“Dallan?”
He looked back at Cormac questioningly. “Aye?”
“Be sure Niamh knows not to take Brona at her word again. That woman cannot be trusted.”
“Do you really think she could cause that much trouble?”
“No,” Cormac admitted, “but I’ve also learned never to underestimate a queen at risk of losing her throne.”
Dallan nodded his understanding. As he walked from the solar to the feasting hall, he sorted through the myriad thoughts and feelings he had on the matter. He had barely time enough to decide what to say to Niamh when he’d reached her table.
She sat in the warm light of flickering candles and fading sun, her golden hair held back in one long braid. Máire, across from her, said something that made Niamh explode into laughter.
Dallan felt a pull deep in his chest as he watched her face light up, her lips curve into a smile. He still wanted to be the one that made her laugh. In spite of all of it, he still felt as drawn to her as he had that day in the courtyard at Nás so long ago.
Niamh looked up, her mirthful gaze connecting with his own.
She took his breath away.
And she knew it, for her expression sobered after she regarded him for a moment.
Dallan strode over to the table, never taking his eyes off her. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Máire and Líadan went quiet. Niamh stood and followed Dallan to one of the alcoves along the edge of the room, built for precisely such a use.
Dallan had planned what he would say—something reasonable, understanding. But when she stepped closer and he caught the scent of lavender, ofher, all sense fled him.
“You lied to me,” he whispered. “You promised you’d rest.”
“I’m sorry,” she answered softly. “Brona intercepted me on the way to my quarters.”
“She also claimed it was your idea to leave without a guard.”
“What!” Niamh’s cry drew the attention of the table nearby. She smiled at them, waving them away. “I was the one who offered to go find a guard. I told her it was a bad idea.”
“Then why did you go?” He didn’t even try to mask his concern. “What if another army had come?”
Niamh looked at her feet, shifting her weight. “Brona told me they had permission to go. It didn’t make sense to me, but I went along with it because she offered to let me search through my cottage. I know that Cormac’s been letting people go out to find their belongings with guards, but I’ve been so busy in the infirmary and—”
Dallan took her hands in his, halting her explanation. He knew why she would agree to take such a risk, given the opportunity to search the wreckage of her cottage. She’d be looking for those supplies she needed.
“Did you find them?” he asked gently.
“No. There was nothing left.”
He squeezed her hands, the warmth of her touch sending chills down his arms. He swallowed back the urge to pull her in for a kiss. “A merchant came through Caiseal just before we left for Thurles. He may still be there. I can ask Cormac about taking you to see him.”
Her grey eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really. We can leave tomorrow, if he agrees.” Lord help him, how could he possibly be falling for her all over again?
“I—” she began, stopping nearly as soon as she’d started.
“You can tell me, Niamh,” he whispered.
And regretted it instantly. She looked about ready to cry again.
“No,” she breathed, “that’s just it. I can’t tell you. I was going to say that I owe you, but I know what you would ask, and I can’t give it to you.”
