“Yes, as a matter of fact, you are.” Finn didn’t know what the hell he was thinking, but he couldn’t stop once he began. The words tumbled out like water from a broken dam. “Ididn’tviolate your sister. I love her. And I’m going to marry her.”
Dallan snorted, his face turning red. “I’m not letting you anywhere near her, and I’m certainly not agreeing to a betrothal. Not to someone like you.”
Broccan called out, and Diarmid took off for his turn through the woods.
Finn had had enough. “You see! This is why I didn’t tell you sooner! I wanted to so many times, to tell you how much I love her, how wonderful she is, but I knew—I knew—you’d never approve of the match. Of course, the niece of a king can’t marry the son of an Ostman farmer.”
All the fire left Dallan’s face, leaving behind a look of disappointment that crushed Finn. “You want to know the truth, Finn?”
Cormac returned. “Dallan! You’re up!”
Dallan took a step out of line toward Cormac, but turned around, pausing. “I would have given her to you, gladly, if you had asked me. I don’t care who you are or what your parents do for a living. If you make my sister happy, that’s enough for me. You’re the best man I know.”
“Dallan!”
“Or I thought you were.”
Finn watched as Dallan disappeared into the forest, followed by Cormac. Dallan’s words played over and over in his mind.I would have given her to you. You’re the best man I know.
Or I thought you were.
As Broccan returned to call Finn for his turn, the reality of his mistake settled deep in his gut.
Dallan may never forgive him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Two days later,Eva rode in the center of the men as they climbed the hillside to Caiseal, grateful that the king had agreed to her request. Much like Cenn Cora, the seat of the kings of Mumhain overlooked the nearby countryside from a lofty perch, ideal for defending. Instead of a forest, however, a patchwork blanket of fields covered the land around the fortress.
It had taken every ounce of self-control not to look at the men who rode around her. Now, as they reined in the horses and slowed to dismount, Eva knew she must finally face the object of her thoughts over the past days. Stepping down from her steady mare, she looked around, taking in her new surroundings.
With a will of their own, her eyes landed on Finn. Her chest ached as she watched him dismount, his sand-colored hair reminding her of all the nights they’d spent together on the shores of Loch Derg.
For the briefest moment, his eyes met hers. As soon as he registered her attention, he looked away.
If only Finn hated her. It would be so much easier to bear than the pain she saw on his face. She knew she’d hurt him.
She also knew that if she’d told him the truth—that Baethwasthe reason she called off the betrothal—that he would go after her cousin. She thought she had been ready, she truly believed she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. But that was when she thought he would be out of her life forever. Having him appear not just in her life, but ten paces from her quarters, served as a stark reminder of what was at stake. She no longer clung to such childish fantasies.
She had always known that no one she loved would be safe. She was a fool to have forgotten as much. At least she remembered before Finn had to pay for her poor decisions with his life.
Did she believe Finn could defeat Baeth? Aye, she thought he stood a fair chance.
Was she willing to wager his life on it? Never.
She couldn’t save Dallan from her cousin’s bloodlust. He had been born to it. But she could save Finn.
The rest of the men dismounted around them. After the Trial of Recovery, eleven men accompanied Cormac and Broccan to Caiseal to complete the most dangerous trial: the Trial of Bravery. As Eva understood it, the men had to charge to certain death without losing their courage. She thought that sounded more foolhardy than brave, but then again she was nofénnid. Perhaps there was more to it than that.
To her displeasure, Dallan had passed the trial. She wasn’t terribly surprised; she knew her brother had performed well at the trials thus far. But after Finn told her he was struggling, she’d held out hope that perhaps the problem would fix itself.
So now she had the pleasure of spending the day fretting over both her brotherandthe man she loved.
Brian and Dunla, his much younger, statuesque queen, descended a small staircase in the center of the courtyard. Dunla was Brian’s third wife, not even ten summers Eva’s senior. Quiet and biddable, with an easy smile and locks so dark a raven would be envious, she was the pinnacle of grace and poise. An easy choice for an aging king.
Dunla nodded kindly toward Eva, but Brian did not even acknowledge her. She could hardly be insulted. She was only a hostage, after all, and the bad blood between their families went back many years.
“Cormac, Broccan,” the king greeted his men, “it’s good to have you home. Come, we have much to discuss. Bring the men.”
