Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dallan followed Diarmidand Brona up the nearby staircase to her quarters as his thoughts spiraled downwards. Morda expected him in Nás tomorrow, and he had planned to speak with Niamh well before leaving. He knew why Niamh had left, he knew what she feared, he knew what went wrong.
And, most importantly, he knew she still loved him. He hoped that was enough to convince her to go.
Since Morda visited him in Caiseal, requesting his return to Laigin and his oath as second, Dallan had been pulled in two. Like Eva, he cared deeply about their family back home. He had been raised with the understanding that one day he could rule of one of the nine kingdoms, that he would be responsible for the safety and welfare of his people. It was not a duty he took lightly.
Yet, Brian and his band of warriors now relied upon Dallan as well. He swore an oath of loyalty to join the Fianna, not imagining he’d be recalled to Laigin anytime soon. Eva, Finn, and all his closest friends needed him here.
It had seemed an impossible decision until Niamh reappeared in his life. Once he’d gotten past his anger at the pain she’d caused him, Dallan knew she held the answer he sought. If she would have him, he would stay—it was as simple as that. She had never wanted to be a queen, and now that he knew she worried over providing an heir, the decision was easier than ever.
Aye, he felt badly that he hadn’t known before Morda exacted his oath. But he would explain everything to Niamh. Surely, she would understand.
Brona’s terse farewell to them at her door snapped Dallan back to his current dilemma. He needed to speak with Niamh as soon as possible.
Dallan didn’t have time to take a breath before Diarmid spoke.
“You weren’t at the feast last night,” his friend observed, looking at him pointedly.
“So?”
“Neither was Niamh.”
Even worried as he was, Dallan couldn’t suppress a grin at the thoughts that followed that statement. He could still hear the sounds she made, pressed against the cool stone, her breasts bouncing as he made love to her.
“Am I to assume matters have been…resolved?” Diarmid pressed when Dallan didn’t answer immediately.
“Aye.” Dallan’s heart swelled as he remembered that she now wore his ring for good reason. “She finally agreed to marry me.”
Diarmid’s grin—the one notorious for charming even the most chaste ladies—lit up the dim corridor. He pulled Dallan into a quick but mighty embrace, smacking him hard on the back. “Congratulations, my friend.”
“Warming up to marriage are you?” Dallan teased him.
“Yours, aye. I cannot be confined to one woman for the rest of my days, no matter how skillful she may be.”
“When a woman finally does steal your heart, I’ll take great joy in reminding you of what you just said.”
Diarmid shook his head emphatically. “Impossible,” he stated, as though falling in love were something he could control or predict.
“That’s a bold challenge to fate, if you ask me.”
“It’s a simple fact,” Diarmid replied. “I give my heart to every woman I take to bed. How could she steal something I already gave her?”
Dallan could only smile at his friend’s ridiculous logic. The woman who tamed Diarmid would need to be a force of nature. If indeed he could be tamed at all.
“Do you think Brian will come tonight?” Dallan ventured.
As Diarmid was Cormac’s brother, he may know something that Dallan did not. And anything Dallan learned could only help him right now. Aye, he was consumed with joy over his betrothal to Niamh—provided she still wanted to marry him after discovering his commitment to Morda. But he was also wracked with guilt over having to tell Brian that he had sworn to his uncle’s service after spending so short a time as one of the Fianna. That Morda and Brian both knew that Dallan would have to break one of his vows didn’t lessen the pain of delivering such news.
Dallan’s hopes sank when Diarmid shook his head once. “No. He’ll come first thing in the morn I’d wager. Can’t wait to tell him, eh?”
If only that were the most important thing he needed to tell Brian. “Something like that.”
They settled into a comfortable silence, Dallan bracing himself for a long night of waiting.
*
Evening threatened bythe time Niamh left the solar, the sun’s rays stretching toward the horizon yet not quite breaking it. How it had taken nearly a day to sort out Brona and Catrin’s tales and get a full accounting, Niamh couldn’t begin to fathom. She hadn’t yet had time to tell Máire, Alva, or her mother about her magical night with Dallan.
