Chapter Nine
“Do you never miss the sun?” Aemyra asked, the damp soaking through the seat of her breeches.
After a mug of piss-poor ale, Thear had snuck her through the city. Skirting the eastern shore of Loch Deur, he had led her down a small jetty above the gleaming waters directly opposite the caisteal.
Thear shrugged, one knee drawn up so he could rest his elbow on it as he lounged. “I spend more time above ground patrolling the border, but you get used to it. Most people think it a small price to pay in return for safety.”
“I suppose it’s all right if you like moss and mushrooms…” Aemyra replied.
Alone in the early hours of the morning, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world.
Thear threw small pebbles into the water, each one striking the surface with a resounding plop, the shimmering light rippling.
“Why does the loch glow?” she asked.
“Probably because of the sapphires.” Thear shrugged.
“It’s full of them, right?” Aemyra asked, peering more closely at the surface of the water.
The corner of Thear’s mouth lifted. “As well as topaz, clach-mhara, quartz, amethyst…If you want crystals or gemstones, àird Caolas is the place for you.”
He pulled a necklace out from under his shirt, a gold chain sporting an oval crystal cradled by delicate gold loops.
Aemyra thumbed the garnet on her dagger, wondering if her gem had also been mined in these tunnels. “You would never know to look at the place,” she said quietly.
Thear shrugged. “My father prefers to invest his riches in his people. If you look closely, no one here is starving. No one is poor. We might not eat off of fancy plates or have a caisteal filled with gold—but we want for nothing.”
It was refreshing, now she noticed, to see how every house appeared equal to its neighbors. The city rose from the base of the cave in a splendor of dark gray stone, the bridges quiet at this time of night. The whole structure really was a spectacular design, if a little dank.
“Everybody wants something,” Aemyra replied with a sigh. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
Thear was pensive, and Aemyra sensed silence didn’t come naturally to him.
“How does your father manage such parity?”
“Accountability,” Thear replied in his rumbling brogue.
“He publishes the figures. People have a right to express their opinion on where their money is being spent at a quarterly meeting. After a sparse harvest, people have volunteered to assist with farming or offer a higher tithe. It isn’t difficult when everyone’s goal is unity.
My father takes a little more than most, but he works harder than anyone else to provide. His people don’t mind.”
Aemyra was quiet as she absorbed this, deciding she could learn a lot from Laird Lonan.
“My father was deeply affected by the death of my mother. He regrets not supporting your claim sooner, but he has not left the caisteal himself in years. He was petrified of sending me to war knowing I might never return.”
Aemyra softened further. She knew a little about the lingering effects of grief and trauma.
“Must be nice to have a father who cares about you as a person and not just for what you can do for him,” she replied.
Draevan was so hungry for power that Aemyra often wondered if he would rather see the world burn than allow anyone but her to rule.
“My reason for agreeing to this alliance is not entirely selfless,” Thear said. “My mother was killed by Covenanters.”
Aemyra lifted her eyes from the loch to find Thear lost in memory.
“The Chosen had come preaching peacefully a few years prior but no one had paid much mind and they sailed onward to Tìr Uisge. My mother was traveling between villages, collecting my father’s tithe as I now do, when they came back.”
Despite the warm water, Aemyra shivered and Thear thumbed his crystal necklace.
“Ships full of fighting men prejudiced against Dùileach swarmed the village alongside Covenanters. My mother did what she could to get people to safety, but it was the first time they had experienced what we now know as the binding agent. The village never stood a chance.”
Aemyra bit her lip to stem the emotion that had risen within her. Whatever she had expected from the chimera warrior, it hadn’t been empathy.
“I have experienced the effects of the Chosen’s chemical agents myself. I already have people researching an antidote. My brother leads the search himself,” she said.
Thear’s eyes appeared darker as the light flickered across his face. Two green orbs that belonged to Dòiche, sitting farther up the jetty, were trained on Aemyra’s back.
“So you would marry me to get revenge?” Aemyra asked.
Thear shook his head. “My mother was a gentle soul, well matched with my father. She would have hated the idea of me making killing my life’s purpose, and my father has already tried to dissuade me.
” He leaned forward and dared to tuck Aemyra’s braid back over her shoulder.
