Page 45 of The Queen and the Half-blood
Despite herself, Lara swallowed a smile. She’d missed Gil while she’d been on campaign. Like his sister, he didn’t attempt to flatter or ingratiate himself. His bluntness was refreshing. She’d also missed paying visits to his archive and learning about the things he’d uncovered for her.
“So, how does it feel to travel through the stones?” Alar asked then.
“Painful,” Gil replied. “It’s like pushing through water at first … and then the air starts to crush you.”
“Not an easy trip, then?”
Gil huffed a laugh. “Not when your eyeballs feel like they’re about to explode.”
As the two men continued their discussion, Lara’s attention shifted to the others at her table.
Torran was attempting to converse with Lyall, the bigger of the two wulver captains. The blond enforcer’s brow was furrowed as he listened to Lyall’s growled words. She was too far away to catch their conversation though.
The sight of Cailean’s second-in-command made her think of Mirren.
Her handmaid had been subdued ever since the blood-letting. She hadn’t spoken of Torran again, and Lara had wisely left the subject alone. These days, Mirren let Florie, Ani, and Lilith chatter away in the mornings and evenings while she went about her chores with a distracted air. Bree had also marked Mirren’s subdued mood, and tried to draw her out of it, with little success.
Something subtle had shifted between the High Queen and her handmaid ever since the eve of the blood-letting too. Lara had revealed more than she’d intended—Mirren knew that she too feared a man’s touch. They had something in common, yet it hadn’t brought them closer. Instead, it had driven a wedge between them. It was as if they shared a guilty secret, and the realization vexed Lara.
Neither of them had done anything wrong.
She was sorry Mirren was wary of her now, for her circle of friends was a tight one. She couldn’t afford to lose any, and ever since striking a deal with Alar, things hadn’t been the same between her, Bree, and Cailean. She caught both of them watching her sometimes, their gazes shadowed as if they worried what she’d do next.
Lara was still picking at her meal when Alar leaned close. “Will you take a walk with me on the walls after supper?”
Chin kicking up, she met his gaze. Her pulse quickened then. It was a good idea for them to talk privately before theirhandfasting, as they had things to discuss—nonetheless, she’d have preferred to retire early and enjoy her last night of freedom.
Pushing aside her reaction, she favored him with a tight smile. “Really … you want to risk it … after last time we took a stroll together?”
“I take it there aren’t any lurking Shee at Duncrag?”
She snorted. “You don’t have to worry about that … not here.”
“The Shee female who attacked you … what became of her?”
Lara gave him a probing look. His tone was light, yet she hadn’t forgotten his strange reaction when they’d interrogated the Shee warrior. “Fern Sablebane is still my captive.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “Locked away in the dungeon, eh?”
“No.” She shook her head. “We’ve put all the Shee captives to work … filling cesspits in the lower levels.”
“And you don’t worry they’ll try to escape?”
“We have them barricaded in a roundhouse with an iron door at night,” she assured him, “and guarded by druids while they work. That should be enough.”
“I’m happy to put some of my wulvers on guard duty as well.” He flashed her an easy smile she didn’t trust in the slightest. “If it helps?”
“That won’t be necessary. We have the situation well in hand.” She twisted then, beckoning to a white-clad figure who had been waiting in the shadows behind them—one of the counsellors, a young woman with curly flaxen hair. “Ruatha, do you have the document?”
“Aye, My Queen.” The counsellor stepped forward and withdrew a scroll from the basket she carried, handing it to Lara. She then reached back into the basket and produced a bottle of ink and a freshly sharpened quill.
Lara turned back to find Alar watching her. His smile had faded. “What’s this?”
“You promised to sign an agreement, remember?” Around them, the table went silent. “If we have any children, you assured me you shall step aside and allow our firstborn to rule after my death.”
His gaze hardened. “That’s right.”
He wouldn’t like her bringing this up with an audience, yet she’d done so deliberately. She needed witnesses when he signed. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t a lamb to be meekly led to slaughter.
