by Amy Miles
Even with the hundreds of couples already enjoying the dance, I found a way to squeeze along the back wall and found a small nook to place myself well out of the way. It still gave me a decent view of the royal couple.
From this distance, I noted that the High King had aged far more than his painting let on. Perhaps the rumours of his failing health really were true. One could only hope.
Men, dressed in long flowing silver cloaks with a crimson and plum overlay, stepped to the railing of the balcony and raised long horns to their lips. I dug my fingers into my ears just before the bellowing call began and enjoyed the startled looks of those nearest to me. Their shock quickly turned to wonder and delight and I lost interest in watching them as Morrigan and Baylor rose from their thrones.
A hush fell over the vast room and the horn blasts faded away. The dancers quickly moved off the floor as two men marched down the centre of the room, rolling out a red carpet that led directly to the raised platform.
All heads turned to watch as a set of double doors near the back of the room spread wide to reveal a single man. Despite my better judgment, I too rose onto my toes to get a better view.
Prince Aed was dressed all in black, from his polished boots to the fitted waistcoat and combed hair. It was longer than I remembered, reaching nearly to his shoulders, and parted down the middle to reveal piercing brown eyes.
His approach was slow and deliberate, his gait hinting only slightly at the swagger he was known for. Now that he was no longer covered in blood and grime, it was easy to see just how much he had changed since leaving Eimear. His shoulders were broader, as were his arms and thighs. Living in the Hollow Lands had hardened him, made him a warrior. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he slowly mounted the four steps that led to his parents. Just before he reached them, he knelt and bowed his head. A rustle of silk instantly followed as every guest followed suit.
I swore as I struggled to get down low enough. My dress was too tight at the hip and waist to properly curtsey. Thankfully, the moment passed quickly. Aed reached up to kiss his father’s ring and then rose to embrace his mother.
Smiles were all around me, eyes wide with wonder, but mine narrowed in on the tension emanating between mother and son. Was I the only one not blinded by the splendor of it all to notice how forced this felt?
Maybe I was wrong about Aed. Maybe he really was here for more than a good time. I could only hope that meant he might be more open to my pleas for help.
As Aed took his seat on the left side of his father, the music resumed. I laughed as girls stumbled over their dresses to be the first to arrive back on the floor. Their eyes remained riveted on Aed instead of their partners as they twirled about.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” I turned at the sound of a woman’s voice over my shoulder as she spoke to her daughter. “You’re a Bannigan. You’ll be among the first to be presented to the prince.”
Presented? How could Ma not have told me that I’d have to be presented to the royals? Of course she wouldn’t tell me. If she had, she knew I would’ve never come.
I pressed my forehead into my hand. I couldn’t go up there and let the king get a good look at me. That would just be placing a bloody target on my back for him to aim at.
Deciding I’d have to find another way of finding aid for Seamus, I weaved through the crowd, calling my apologies as I made a path where there was none before. The wall quickly became my friend as I worked my way to the back of the room as the people continued to spill in through the front doors. Hardly anyone took notice of me as I searched for an exit. Their attention was too focused on Prince Aed, whose smile was plastered so expertly on his face that I wanted to gag at the hypocrisy of it.
My fingers traced the wallpaper, flitting from velvet to glossy silver. The design wasn’t too bad when you looked at a single symbol, but when you stepped back that pattern became nauseating.
“Sneaking off, are we?”
I whipped around and tumbled into the arms of the boy who spoke. His hands gripped my waist as I rose unsteadily.
“Oh! Hi, Carrick. You startled me.”
When he smiled, it stretched the skin of his cheeks and chin tight enough to easily see each pockmark on his face. I tried not to stare as I made an attempt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles on my dress so I wouldn’t hear Tris’ nickname, Crater Face Carrick, repeating in my mind.
“I didn’t think I’d see the likes of you in this place tonight.” He finally released his grasp on me. Although we grew up together in the same school I’d hardly consider him a close friend.
When I looked up, I discovered I was almost directly in line with the prince now.
“Are you okay, Taryn? Ya seem a bit out of sorts.”
“It’s a bit stuffy in here. I need some fresh air.”
Carrick laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. I blinked, shocked to find that he too had filled out since leaving school. If it weren’t for his blemished face, he wouldn’t be all that bad to look at.
“You think I’m going to buy that load of horse dung? I did go to school with ya since we were five, ya know? You never stuck around for anything you didn’t like and this”—he waved his arms around him in a tight circle—“is not you.”
“So? Why are you here?” I shot back, hoping to divert him.
His expression turned sour as he pointed past me and I noticed the dance floor no longer held swirling couples, but a long line of anxious girls. A bubbly white-blond-haired girl stood six people back from the prince, eager to find an opportunity to sneak up the line. “That’s my wee sis. Ma made me bring her.”
“Ah.” I nodded in understanding. “Looks like you’ll be needin’ some fresh air too.”
His eyes widened and then settled into a look of expectation that made me deeply uncomfortable.
