“Go after her,” he whispered.
Finn turned to look at his companion. “The Ostwoman?”
Dallan’s lips flattened, his jaw tightening noticeably. “She’s no Ostwoman,” he growled. “She’s my sister.”
Chapter Two
Eva hurried outthe door—away from Brian, away from humiliation. As a hostage, Eva Nic Murrough, Princess of Laigin no longer existed, replaced instead by a nameless Ostman noble, the embodiment of King Sitric’s submission to the king. This was doubly ridiculous and humiliating, as she looked nothing like her Ostmen cousins and didn’t have a drop of foreign blood to her. Aye, her hair was a touch lighter than most natives of Éire, but nothing like the bright red and gold locks of her Ostmen relatives. Her cousin Astrid’s hair looked ready to catch fire at any moment.
Yet at every feast, at every public event, at every visit of every noble since she became Brian’s hostage, Eva was made to look like she’d been born offshore. So everyone could see that Sitric Silkbeard, an Ostman, had submitted to Brian Boru.
Her cousin, Astrid, had embroidered the hem of the deep blue apron dress with intricate knotwork, a blend of their two heritages. Her Aunt Gormla had sewn the red tunic, worn beneath the apron, specially for Eva for her visits to Dyflin. On her fifteenth birthday, nearly ten years ago now, Sitric had presented her with golden brooches, to wear with beads across her chest. Until her time as a hostage, it had been one of her favorite dresses, a symbol of love from those dearest to her.
Now, it pained her to wear it.
Though she’d only been at Cenn Cora for a sennight, Eva’s feet knew well the path down to Loch Derg. Branches and worn stones sent gentle pressure into the soles of her lightly slippered feet.
Eva wanted to be strong for her family, for her beloved cousins, for her brother. But with each passing day she felt her strength waning. It became harder and harder to look toward her future, if indeed she even had one. Eva’s spirits drifted steadily downward. Of late, the only way she could keep herself afloat was to stand at the water’s edge, watching the waves lap the stone-filled sand. She let her thoughts wander like the currents at her feet.
Emptiness consumed her. She stood on the lakeshore, a river of tears flowing into the vast expanse of water before her. Broken and alone, she poured her heartache into each wrenching breath she took.
She missed each one so terribly. The names and faces of those she’d loved and lost haunted her every waking moment.
Duncan. Her first betrothed. Five years past.
Oran.Her second betrothed. Three years past.
Sheeva.Her mother. Six months past.
Conn.Her father. Four months past.
There were those, too, who hadn’t left this world behind but were still lost all the same. She knew, deep in her weary bones, sheknewshe’d never see them again.
Gormla.Her aunt.
Sitric.Her cousin.
Astrid.Her cousin. Her dearest friend and confidante.
Every day she wandered alone to the shore to grieve. And every day she herself died a little more.
An owl hooted across the water. A second answered from just overhead. At least not everyone was alone.
Her heart faltered at that thought. She wasn’t exactly alone anymore, but she wasn’t certain her brother endangering his life on her behalf counted as any sort of victory. Brian had summoned her just before the feast to tell her all about her foolish brother’s bid for her freedom, at the cost of his own. She would do whatever was necessary to talk sense into him.
Yet there existed a small, selfish part of her that hoped he might have seen her leave and follow her down to the water. She hadn’t spoken with Dallan since their mother had died six months ago. It would raise her spirits immeasurably to spend time with him again.
The sound of footfalls on the path behind her brought a hitch to her breath. Had he come after all?
She turned, watching the path that emptied from the forest to the lakeshore, hardly able to breathe as she awaited her unexpected visitor.
Her short-lived hopes came crashing down when a stranger emerged.
It wasn’t Dallan.
It was the man who’d been staring at her shamelessly almost as soon as he’d entered the feasting hall. She’d scowled at him then, attempting to deter any forward ideas he might have, but even that hadn’t worked straightaway. Nevertheless, she scowled at him again as he approached, not trying in the least to hide her disappointment at his appearance.
He paused, regarding her as she glared at him menacingly, but only for a moment. Then he kept walking toward her across the shadowed clearing.
