“No apology needed. I’m afraid I was not paying attention.” She straightened her skirts, and Ronan found himself following the motion with his eyes. While he had seen her before, he hadn’tlooked. His job was to protect his prince. Now that he was on his own, he could see how the pink of her dress would have perfectly matched the blush of her cheeks—had she not been so pale.
She met his gaze head on. “I’m sorry if this is too blunt, but aren’t you one of Domhnall’s guards? Shouldn’t you be with your prince?”
“I was on my way to him. He had asked for a meeting and requested my presence, and I’m afraid I’m already running behind. If you’ll excuse me, Princess.” He motioned to go past her, but she didn’t move out of his way. Instead, she gave him a look he couldn’t interpret.
Before he could try to decipher it, he was distracted by afluttering movement. A small, furry creature hid behind the princess’s skirts. He cleared his throat and took a tiny step back. “Is that a dobhar-chú?”
“I call him Murphy. Speaking of which, what’s your name?” the princess continued before he could comment on the tiny murderous thing that followed her like a lost puppy. “I can’t keep calling you ‘that one warrior’ in my head. It doesn’t have a good ring to it.”
“Captain Ronan Ó Faoláin.” He answered before he could think, before he could wonder why she was thinking of him in the first place.
“Captain Ó Faoláin.” She tested the name, weighing it on her lips. “I believe we are late to a meeting.”
“We?”
“I’m coming with you. There must be something of concern if Prince Domhnall is meeting in the Álainndoran war room—which is the only room I can imagine you would be headed to in the eastern wing—and as the Álainndoran princess, I feel I should be involved.”
Ronan didn’t know what to make of the princess’s statement.
“Your Highness, I don’t think—”
“Don’t try to convince me otherwise. You’ll learn rather quickly how useless that is.” She turned to walk down the hall, her golden hair cascading down her back, Murphy trotting behind her. When Ronan didn’t follow, she called back to him. “Come now, we must make haste. After all, there’s a difference between fashionably late and just plain rude.”
***
RONAN WALKED INTO THE ROOM TO SEE THE MEETING HADalready begun. His arrival was greeted with a surprised look from the prince, most likely because the princess followed on his heels.
Princess Clíodhna, to her credit, acted as if it had always been the plan for her to attend this meeting. While Ronan paused after entering, she kept walking and quickly approached the table in the center of the room. A man was already sitting at the head, but he stood aside to allow the princess to sit. Murphy was quick to follow, curling at her feet with his tail tucked under his chin. If anyone was surprised to see the two additional guests, they didn’t mention it.
The room itself appeared rarely used. There was no dust to be found—that wasn’t a surprise; this was Álainndore after all—but the books on the shelves were in pristine condition, the spines showing no signs of having been opened. The table was newly polished, with no signs of wear, and Ronan could see no scratch marks on the wooden floor beneath them. The two oversize chairs tucked into the corner looked as though they’d never been sat in and had cushions that were precisely fluffed. It was exactly as everything else in the Álainndoran palace: perfect.
Princess Clíodhna nodded at the older man who had given his seat to her. His face was stern, but there were soft crinkles around his eyes as he looked at the princess. If Ronan had to guess, he would assume this was Chief Ó Connor. He had seen the man standing behind the royal family when they arrived.
There were three other warriors in the room with them: Commander Derval, wearing Scáilca’s deep maroon, and two Álainndoran men in their kingdom’s colors of green and gold.The king and queen of Álainndore were not in attendance, but Domhnall had warned Ronan that might be the case. Apparently it was too much effort to attend meetings about their kingdom’s future themselves.
“Princess Clíodhna, we weren’t expecting you,” Domhnall finally said. He looked a bit shaken as he stood at the foot of the table opposite her.
“I’m glad I was able to come, and I apologize for my and Captain Ó Faoláin’s delay. You may begin.” Her voice held such confidence that Ronan felt the urge to follow its command.
“I assume the king and queen will not be attending?” Domhnall looked to Ó Connor.
“They have other matters to attend to,” the chief replied. “I am here in their stead.”
Domhnall nodded. “I had hoped to discuss with them the potential threat of Tinelann and Ionróir. Several townspeople from our northeastern villages have reported movement near the Diamhair Mountains. This could be Ionróirans, like I mentioned earlier, farther inland than we’ve ever seen. Or it could be Tinelann themselves, breaking the treaty. I wished to see if your chief of war, Chief Barra, had heard word of any potential treaty breaches on your side of the Diamhairs.”
“Chief Barra is dead.”
Ó Connor’s solemn words echoed through the room. It was Clíodhna who was the first to break through the shock that had silenced the group.
“How?”
“It’s unclear. His body was found this morning, in an alley in Bailetara. The king and queen will be ordering an investigation.Until his cause of death is determined and a suitable replacement is found, I will be discussing this matter with you in his place. While I might be chief of the coffers, I am a curadh. My military background ought to still be of use.” Ó Connor said the last a bit wryly.
Ronan hadn’t realized the Álainndoran chief—or any of the high-ranking Álainndorans, for that matter—had trained at Caisleán Cósta. The title of curadh was given only to those who had completed the full year of rigorous training there and proved themselves in battle. It was an honor, one that promised respect.
He had always wondered if he might be able to earn it.
“Of course. And I give you my condolences,” Domhnall said. There was a pause, and Ronan watched Domhnall calculate the best way to move forward. Decide what to reveal. “Your situation isn’t unfamiliar to us. The prior captain of my guard was found dead only four days ago.” Ronan straightened his back as several eyes drifted toward him. He had already known what had happened to his predecessor, and about the inconclusive investigation that occurred after. However, hearing it again was a sobering reminder of how he’d come into his position. And the danger of it.