“No, I didn’t mean you and I…it’s not like—bugger.” I shook my head and then just walked away.
A nasal cry broke through my thoughts as I retreated. “No, I swear. I am a Bell.”
His sister’s pleading didn’t seem to be changing anyone’s mind as they carried her off, bucking wildly as she reached out her hand towards the prince for mercy. Aed might not have known that she was a Mullan, but everyone else did.
“They’ve all gone insane,” I muttered as disorder reigned and the king rose to silence the room.
The crowd of people proved to be much thinner in the corner where the view was not ideal. I scanned the back wall, searching for an open window, a doorway, anything that could give me an escape. Name after name of eligible girls were called by a monotone voice belonging to a thin-faced man standing just to the side of the dais.
I nearly cried out with relief when I felt a cool breeze brush against my arm and noticed a tiny sliver of black that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the wall. “A secret exit. Very clever.”
“Taryn Brennan.”
I turned, surprised to hear my name called. The regal man holding the scroll looked over his spectacles at the next girl standing in line. Her face was a mask of excitement and confusion. He wriggled his finger at her and she rushed forward, nearly tripping over the frill of her long dress.
“Are you a Brennan?” His voice carried in the nearly silent room.
“No, sir,” she squeaked out. “My name is Maeve Browne. Ya just called her sisters before me.”
He glanced over at where Iona and Kyna stood on the sidelines. Their expressions were ones of horror as the entire room turned to look at them.
The announcer looked at the king. “Sire?”
“Proceed,” Queen Morrigan answered for him. Her expression was thunderous as she scanned the crowd, obviously searching for the girl who dared to stand up her son.
I laughed as my fingers caught on the door latch and I slipped out of the room and into the passage beyond. Free at last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AED
I TURNED MY FACE to the cool breeze filtering through the arch
ed windows beside me. Sweat clung to my lower back and forehead. The ballroom was stifling, in more ways than one, and I was glad to be free of it.
Moonlight dappled the hall ahead while flickering torch light lined the hall. This passage was rarely used, kept secret from all but my family and closest guards.
I hugged close to the wall as I searched for Taryn. The girl never ceased to amaze me. There were no signs of her passage. No sound to reveal her location, but I knew she was there. I saw her slip away from the great hall when she thought no one was looking.
The sound of a cracking branch reached me a moment before a light appeared from down the corridor. The light swung from a guard’s hand as he made his rounds. Pressing back against the wall, I waited for him to disappear into a passageway that led to my mother’s sitting room.
A soft blue glow spilled through an opening up ahead. That was where I suspected she had gone. Approaching the ledge, I peered down through tree limbs to the grass below and saw her sneaking away from the wall.
Her hair was darker than most other girls, an array of deep blonds and browns woven at the top of her head. Her dress was a perfect match for her stunning teal eyes, made brighter by the dark scarring around her left eye. Her feet were bare against the thick blades of grass as she twirled around, her expression rapt with wonder. I understood that feeling. The first time I laid eyes on this glass house, I knew it was magical.
She tilted her head back to stare at the slanted windows nearly twenty feet overhead. Moonlight drifted down through the tangle of trees, a species of willow, ill-suited for our ever-shifting temperatures, yet within these walls of glass, it thrived. She trailed her fingers along the heavy fronds. Bright orange and white fish flitted about under the surface of a bubbling pond a few feet from her and I enjoyed the expression of wonderment that softened her features.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
I fought the urge to answer her, wanting to watch her a moment longer.
Hundreds of hanging pots tapered down from the roof, each one spilling over with white moonflowers, bluebells, yellow daisies, tiger lilies, and many other species of flowers. Apart from the turquoise river that flowed into the Bannow Sea from the distant shores of the Isle of Glass, no other colours could rival this secret garden for beauty.
I stepped onto a thick branch of the nearest tree and descended with ease. Leaping to the ground, I fell still to watch her. She dipped her toes into the edge of the water, creating tiny ripples in the surface.
“So beautiful.”
“I assure you that my mother feels the same way.”
The girl whirled around as I stepped out from behind the tree.
When I moved into the light I knew she recognized me. I could see it in the way her eyes narrowed with suspicion and distrust.
“I could have your head for trespassing,” I teased. “This is a sacred place.”
A blush rose in her cheeks, but she stared back with open defiance, daring me to sound the alarm. When I did not, she shrugged. “I was only lookin’ for an exit. I must have gotten lost, is all.”
“Lost?” I enjoyed her attempt to downplay her breaking and entering stunt. “The main gates should have been a rather obvious choice.”
She stepped back from the pool. “Being obvious is boring.”
“Indeed.”
Leaning back against the tree, I crossed one leg over the other. The buckles of my polished boots glistened in the moonlight overhead, catching her eye.
“I’m intrigued as to how you came to be in this hall in the first place. There are only two entrances to this part of the castle. One of them happens to reside not far from my personal chambers.” I paused for effect, enjoying the heat that made her pale skin bloom with red. “It would not be the first time I caught a girl sneaking into my room.”