“But supporting the true queen to take back her throne and rid Tìr Teine of the Covenanters for good? I do believe she would have wanted me to commit myself to that cause.”
It had been a long time since anyone had shown such belief in her, and the words were intoxicating, his scent almost more so.
“What was your mother’s name?” Aemyra asked softly.
“Moira,” he replied, his voice a little gruff. “She died four years ago.”
“I know what it is to lose a mother. I am sorry.”
Thear’s gaze lingered on her face. “Some say the true reason this loch glows is because the Great Mother came here a thousand years ago and cried her tears into it.”
The glowing blue light was skimming the arch of Aemyra’s foot, and she asked, “What did Cailleach have to cry about?”
Thear sighed. “All mothers cry. Their hearts exist outside of their bodies.”
Aemyra gazed into the glowing water, watching the light refract in the ripples her feet made.
“My mother’s name was Orlagh,” she offered up before she even realized she had been planning on saying it. “She adopted us when our birth mother died.”
“You have lost much,” Thear said.
“Orlagh was there my whole life. I don’t know how to move through this world without her.
The perpetual questions about my birth mother—do I walk like her, do I have her voice, did her hair curl too—will always haunt me.
But it doesn’t hurt like losing Orlagh. She watched me take my first breath even as my mother took her last.”
“The Goddesses can be cruel, discriminate both with their blessings and their judgment,” Thear said, his voice a low rumble.
Aemyra lifted her head. “How does Ceana cope with the grief?”
Thear smiled indulgently. “She’s a wonder, that one. Goddess help the clan when she takes the helm. My sister often appears to be one thing, then will suddenly do something to shock you entirely.”
“I thought she was feeding a kitten in the hall until I saw its venomous tail,” Aemyra replied.
Thear laughed, the sound deep and rich. “So you met Macanta.”
Aemyra frowned. “Forgive me if I have misinterpreted Clan Leòmhann’s customs, but don’t you all Bond to adult chimeras?”
Thear grinned. “We are supposed to.”
Aemyra shook her head, confused. “But—”
“My sister came out of that cave clutching the tiniest cub I have ever seen, horns barely more than two little nubs, suckling on her thumb like a docile housecat. As she is his heir, my father wants to keep her safe most of all.” Thear paused, growing serious.
“I know he doesn’t always make the right choices, but his intentions are never to cause harm.
We vow to repay our earlier indecision by supporting you wholeheartedly in reclaiming your throne. ”
Aemyra clutched the jetty under her thighs.
Fiorean had promised her the same thing.
Vowed to see her sit the throne as they worked together to protect his family and their territory.
How could she trust Thear, or his father?
She had blindly trusted Fiorean, and yet the level of deception and disregard he had inevitably shown her was enough to make her feel faint, and she felt a tug behind her navel like the Goddess was pulling her toward àird Lasair.
She tried to stop the panic rising in her chest at the mere thought of Fiorean and Alfred working together within the walls of Caisteal Lasair as the promise mark flared white-hot.
For a Bonded Dùileach to outlaw temple worship, to imprison priestesses and turn a blind eye to the transgressions of the Chosen…
Fiorean had betrayed the very essence of himself the moment he had sat upon her throne.
The swipe of a dagger against her nipple, the taste of iron and magic on her tongue…
“Are you all right?” Thear asked. “You’ve gone green.”
Aemyra gave herself a mental shake. “It’s just the light from the loch; we can’t all be blessed with immaculate complexions.”
Thear’s expression was perceptive. “You need not fear. The Covenanters have never made it inside àird Caolas, and they never will.”
Wrapping her arms around her knees, Aemyra scanned his handsome face.
Where Fiorean was the flicker of firelight draped in dark mystery, Thear was the gleam of summer sunlight across the ocean. Both men were impossible to compare, and hard to resist.
“You will bear the title of king one day and I expect you to take that duty seriously. Until you prove your loyalty, I will not hold the burning branch or speak the words in temple,” she warned him.
Something akin to disappointment washed over Thear’s face, but he recovered quickly. “Not quite the proposal I was expecting, but I’m willing to reserve judgment until you finish.”
