The door shut with a thud behind them, shrouding them in darkness. For a moment, Ronan wondered if he’d made a dangerous mistake.
There was a click as Kordislaen lit a lantern, illuminating them once more. Shelves of drawers lined one wall, and maps the other. Ronan drew closer, seeing the lines marking Scáilca, Álainndore, and Tinelann in the north, and Liricnoc and Oileánster in the south.
“Despite that unfortunate outburst, you’ve excelled here,” Kordislaen said, his fingers trailing over one of the drawers. “You understand the obligation to do what’s best for Inismian. You share in my ambitions. It’s why I trust that what I say here won’t leave this room.”
Despite everything, Ronan’s chest still tightened at the praise.
He pressed his nails into his palms, the sharp pain pulling him back.
When Kordislaen didn’t continue, Ronan gave him a subtle nod.
The general smiled, eyes sharp in the lantern light. Calculating. “I’m leaving Caisleán, and I hope you will join me.”
It wasn’t what he expected to hear.
He didn’t know what he expected.
“Where are you going?”
“Your conversation with Princess Clíodhna didn’t go well last night, did it?” Kordislaen’s voice was as soft as Ronan had ever heard it. The look on his face was almost one of understanding. “I’m sorry that happened. Perhaps it’s for the best. She didn’t realize what it meant to have your love. Your loyalty. Not if she threw you aside so easily.”
Ronan’s fingers yearned to curl around the hilt of his sword. He was alone with Kordislaen. No witnesses.
He stayed still. He stayed silent.
“And soon the prince will be overtaken by his engagement to Morrigan. I had already been worried with how little I saw you two interact recently—you might not have said anything to me, but I know that friendship meant a lot to you. Between the war and a royal wedding to prepare for, I imagine he will have much to do. Where will that leave you?”
Alone, the shadows whispered in his ear.Again.
“Brushed aside like you don’t matter.” Kordislaen shook his head. “I’venever left you alone. I know I wasn’t there, necessarily, but I was always watching, soproudof what you were becoming. Now, I could offer you riches. Glory. And I’m sure for others, that might entice. But you’re a good man—such superficial things would mean nothing to you. And so, I offer this instead: a chance to show them how wrong they were. A chance to prove me right for saving you that day.”
Ronan met the general’s hardened gaze. The light flickered over his face, casting him half in shadow, half in flame.
“I’ll go with you.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Clía, Niamh, and Murphy reached the infirmary, the healer who first saved Sárait was standing by her bed. Kían sat next to Sárait’s limp form. Her skin lacked all warmth and signs of life.
“Princess Clíodhna.” The healer turned to face her. “Kordislaen wants you out of the castle.”
Clía stood in the entryway. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The healer offered her a smile. “I only said that he wanted you gone, nothing else. He’s a Scáilcan general, butIam a Draoi. I answer to the Treibh Anam. Besides, Commander Ó Dálaigh was a good man, and you brought his body back home to us—most warriors wouldn’t have. In the shadow of war, all masks are lifted. Loyalty is earned,” she added. “Some people would do well to remember that.”
A lump had formed in Clía’s throat. “Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you four alone. Let me know if anything changes with Sárait.”
“Kían, is everything all right?” Clía asked, going to their side.
They gripped Sárait’s hand firmly in their own, eyes intent on the joining of their fingers. “No one has been able to figure out what poison was used yet. Healer Ó Scanniall said that theycan’t afford to keep giving her cneasú extract. They need to save it for someone who has a better chance at recovering.”
Niamh’s eyes narrowed. “I thought they said she would recover as long as she had the antidote.”
“They don’t expect to be able to find one. Not without knowing the poison,” they whispered. “And even if they did, who knows what the poison has done to her.”
Kían’s words fell over Clía, a blow she couldn’t dodge.