“What a shocker,” she snorted, “but ya won’t be finding the likes of me there.”
The material of her dress pulled taut when she crossed her arms and my gaze shifted to the charred claw marks. Besides the obvious wounds on her face, there were other markings along her shoulder, chest, and arms. While many of these marks were fresh, the ones on her face were far too advanced in their healing to have been from the day before. The battle at the docks was not her first run-in with a Lorcan.
“You implied yesterday that my father was to blame for your scars.”
She nodded but said nothing. I could feel her weighing my words, trying to determine my intent.
“Why would you claim such a thing?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
I stepped closer to her and watched as she tensed. It was a natural fight or flight reaction I had seen in men, but never among girls her age. Whoever trained her to rely on her instincts had done a fine job.
“That must be quite a story. How does it end?”
Her gaze shifted onto my hair before it fell to my face. I remained still as her silent observation flitted over my jaw and then to my lips before finally rising to meet my eyes. I didn’t shy away from her inspection. Rather, I was amused by it, which only seemed to annoy her even more.
She gritted her teeth and waved a hand over her face. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I stared at her for a moment and then threw back my head in laughter. She was so intense that I might have believed her to be one of my soldiers if not for the dress that sat so well on her appealing curves.
To another man, her scars might have seemed hideous, but standing there, facing off with her open defiance, I found myself moved by her. The fire in her eyes and the strength in her stance told me she was a fighter, just like me.
Her sex was not meant to wield weapons. Perhaps that was a fact that my father discovered. My smile vanished. Could he really have been involved in this girl’s wounds? I didn’t want to consider it, but I knew better. My father had done terrible things before.
“Would you like to blame my father for why you stood me up earlier as well?”
She dragged out her silence for nearly a full minute before she responded. “It was for the best.”
“For you? Or for me?”
“Both.” She shifted her weight and looked beyond me. I wasn’t fooled by her casual attempt to look around. She was searching for an escape route.
“You seem to dislike me a great deal for someone who doesn’t know me.”
“I don’t take kindly to spoiled brats abandoning their posts to leave good men to die in your place at the Wall, just so you can win the heart of some wee lass.”
The disgust on her face felt like a knife to the heart. The judgment in her eyes was a pronouncement of the very guilt I felt these last few days. However, to hear them spat from her lips was brutal.
I felt anger, both at myself and this girl. She dared to speak so boldly to the heir of the throne, and yet she didn’t seem to fear me, or respect an ounce of the authority I held over her. What I saw staring back at me was an intense loathing.
“You shouldn’t speak about things you have no understanding in,” I warned.
“So I am wrong then?” She challenged.
I ground my back teeth. Damn her and the ease with which she got under my skin.
“You show no concern for your safety and well-being. That much is obvious”—I motioned to her visible scars—“but what about your family? Use some common sense, lass. You are in my home. These walls have ears and they are not as forgiving as I am.”
Her eyes darkened with anger and she took a step towards me. “Forgiving? So speaking the truth is now something I’m to be forgiven for then? To hell with you and your family. I want no part of it.”
She turned to go.
“Taryn, stop.”
It was not a command, so much as a plea. I couldn’t let her leave. Not like that.
“You know my name?” she whispered.
“You were the only girl who dared to stand me up. It wasn’t hard to figure it out.”
She turned and crossed her arms over her che
st. “Fair enough.”
I couldn’t help but notice she was quite stunning in a fierce sort of way.
“So you know my name. Good on ya.”
Not to be so easily dismissed, I went on. “I actually know a great deal about you. You are passionate, willing to sacrifice for those beliefs and you are fearless. I admire those traits in a woman.”
“You can take your bloody admiration and shove it up your arse. I want no part of ya, Prince Aed. I just want to be left alone.”
“Then why did you come?” I called when she started to turn her back on me again.
She took several deep breaths before she turned back to look at me. When she did, she couldn’t meet my gaze.
“I wanted to see you.”
I shot up an eyebrow.
“Not like that,” she said, rolling her beautiful eyes at me. “I need your help,” she muttered.
That was the last thing I expected to hear from her. “You’re joking.”
“No.” She ran her hands through her hair, snagging her finger in the ribbon braided through the dark blond strands. She yanked it free and tossed the ribbon aside. “I’ve got a problem I can’t solve on my own.”
“I’m listening,” I said, keenly interested in what her problem might be.
“There’s a man. He’s ill.”
The sword hilt at my side clinked against my crest ring when I placed my hands on my hips. A twinge of jealousy settled into my chest. “Do I look like a healer to you?”
“Of course not,” she snapped and I fell silent. She sure was a feisty one. “That’s the problem. I canna take him to a healer.”
I moved closer to her. “And why is that?” I could think of no reason someone couldn’t seek out the care of a healer.
She drilled me with her gaze. “It’s complicated, alright? I used the last of the herbs you gave me on him, but he’ll die without more. So will ya help me or no?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”