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“It’s personal.”

“And I’m your wife.”

“So, you harbor no secrets then?”

A flush rose upon her cheeks at his challenge. A moment later, she swallowed. The sudden vulnerability of her expression made him kick himself.Stop being such a prick.

“I lied this morning … when I told you I didn’t know who my father was,” he said finally. “His name is Wynn Sablebane. Fern is my sister.”

Lara stilled. Her eyes grew large.

“You didn’t notice my reaction in Doure when we learned her name?” he asked.

“Aye,” she whispered. “You went as white as a shade.” Silence fell then, drawing out before Lara cleared her throat. “So, Fern didn’t know you’re her half-brother?”

He shook his head, even as something deep in his chest twisted. “She wasn’t overjoyed … if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Lara studied him, and he wished she wouldn’t. This conversation needed to end.

“How did you leave things?” she asked, her tone softening. Her sympathy made his gut clench. He didn’t need her kindness.

“She knows I exist,” he ground out. “Although, she wishes I didn’t.”

23: THE RIGHT PATH

“PREPARATIONS ARE TAKING longer than I thought.” Roth’s voice echoed through the lofty hall. “We won’t be ready till well after Gateway.”

“Your recruits should be improving by now, Captain.” Seated next to Lara, Alar leaned back in his carven chair, his gaze veiled. “And since the ironsmiths work late every night, your armory must be bristling.”

Roth shot the prince consort a glare before he shifted focus to Lara. “I suggest we delay this until the spring, My Queen,” he said, his tone clipped. “After the snows have come and gone. There’s less risk of the weather hindering us.”

“The weather is more of a problem for the Shee than us,” Alar responded. “It sounds to me, captain, as if you’re making excuses.”

Silence fell in the hall. It was mid-morning, two days after the handfasting. As usual, everyone had emptied out of this space so that the High Queen could hold her council in private. Only a couple of servants waited in the shadows by the doors leading to the entrance hall.

Lara exhaled sharply. Roth’s attitude frustrated her. He’d promised they’d be prepared to march soon, but was now having second thoughts. She wondered then if he was being deliberately obstructive. Did he still resent her for spurning his advances? “We can’t wait,” she replied. “The Shee certainly won’t.”

Indeed, they all remembered Fern Sablebane’s admission. The Shee would invade within the turn of a year. Lara had to make the first move.

Roth frowned. “But we—”

“Get the army ready, Captain,” she cut him off. “I’m counting on you.”

He stared back at her, his pale-blue eyes hardening. However, this time he held his tongue. Good. She didn’t want excuses. Alar was right. Roth had enlisted many more warriors from the villages around Loch Lethe and Strathnich Forest than they’d expected. Earlier that morning, she’d watched from the walls as they trained in the yard below. Meanwhile, the fug of smoke from the forges hung over Duncrag these days.

No, their army wouldn’t equal the number of wulvers—but ithadto be enough.

“The peace envoy hasn’t yet returned, My Queen,” Annis spoke up then, her voice shattering the brittle silence. The chief-counsellor’s round face was unusually strained this morning. “They should have sent word by now. Something is wrong.”

Shifting in her seat, Lara could feel Alar’s gaze on her, yet she deliberately avoided looking at him. He’d warned her she’d sent those druids and warriors to their deaths, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She didn’t want him to be right. “They have time, Annis,” she said finally. “We need to trust in them.”

“Without the support of the hill-tribes, taking The Uplands will be difficult,” Cailean reminded her.

“Difficult … but far from impossible,” Alar replied. “You have my army, remember?”

Cailean’s jaw tightened. “What if it’s not enough?”

“There’s also the issue of the Slew,” Gregor interjected gruffly. “You all seem to have forgotten that they’ve taken to straying from their burial grounds.”