Page 119 of Across an Endless Sea

Not for the first time, I wonder if he can see her aura, or a muted expression of it. Then I dismiss the thought. If Lore could see even a fraction of Rose’s light, he’d never be able to look at her, and the damn redcap makes staring at Rose an art form.

“She’s used it on all of us,” Bree whispered. “That's why I can’t be scared of her. Even now, Ican’tbe afraid.”

Jaro’s face goes slack with shock, and he looks at Lore with dawning horror. “And why I… shit…”

“She has no idea,” I say, keeping a level head. “And it might be best to continue this discussion away from the Fomorian.”

Which raises the question of what do we do with him while we wait for the Goddess to undo his bond to Rose?

“He can’t go free,” Jaro begins. “He’s a walking security risk with an inbuilt ability to track Rose. No matter what he says, he could probably walk back to his father and promise to find her and be accepted right back into the fold.”

“Dungeons then?” Lore suggests. “With a less cosy room? I, for one, am in favour of something spiky.”

“Rose won’t like it if he’s mistreated,” Bree reminds him.

“I like you the best,” Caed mutters.

Bree smiles, but it’s not a friendly expression. “That’s a pity. I was planning to be the one to kill you in six months.”

Caed groans, head falling back. “Great, I take it back. You’re just as psycho as the rest.”

“Do you know how many people looked the other way when I was a whore? Even when I begged for freedom?” Bree asks conversationally. “You’re no better than Elatha, and I will personally make sure you suffer a nathair’s kiss.”

It’s a good threat. One I hope he follows up on. Because one thing is clear, none of us are offering Caed any forgiveness any time soon.

Jaro nods at Cailu and Elduin, both of whom are slack-jawed with shock.

“Find him a cell.”

The twins snap back to alertness with bows, then grab Caed beneath his arms, dragging him out of the room.

“Rose is the reason we can’t touch his ass,” I mutter, watching his back until he disappears and the doors snap shut, leaving the four of us alone. “She begged us not to fight when he scaled the wall after the ball. He couldn’t touch us either. It makes perfect sense.”

Jaro scratches his head. “We need to ask Kitarni to make sure, but I agree.”

“The púca is bolting,” Lore remarks, sounding bored.

Bree—who is indeed backing towards the door—freezes.

“Bricriu,” I prompt. “If you have experience with this kind of magic, we need to know.”

Given the haunted look in his eyes, I don’t think he should be alone right now.

“Whatever happened before,” Jaro adds, more gently. “This isRosewe’re talking about. She doesn’t have a malevolent bone in her body.”

The púca jerks, then nods once.

“She still has her human manners,” he whispers, words crackling. “That’s why she’s doing it accidentally. The magic requires eye contact and sweet words. Fae almost never use the word ‘please’, but Rose…”

The Nicnevin sprinkles it around like fae dust. It was hard enough to break her of thanking people—and she’s still not fully reformed. Getting her to stop asking nicely for anything and everything is going to be impossible.

Maybe we shouldn’t stop her. It will keep her enemies off-kilter.

“It takes a strong mind and years of practice to shield against it,” Bree continues. “Even then, if you’re distracted or taken off guard, you can slip up…”

His green eyes glaze over, and his nails dig into his arms.

“Bree.” Jaro’s tone is careful. “Rose, remember?”

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