Chapter Five #3
Trahern might tell him, but when she glanced back at the Irish giant, he held her gaze.
It seemed he would not intervene, allowing her to say what she would.
She suspected the bard was quite good at keeping secrets.
Trahern approached his older brother, King Patrick, who sat upon a dais at the far end of the Great Chamber.
While the king appeared amiable, there was also a veiled strength within him.
Carice suspected that few men dared to cross him.
Her brother was staring at her with a sense of uneasiness, as if he expected her to fall over at any moment.
To break the tension, she ruffled Killian’s hair and smiled.
Then she leaned against him, and they walked together toward the dais to pay their respects.
She wasn’t certain if she was expected to dine with the King of Laochre, but she would follow the necessary courtesies.
As they drew closer, she saw Lady Taryn.
The woman met her gaze with a warm welcome in her eyes, but there was a sudden tension in Killian.
Interesting. Because if she was not mistaken, he had fought on behalf of Lady Taryn. When Carice studied his bruises and swollen knuckles closer, she became more certain of it.
She leaned upon her brother and beckoned for the young woman to join them.
Taryn wore an overdress of cream, trimmed in silver threads.
Golden balls hung within her hair, against her cheeks, but Carice knew the real reason for the elaborate styling.
It was to hide the scars on Taryn’s cheeks.
Though she didn’t know how the young woman had become disfigured, she understood how it felt to have everyone staring.
Though some would think it an unlikely match, Carice believed that Killian deserved a woman who recognized the good man he was. And Killian didn’t seem to mind Taryn’s scars at all.
She leaned in to her brother and murmured, “You like her, don’t you?”
“Stay out of this, Carice.” Her brother gave her a very clear Stop meddling look.
“But you do. You fought for her, didn’t you? That’s why you’re bruised and have swollen knuckles.”
He squeezed her palm in a silent threat: Leave it alone.
She sent him an answering smile. Make me.
Their silent argument was interrupted when Killian led her to the table directly below the dais where they were invited to dine. He helped her to sit down, and Lady Taryn joined Carice on the opposite side. The woman smiled at her and said, “I am glad you arrived safely.”
“So am I. It was not easy to escape my father.” Carice turned back to Killian, and the expression on his face had darkened. He knew, as she did, that Brodie would never give up. He wanted his only daughter to be queen of all éireann—no matter what the cost might be.
Never, she swore to herself. She would rather be dead than allow the High King to claim her. Not only because Rory ó Connor was a brutal man, but because she did not want to spend her last months wedded to a monster.
Although she ought to feel safer at Laochre, she could not relinquish the fear that her freedom would soon be at an end.
Even surrounded by so many MacEgans, her father and the king’s men might find her and force her to return with them.
She needed to leave quickly—and she desperately wished that Raine were here to escort her.
It was a foolish thought. He had no interest in protecting her—only in serving his king. Even if he did come to Laochre, she doubted if he could travel west with her.
Taryn passed over a trencher of roasted meats and cheeses, and Carice chose some food for herself. She was exhausted from the journey, hardly able to eat at all, but she needed to keep up what little strength she had left.
Her mind blurred as she conversed with her brother and Lady Taryn about the High King. Though Killian had promised not to do anything dangerous, she had her doubts. He was watching over Taryn as if he intended to fight for her—and the young woman seemed uneasy about it.
Seeing them together reminded her of Raine.
He had looked at her that way on the night he had slept beside her.
Although they were hardly more than strangers, she had felt the tangible attraction to him.
She'd been warm and safe in his bed, and despite all the reasons it was wrong, she had enjoyed sleeping with his hard body against hers.
The wistful thought caught at her heart. I want to see him again.
Never in her life had any man awakened her to such feelings. And if she only had a few months remaining, she wanted to seize every last moment she could.
Her head spun with dizziness, and she gripped the table to keep from fainting, taking slow, deep breaths. Although she no longer had the stomach cramps she’d experienced before, the weakness had not diminished.
The moments she’d spent with Raine had taunted her with unfulfilled hopes.
She had no right to let herself imagine a future with any man, much less a Norman soldier.
By next winter, she would likely be dead.
It was a reality she didn’t want to face, but it was inevitable.
It was better that they had parted ways, for it avoided heartache.
There was no future for her—but there could be for her brother and Lady Taryn.
Was it not better to spend her last few months bringing joy to others? Carice saw an opportunity to bring her brother happiness. He needed a woman to love him for the man he was. And she had no qualms about pushing Lady Taryn and him together.
When Taryn was about to leave, Carice took her by the hand. “Don’t go yet. I would like to stay and talk with you a while.” She turned to Killian. “Give us a few moments alone, won’t you?”
If all went to plan, her brother would spend the next few days alone with Taryn. A little scheming wasn’t a bad thing, so long as it brought happiness to others. With any luck, after she was gone, they would have each other.