Murphy lay on the floor of the carriage, taking up most of the room and oblivious to it. Clía’s multiple trunks were tucked in beside him, along with Ronan’s one trunk and small traveling bag. No matter how much training she would receive, she would never be able to pack like a warrior.
Ronan’s hand rested against the small of her back as they waited for Sárait and Kían. None of them had appreciated the last-minute notice of her departure. No one was ready to say goodbye.
“Are you okay?” Ronan asked, his voice low enough for Domhnall and Niamh not to hear. They were too busy arguing over something under their breaths to notice.
She leaned into him, coveting his warmth as snow fell around them. “I’m fine.”
Sárait and Kían’s running figures appeared at the main entrance.
“You’re late,” Niamh said.
“Our deepest apologies. Brecc needed me to secure the perimeter before I could leave,” Kían explained.
Clía waved the lateness off. “I’m glad you were able to get away at all. I couldn’t leave without seeing you all one last time.”
“You’re not dying, Clía. You’ll see us again soon,” Sárait said, her voice joking, but Clía could hear the bittersweet edge creeping in.
The corners of her lips turned up, but she couldn’t force a laugh. “Well, I’m sorry if I’m sad to be leaving you all. I take it back, then.”
“Gods help Ronan,” Sarait said with a smirk. “How long will he have to put up with your moods as you travel to Álainndore?”
“It’ll be an entertaining journey.” Ronan laughed.
Clía shoved his good arm. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”
“Not among friends,” he said, and she let her head fall against his shoulder to hide the way her heart warmed at the words.
“We need to be off,” the carriage driver said.
They couldn’t delay their exit any longer. They needed to begin the journey before the snow on the ground became a barrier.
She approached Kían first. “I hope to see you someday in Álainndore.”
Kían matched her smile with a grin of their own. “I’m sure Sárait and I can find an excuse to visit. Maybe a royal summons?”
She laughed. “I think I can make that happen.” Their friendship had been formed in the twilight of her time at Caisleán, but she would miss their wit and resilience.
Kían nodded. “Until the next adventure, then.”
“Until the next adventure.”
Clía turned to Niamh. With the light behind her, Niamh looked as godly as she had when they first met in the arena. Fierce and unbreakable.
“I’ll miss you.” Clía leaned forward and wrapped Niamh in a tight hug before she could argue. Instead of pushing her away, the warrior arms that Clía had once admired from afar wrapped around her.
“Don’t tell a soul, but I’ll miss you too,” Niamh whispered, and there was an unusual weight to her voice. “If you don’t write to me, I’ll travel all the way to Álainndore to kill you.”
A smile grew on Clía’s face, easing the pain that was growing beneath her ribs. Niamh was a wolf in the form of a woman, and she had never been gladder to know her. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
Sárait approached next. Her friend from Álainndore. Clía held her close.
“I hope you keep me updated on the latest fashions of court,” Sárait said as they pulled apart.
“Of course. You can’t be uninformed of the trends.”
“And keep me updated onyou. I want to hear all the gossip.” Her gaze drifted to Ronan, who was currently saying goodbyeto Kían. When it returned, Sárait’s face was shrouded in worry. “Be safe. On your journey and in your kingdom.”
“I will,” she whispered back, holding back the tears that threatened to fall as she embraced her friend one more time.
