“Aye, milady?”
“Next time tell mebeforewe run out of stock.”
“Of course, milady.”
Eva turned away this time and couldn’t keep from wondering if the servants were conspiring to set her up for failure. Surely, they too, didn’t despise her on account of her family?
She strode across the courtyard, mainly grass with wagon ruts dug in, doing her best not to wrench an ankle on the uneven terrain. She wasn’t certain where to find Illadan. He had as much, or more, to do than Eva, and could be needed just about anywhere.
She first poked her head into the keep proper, where the royal family resided, but found no sign of him. She continued down the row of buildings, coming next to the tower from which men kept watch for invaders. Still no sign of Illadan, but the guards thought he might be in the hall.
Eva reached the great hall, placing her hand on the door and nearly pushing it open. She stilled when she heard the sounds within, not daring to intrude yet unable to leave.
Someone was playing the harp. Nay, she corrected herself, the most talented bard she’d ever heard was coaxing a heavenly melody from the harp. It sounded effortless, and yet she’d never heard such a complex pairing of chords.
Taking two steps to the side, Eva leaned against the stone wall, letting the music carry her away. She was not prepared at all for the song that started up as an accompaniment, the first of the twelve poems. The words she’d heard a hundred times. Her parents and relatives had hosted master bards and poets at every feast they held. Yet not one of them had sounded so compelling.
The singer’s deep, rich voice reminded her of the taste of honey in summer, coating her empty world in sweet warmth. He poured such emotion into his voice and his playing that Eva wondered if he had anything left after he finished a performance. It sounded as if his very spirit came to life in the music.
Realizing she’d lingered too long, Eva lifted herself off the wall, deciding she’d return when Illadan wasn’t busy listening to the most amazing performance she’d yet witnessed.
As she hurried away from the hall, she heard the door open behind her. Unable to contain her curiosity, she turned to see none other than Finn heading back down the hill with a small harp.
For the first time in months, Eva smiled.
All through dinner,Eva watched Dallan and Finn with feigned disinterest. Her heart ached every time Dallan laughed, which was often in the company of his new friend. He had the same smile as their father. Even his laugh held echoes of the man who’d been lost to them not so very long ago.
How could she convince him to leave? The last thing she wanted was one more person dying on her account. Yet it seemed so many were determined to do just that. Two engagements and one fallen father later, here she sat, making the best of a bad situation. At least as a hostage, she had thought, no one else would be in danger. Indeed, she might even be sparing someone else the trouble. She lifted a spoonful of thick stew partway to her mouth, deciding in the end she wasn’t all that hungry. Mayhap if she died of starvation her brother would finally give up this foolish quest of his.
After most had finished their meals and the servants cleared the tables, Illadan stood, silencing the room with his raised hand. “Finn,” he called, “sing us the tale of the seven trials.”
Finn moved toward the dais, sparing a quick smile for Eva as he took the bard’s seat near Illadan. Why it made her stomach flutter, she couldn’t say.
She also couldn’t say why, after having met him already, she suddenly noticed how well-muscled his arms were, especially for someone who had clearly spent more time playing the harp than fighting. She’d have to ask him about that the next time Dallan sent a message. Not his muscles, she reminded herself, just his training.
When he opened his mouth, pure magic followed. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d have said his father was one of the Fair Folk from the Otherworld, not from across the sea, so enchanting was his voice. Looking over the faces before her, Eva saw that she wasn’t the only one enraptured by his performance.
He told the tale of the seven trials that Finn mac Cumhail put his Fianna through to test their abilities, the same trials the men gathered would soon endure themselves. She wondered if Finn had been named for the hero of old. If so, his parents must have a touch of the sight, she mused. When it ended, Eva felt as though she’d lost something she couldn’t quite name, a feeling of completeness that had slipped away before she knew it was there.
First Illadan, followed abruptly by everyone else in the room, stood and applauded, shouting and whistling and begging for another tale. Eva couldn’t fault them; she could listen to him sing the entire night.
Two songs later, Illadan finally allowed Finn a reprieve, dismissing the men to rest before their training resumed the following morn.
Eva’s heart sank deeper in her chest as his final song drew to a close. She nodded to her brother, disappearing from the hall with haste to take up her post looking out over the moonlit lake.
Secretly hoping that for the second night in a row, she’d not be alone.
Chapter Six
She wasn’t eating.Finn had kept track of every bite she took during the course of dinner. Not because he felt the need to intrude upon her privacy, but because the night prior he realized everyone else had finished eating and she’d not touched her food. Not even one bite taken from her bread.
Tonight, she’d done better than nothing, he supposed, but he wasn’t satisfied with the paltry attempt she’d made. Three bites. That was all she’d taken of her dinner. Unless she was eating biscuits by the fistful in the morning, Finn didn’t know how she’d survive to the end of the week on so little nourishment. Nor, indeed, how she’d survived for so long already.
Which is why, halfway through the meal, he began carefully setting aside the most portable parts of his own dinner, wrapping them in the cloth meant for wiping one’s hands.
When he reached the lakeshore that Eva seemed to love so much, she spun to face him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she even looked happy to see him.
“What’s that?” she asked warily, eyeing the parcel of food he held.
