You have no right to stand on this land, Fraser. My daughter’s blood is on your threshold.
Claire says nothing. Not a word of doubt. But I saw it, just for a breath — the flicker. The same flicker I saw at Leoch, when she first learned of Laoghaire. Faith is a fragile thing, even between two souls bound across time. And the Devil’s finest trick is to make the innocent look guilty.
And that is the serpent’s tooth. Not the lie itself. But the hunger for it. The folk on the Ridge have loved me. Died for me. But they also remember I am a laird. And a laird is always half a step from a tyrant in a poor man’s story. outlander s06 m4a
Beneath that mud: MALVA CHRISTIE. Sixteen. With child. Dead by her own hand — or so they whisper.
The cabin is too quiet. CLAIRE sits by the hearth, stitching a torn shirt. Her hands are steady, but her jaw is tight. Jamie enters, dripping rain. He stands in the doorway, water pooling at his boots. You have no right to stand on this land, Fraser
The kind that has buried two daughters already. The kind that has loved one woman for thirty years. The kind that looked at Malva as a bairn in need of guidance, not a conquest.
Aye. And Roger talked him down. For now. Not a word of doubt
He turns. Walks back into the storm.