Prologue #2
"Then ye woke me," he told her. "Nothin' more." He kissed her gently on the top of her head. "And I was lucky enough that yer gorgeous green eyes were the first thing I saw."
Maeve laughed a little. "Dinnae be so daft," she told him. "Ye couldnae even see when ye woke—the sun's only just risin' now."
He moved around and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss that bid her good morning in the best way he knew how. When they broke apart, he murmured, "Ye're wrong. It doesnae matter how dark it is or where we are. I can always, always see ye."
"Ye big soft man," she told him in a fond voice. "Imagine what Darren would say if he heard ye spoutin' such romance"
"Darren will find his sunlight eventually," Cailean promised her. "One that'll drive his shadows away too, just like ye've done with mine."
"Ye think even our flirty, carefree Darren has shadows?" Maeve asked teasingly.
"We all do, me love," Cailean replied. In his mind's eye, the image from the end of his dream still lingered, the False King standing above him with a sword while his friends and family lay dead around them. "Ye ken that better than anyone. We just need tae help each other through it."
Maeve kissed him lightly again. "I think it's time we broke our fast. Shall we make our way down tae the kitchens and see if we can steal somethin' from the cooks?"
Cailean smiled, but his stomach was still roiling.
The images from the dream were not fading away, and he wanted to take some time to think about why it was affecting him so badly—and maybe even what it could mean.
Was he the type of person who believed that dreams could mean something?
A while ago, he would have said no, but today…
after everything he'd been through, after everything they'd all been through…
he would be foolish to not at least acknowledge every potential warning that the world threw at him.
"I'm nae hungry yet, love," he told her. "Why dinnae ye go down and get somethin'? I'll wait here."
Maeve frowned. "And what will ye do in the meantime?" she asked. "While I'm down rustlin' breakfast? Will ye sit here and brood?"
"I was thinkin' I'd sit here and…"
"So, aye," Maeve told him. "Well, I happen tae think that's nae a good use of the king's time."
He still wasn't used to the sound of that—of people calling him king—but it didn't make him flinch like it used to, especially not coming from her.
Maeve draped her arms around his neck and moved herself up, positioning herself over his legs so that their faces were close. The weight of her on his lap was comforting, and he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close.
"So," he asked when their noses touched, "What is a good use of the king's time?"
Panting, sweating, and grinning, Cailean moved in again while Maeve stood ready. "Ye ken," he told her as their swords and bodies met in the middle, "I'd thought ye meant somethin' a wee bit different."
"Nonsense," Maeve replied, parrying him with her sword and knocking his attack to its side. "Ye needed tae spar, and here on the trainin' grounds before everyone else. It's time for us tae have fun."
Cailean laughed wildly, dodging out of the way as she aimed an attack toward him. It took him by surprise when her moves were usually so defensive, and he barely managed to avoid it. Pride flared in his chest as he skidded along the damp morning grass, spinning out of the way.
"Expect the unexpected," Maeve called mischievously, then danced out of the way as he aimed a light blow toward her in return.
They continued to spar, and though others started to appear on the field, Cailean didn't pay them any notice yet, focusing only on the joy of what was happening here, the way that sparring with Maeve was relieving some of the tension from his shoulders and helping bring him into the here and now.
Before, he would run and train alone to try to bring himself down, but he had never felt like it worked successfully.
He'd just grown more and more desperate, more and more sure there was no hope.
But now that he knew Maeve, now that he had her in his life, he'd started to feel much differently—much more like that sun would rise again because she was here with him.
And sparring with Maeve was an activity that brought it all to the forefront.
She wasn't a helpless maiden, screaming and begging to be rescued.
He'd trained her, Senan had trained her, and she'd worked hard to shape herself into a woman who could fight for herself.
She could protect herself and everyone else if she needed to, and respect and joy filled him when he turned to look at her.
"Ye're amazin'," he told her, lowering his blade and stealing a kiss, which she responded to briefly but eagerly.
"I am," she said, laughing, then kissed his cheek before raising her thin sword again—the sword his family's sigil had bought for her, the sword that had helped defeat Kyle Darach and save her sister, Breana. "And ye're amazin' too. That's why we work so well together. Now, stop talkin', and—"
Her sword lightly poked him on the arm, not hard enough to make a dent, but hard enough to make a point.
"Tut, tut! Allowin' yerself tae get distracted in battle?" Maeve asked.
"Ha! Ye could distract the great heroes themselves with a flutter of yer eyelashes," Cailean told her, and raised his own sword.
They began their spar again, and as more people approached the field and more eyes were on them, they fell into practiced routines, transforming the battle into a playful dance the two of them shared.
Right now, for this moment at least, Cailean was free from the shadows that had haunted his dreams last night, free from the fear that had disturbed his sleep.
Right now, the sun was shining brightly.
But as Cailean met Maeve's eyes across their swords, a dark shadow passed across his heart.
Maeve could look after herself just as well as many of his warriors.
All of his friends and family could look out for themselves, or at least for each other.
And, of course, he would never leave them, not while there was still breath in his lungs and his heart was beating.
But the shadow of the False King still loomed over them. The other clans were not rallying to his cause as he had hoped they would. And the dream still echoed in the back of his mind, faint but present and horrifying.
Because he was not just a dream; he was real. And one day, Cailean would have to face him, and Maeve would be by his side.
The fight for their future would be taken together. Cailean knew that. But he worried that the path was not an easy one and that their battle would be fraught with danger. He only hoped that it was a danger they could all get through alive.