In spite of herself, Aemyra’s lips quirked. “Our match will be strictly for political gain to win this war. My heart belongs to no one.”
Thear threw himself dramatically against the jetty post as if Aemyra had pierced him with an arrow.
“Your Majesty, you wound me. How will I ever recover from such an unfeeling declaration?” he called out, loudly enough that Aemyra feared he would wake the sleeping town.
“Shh!” she hissed, choking on a laugh as she clamped her hands down on his full lips.
With a grin that caressed her palms, Thear wrapped his hands around her wrists and gently pushed her away. His smile faded as his expression grew serious.
“I vow never to use you,” he said, his amber eyes penetrating. “I will never deceive you to accomplish my own goals.”
Aemyra’s breath caught. She still didn’t trust him, but it meant more than he knew for him to have said those words without provocation.
Thear brushed his thumb over the promise mark. “Just remind me never to get on your bad side,” he said, a thread of apprehension in his voice.
Aemyra took a steadying breath. “Fight for me and you won’t have to worry.”
“My father will pledge our clan to your cause when we take the oath, and my trodach will be at your disposal,” Thear said carefully. “But as much as I find you utterly fascinating, I agree with your terms. I will not bind myself to you in marriage until you fall in love with me.”
Aemyra let out a shocked laugh. “You sound awfully confident that it’s going to happen.”
Thear’s eyes darkened. “I’ve won greater challenges, and you already admitted you find me handsome.”
Aemyra pushed him clean off the dock for his cheek. Thear made a colossal splash, and Dòiche gave an indignant snarl, but Aemyra found a laugh bubbling in her chest.
Thear surfaced with an infectious grin, the delectable dimples in his cheeks her only sign that he was about to retaliate.
“No, no, I am your qu—”
Too slow to move on the damp dock, Aemyra scrabbled for purchase as Thear’s hand clamped around her ankle and dragged her into the water.
It was delightfully warm, and bubbles tickled her ears. She came up with a gasp, wiping water from her eyes.
Thear was standing less than an inch away.
Aemyra froze, heart thundering in her chest.
Rivulets of water dripped from his thick eyebrows and down his cheeks, white shirt clinging to every rippling muscle that lingered underneath. Thear watched Aemyra’s eyes rove across his body with a smirk.
Damn him to Hela.
“Do you still doubt my confidence?” he asked, his voice wickedly low.
Aemyra sculled away from him. “There is a fine line between confidence and arrogance.”
Thear’s lips quirked. “And you walk it well, my queen.”
Understanding passed between them, and Aemyra spoke.
“A lengthy betrothal then,” she said.
Thear inclined his head. “Your spectacular right hook did have me debating agreeing at all, but I’m willing to take the risk.”
“It will be enough to placate both your father and mine.”
Thear’s eyes roved across her face. “We would have to act appropriately smitten with each other in public of course.”
Aemyra shook her head. “That won’t be necessary, plenty of marriage alliances are strictly political, this one need not be any different.”
Thear grinned wolfishly. “I believe I must insist.”
Aemyra’s jaw dropped. “Why?”
Thear looked down at her. “My warriors know my reputation and would expect nothing less than for you to be besotted with me.”
Aemyra snorted in a way that was entirely un-queenly. “I doubt that very much.”
“Care for me to show you?” Thear asked, his eyes darkening again.
“No!” Aemyra said.
Her voice was entirely too high to be convincing, and Thear waded closer. Finding herself pressed against the jetty post with his hard body in front of her, Aemyra should have been frightened.
Instead, she felt breathless, and warm everywhere.
“I look forward to proving you wrong, Your Majesty,” Thear said, bending his head.
Heart thundering in her chest, Aemyra scrambled to find coherent words. “Wr-wrong about what?”
Thear chuckled, the sound dark and erotic as his lips dared to skate against the shell of her ear.
“That you will give your heart to no one.”
With that disarming declaration, Thear pulled himself up onto the jetty that was too high for Aemyra to reach.
He didn’t bother to help his queen out of the loch, or escort her back to the caisteal. As he mounted Dòiche and left her behind, Thear rose in her estimations.
But as she stroked for the shore, Aemyra reminded herself that no matter how charming he was, she could not be ensnared again.