He lifted Camhaoir, and the candlelight reflected off the blessed gem in the hilt. Ronan and Clía were doused in mirrored gold flame. “I don’t think it was coincidence that you stumbled upon the crystal. Tinelann had been searching those mountains long before we arrived. What if the reason they didn’t discover the jewel was because Ríoghain didn’t want them to find it?”
Clía’s eyes widened.
“Ríoghain took the stone away from High King Mael to prevent him from conquering Inismian. Maybe they let you find it for the same reason.”
“And they wantedmeto?” Clía was still learning how to hold her sword when she entered that cave.
There was a glimmer in Ronan’s eyes. “Maybe Ríoghain saw the same potential in you that I did.”
The compliment sent a rush of warmth through Clía, but she tried to stay focused. “Do you think the other lost gifts are hidden as well?”
Tadhg’s magic harp and Orlaith’s net hadn’t been seen in decades, if not longer. Based on the myths, they should be far less dangerous than Ríoghain’s Jewel, but a treasure of the gods was still an item of immense power.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that this crystal needs to be protected. No one else can find out. If it falls into the wrong hands, if evenrumorsof such a power spread... We don’t need more causes for war.” By the grim set of his brow, she knew they both understood the dangers.
Keeping secrets was no challenge for her. The words she needed to say still clawed for purchase in her throat.
She looked around his room, scanning the chaos. “Where’s your cloak?”
He sent her a curious look, pulling it out from under another pile of books. She took it from him, her hands brushing against him as she draped it over his shoulders.
“It’s a little warm in here for this,” he said, but he went still as she took the pin out of her pocket. “Is that...?”
She tugged on the edges of his cloak, placing them properly. “It is. Captain Ronan Ó Faoláin, you have officially completed your Caisleán Cósta training.”
He lifted his chin, staring straight across the room as she pinned the gold cloak pin in place.
She watched his chest rise with a big breath. “You deserve this. More than anyone else I know. You fought and bled for your kingdom, for Inismian. You rose to every challenge and proved yourself a warrior worthy of Caisleán. A true curadh.”
When his gaze returned to her, it was with an intensity she couldn’t handle. She adjusted the pin.
“Countless people wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for you. Our kingdoms would be under even greater threat.” Unspoken words formed a lump in her throat. There was more she wantedto say—hadto say, but she didn’t know where to begin. “Inismian owes you it’s gratitude.Iowe you my gratitude.”
He gently took her wrist.
“Congratulations,” she whispered.
“Clíodhna—”
“I’m returning to Álainndore.” The words tumbled out unceremoniously, and she couldn’t take them back.
He paused for a moment. Took a deep breath. “You mean now. Not in a few days.”
Clía nodded. For a second, she thought she saw his face drop. “I guess I can’t ask you to stay longer.”
“I need to be with my people.” Her voice was shallow and frail. She gave up hope of trying to fix it. This was Ronan. He knew her better than anyone, and if she were to be her true self in front of anyone, it was him. “If this war continues, I could lose so much.Theycould lose so much.”
“I understand. I wish we weren’t torn between these choices, but I know you have to prioritize your kingdom.” For a moment, he looked away, jaw tight as he struggled with something. When he turned back, she could see a decision in his eyes. He took a step closer to her. “I’ll miss you.”
Clía let her hand fall and wrap around his. His eyes followed the movement, as if tracing over the image of their fingers intertwined. Her heart yearned to ask him—tobeghim to come with her, but her fear kept her trapped. “I’ll miss you too.”
Amber eyes met hers and heat lit up the air around them. “I’m guessing you might not find much time to visit Scáilca in between all your war planning.” His head tilted ever closer toward hers.
“I’m not sure.” She breathed in the shrinking space between their lips.
“Then, if this is the end, let us enjoy this moment.”
They met in a slow cascade of desire and longing. Everything faded into shadows except the feel of his skin on hers, and their tangled breath mingling between kisses. Their embrace was spring warmth melting away cold snow. It was hopeful and sweet, but desperate. As if daring the world to try to tear them apart.
