Page 3 of The Sacred and the Tormented

The female wiped her hands on her apron. “Perhaps a little taste of home would do her some good. Have Lady Saoirse make a list of her mother’s favorite meals. Perhaps I can work something out.”

Arianna looked around the room, watching the volunteers flit between pots, stirring and adding ingredients before returning to chop or knead something else.

“I think you have your hands full with enough.”

The female waved her off. “Nonsense. If there’s something I can do to help, I’d like to. It’s not every day a High Lady resides in our presence.”

Never mind the fact that Brónach’s ambassador, Móirín’s High Lord, and their queen were there too.

Arianna shifted the boxes. “I’ll ask.”

The female beamed. “Off you go then. We don’t want that growing cold.”

Arianna pulled her hood up and wrapped her cloak around the boxes, then she darted back outside.

Her guards followed, ever her silent, watchful guardians as she moved through the dirt streets at a brisk pace.

Arianna veered toward the outskirts, squinting through the dark for a sign of her mate in the distance. He never went far, but having him out in the storm still made her uneasy.

A few candles flickered in various windows, but the world was mostly silent, as if the storm were a famous musician and had taken center stage and no one dared to interrupt.

Arianna sloshed through the puddles toward the single house that stood at the end of the short road.

Guards patrolled from a distance, all ready to defend their once lost High Lady. Candles illuminated every window. Saoirse never let them go out. Because the second The High Lady had been safe, she’d nearly lost her mind.

The first time had been violent, with her screaming and kicking and clawing at any who drew near. She’d almost gouged out a male’s eye, screaming for Niall to come fight her himself.

Thankfully, Arianna had been able to heal the guard, but as far as Eimear’s mind went, there was nothing to be done.

The healers claimed it was a normal result of isolation. They were confident, given enough space and time, the High Lady would make a full recovery. Their words gave Arianna hope for her mate as well.

Arianna padded up the stone stairs on silent feet. She didn’t knock and Saoirse came to the door quickly, cracking it open enough for her to slip inside. She knew her father’s guards didn’t like it, but it was better for everyone if they gave Eimear space.

Arianna’s presence never seemed to bother the female. Neither did Zylah’s or the healers’, so long as they were all female. After the incident with the guards, the only male who ever entered the space was Rion. The little house was a refuge of sorts, at least until they could figure out what to do with her.

Arianna didn’t know why she did it, but she’d made a habit of bringing Eimear and Saoirse breakfast. Zylah always brought lunch and dinner, though Zylah never lingered. Arianna still hadn’t gotten around to asking about their strainedrelationship. Not that it was any of her business. There were too many other things that required her attention anyway.

Saoirse and Arianna silently crossed the small living space and entered a second bedroom on the right. Saoirse gently closed the door, then pressed her back against it and sighed.

Arianna set the food on a small table and shrugged out of her cloak. She kept her voice to a hushed whisper. “Long night?”

Saoirse rubbed her temples. “She just fell asleep about an hour ago.” Arianna noted the bags under Saoirse’s eyes, then followed her gaze to the window. “How is he?”

Arianna plopped into the chair, feeling her own exhaustion wash through her. “He was up early.”

The two females had bonded over their loved one’s shared pain. Neither knew what to do aside from being present when they were needed. It never felt like enough.

“When do you think this ends?” Arianna asked.

Saoirse grabbed the kettle from the middle of the table and poured them both a cup before sinking a bag of tea leaves into each.

“When Niall is dead.” She handed one to Arianna and Arianna wrapped her fingers around the warming mug.

“What happens if the High Lord is involved too?”

“Then we take him out as well.”

“Do you think it’ll be that simple?”

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