ballroom that had been in disuse before I was born, but it was large enough and tucked away in an oft-forgotten wing of the castle so the Delegation could go about their work without notice.

Calum crossed the room and offered me his hand, pulling me out of my chair.

"Walk you home?" He offered through a yawn.

Covering my mouth to hide my exhaustion, I nodded. I leaned into the support his offered arm provided and let him lead me out of the room.

As we passed through the hall, Alan McNeill stepped out from a corner, halting us. Alan was a new Laird from the East. He kept to himself during the debates and was more often found reading in the corner instead of paying attention. He was thin, reedy, with blonde hair and delicate gold glasses that made his large green eyes look owlish. His father had survived the war but died a few months ago. Like me, he was a newcomer to the Delegation. Unlike me, I suspected no one spent a day debating if his attendance would derail everything.

"Laird MacLeod, if you don't mind," he said, closing a battered brass pocket watch and slipping it into his waistcoat.

Most of the other Lairds refused to address me as such, but there were enough of them that did. Each time it made my heart flutter and a thrill shot through me, more exciting than any party or surprise.

"What do you need?" I asked.

"Forgive the intrusion, but I understand your family has a rather complex case of battle madness."

I looked at Calum, who smiled at the man. "Laird McNeill has an interest in emerging sciences. Prior to joining the Delegation, he was a student of a Mainland doctor who has been performing examinations on battle madness patients for a few years now. I mentioned the Ellesmure men were having... difficulties in adjusting back to civilian life."

"I can't promise you a cure, lady, but I've been working on cases at home. Not quite so severe as what I've witnessed here at Stormway, but if you think it could be useful, I'd like to talk with your healers... and maybe set up a few individual sessions with your Father and brothers."

This man's earnestness, his interest, and care, touched me. "You are more than welcome to make use of the infirmary. Or I can find somewhere for you to set up an office," I said. "I can't promise you anyone will show up to your clinic, but if you want to try, I won't stand in your way."

Alan bowed. "Thank you, my lady. Thank you!" Seemingly excited to get to work, even at this late hour, he rushed down the hall without further pleasantries.

"Wait!" I called after him, running to catch up. "My brother Ian used to be interested in medicine. Maybe you could entice him to join your studies? I've found work to be the most curative for myself. And Robert, Rupert, and Walther are showing promising improvements the more they apply themselves."

"Having a daily routine can be very soothing for the sufferers," Alan said, approving of my prescribed cure.

"If Ian were to get better... well, he was quite bright, before. He took great interest in my education and well-being. I would consider it an especial favor to have his capacity restored."

"Consider it done, my lady. I will get started this instant!" With a quick bow, he was off.

I waited for Calum to reach me. "Spilling family secrets, are we?"

Calum shrugged one shoulder. "I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Alan is brilliant. If anything can help your family, I want you to have access to it."

"Thank you," I said, grateful.

"Regret wanting to be included, yet? You always seem so engaged in the discussions." Calum threaded his arm back through mine.

Laughing, I shook my head. "If anything, it makes me respect you more. Which I do against my will, I hope you understand."

"I am but your lowly servant and any appraisal you give is more than I deserve."

"My sweet worm, yes." I squeezed his forearm. "In all seriousness, do you enjoy that? All the debate and flattery?"

"I do, yes. It's a big, complex puzzle. Making sense of it is far more thrilling to me than balancing estate accounts or trying to measure how much seed corn to buy."

"A pity, I find both activities very fulfilling."

"You are exquisitely unique, Eilean. You may be the only selfless leader in the history of the world."

"Flatterer."

"Always." He winked.

I wrapped my arm around his waist and Calum laid his arm across my shoulders.

Falling in step with him, I said, "Even if I find the Delegation mind-numbing, I am glad to have a peek into the madness. I offer nothing to the discussions, but it's important for them to see me there. To remember why and for whom we want to change things."

Calum rubbed my shoulder, "I think so too, speaking gentleman to gentleman."

Laughing, we walked into my rooms. Alex sat by the fire, reading, cozy in his dressing gown with a pot of tea and a plate of cookies, waiting.

"Evening," he said over the top of his book. His eyes flicked to the clock and widened. "These meetings get longer and longer."

"Jealous of me yet, old friend? Keeping your lady out so late in the night," Calum teased, squeezing me against him.

Alex looked up as if considering. "No," he said after a pause. "I have it on good authority that Eilean isn't interested in peg-legs."

Calum's laugh danced across the room. Grinning, I slipped out of his hold and started untucking my shirt. Ducking behind a screen, I kicked off my shoes, stepped out of my pants, and wrapped myself in a new dressing gown. Mother had insisted I get it, finding my wardrobe incomplete during one of her bouts of interest in my life. The garment was ornamental and silly but suited for me. Made of a bold navy satin that made me feel elegant and grown-up.

Rejoining the men, I frowned at a stack of boxes on the bed. "What's all that?"

"Your trousseau, I believe," Alex said, closing his book and biting back a smile.

"Ugh," I groaned, disinterested.

"Two days until The Standing, eh?" Calum asked, opening up the boxes and looking through the new collection of dresses.

"I don't need a reminder," I snapped, pouring water into a basin and wetting my face.

"Have a genius plan in place, yet?" He asked as he held up a flounced-lace petticoat and gagged.

I grimaced as I lathered up my soap. Alex and I shared a poignant stare.

"Sign the Charter and eliminate the ownership and Standing clauses already," Alex suggested. "I thought that's what you brought the Delegation here for."

I huffed a laugh and started scrubbing my face. "I regret the days of my innocence! I used to think it would be that easy. At this point, we won't be able to sign until a committee has approved each of our signatures to ensure the penmanship is neither too legible nor too flourished."

"You're not wrong," Calum agreed.

As I washed my face and neck, I mused on the thoughts I had been keeping to myself. "Not that I'm not grateful to be there, but I wonder at Ellesmure's inclusion in the Confederation at all."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

I swirled my soap-slick fingers around my eyes, enjoying the calming massage. "None of the other islands have the same concerns I do. We are, in effect, too big. What works here is irrelevant to the other islands. Even Calum, with all his landmass, cannot run Istimere the same way that I do here."

There was a long, quiet pause.

"What are you suggesting?" Calum asked, speaking each word deliberately, his tone neutral.

"Nothing." I bent over and splashed my face. Toweling off, I added, "Yet."

"Devious creature," Calum said with a smirk.

I dropped the towel and looked at him. "I'm being honest. I have nothing planned — I couldn't achieve a coup, anyway." I started removing the pins from my hair. "It's late. Chalk whatever you're thinking up to weak-mindedness at the end of the long day."

"Then I will leave you to your... sleep," Calum said, his pregnant pause suggestive enough.

I rolled my eyes, and Alex shook his head.

"Go tend to your own garden, Calum," Alex said thought a grin.

Calum picked up one box and hoisted it into his arms. "I'll go, but I'm taking this. It needs to be fixed."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your wedding gown."

"Burn it," I said, dismissing him.

Calum looked at Alex, the very picture of concern, "Does it worry you, shackling yourself to someone as unromantic as her?"

Alex laughed, "Eilean is perfect. If she turned into a blushing bride, then would I be concerned."

Calum scoffed. "You lovebirds disgust me. Night, then." Without waiting to hear our goodbyes, Calum swept from the room.

I sat down on the arm of Alex's chair. "He's a nut, of course, but I do like it when Calum is around."

Alex chuckled, "So do I."

"Sleep?" I asked, "Or sleep?" I slid into Alex's lap.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not yet."