“Oh, did he?” Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Ewan would say that, wouldn’t he?”
“Does it work?” Trahern interrupted, a gleam in his eyes.
Liam frowned, staring at Morren’s hand. “Not yet. But I would like a honey cake or a sweet. If you have one.” He sent Morren a broad smile, and she couldn’t help but answer it.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any food with me.”
Trahern nodded to Liam. “You’d best go to the kitchens, lad. Practice your kissing on one of the maids, and perhaps you’ll get your honey cake.”
The young boy took the hint. Isabel leaned down and kissed his forehead before the lad scampered away. “Liam is my son,” the queen explained. “He’s being fostered with Bevan and Genevieve and is here to visit for the Samhain festivities.”
“You still celebrate the old ways?” Morren knew that many clans held onto the ancient traditions though most of the churches frowned upon it.
“I see no harm in celebrating with family and friends. Any excuse for food, drinking, and storytelling is welcome here.” Isabel’s gaze turned to Trahern in an unspoken hint.
“There is no greater bard than Trahern,” Morren said. “I’ve always loved his stories.”
Trahern appeared pleased at the compliment, and his eyes softened upon her. Morren’s gaze traveled to his mouth, remembering the feel of his lips upon hers.
Connor elbowed his brother, his grin lighthearted. “Liam’s right, you know. Kissing a woman is quite good for getting what you want.” With a knowing smile, he leaned down and kissed his wife Aileen. “If you know how to kiss. But you may be out of practice, Trahern.”
Her cheeks burned at the memory, and Connor didn’t miss her blush. “Or perhaps not.”
“Stop your teasing, Connor.” The queen swatted at him and offered, “Morren, if you’d like to escape their company, I’ll take you above stairs now.”
She followed the queen and a maid up the winding stairs and down a narrow corridor. The maid opened the door to the solar, and Isabel gestured for Morren to enter.
“Genevieve will join us, once she’s finished feeding Alanna,” Isabel said. She ordered the maid to bring a basin of warm water and a cleanléineand overdress. “She’ll want to hear about everything.”
“Everything?”
A secretive smile crossed the queen’s face. “Trahern has never brought a woman to Laochre before. You must mean a great deal to him.”
Morren shook her head. “No. We’re friends, nothing more.”
“He never took his eyes from you. Not even once,” Isabel pointed out. “It may be that you’re friends now, but perhaps later . . .”
“No.” Morren cut her off. “That’s all there is between us.” She decided to give the queen a shortened version of her story. “Our cashel was attacked, and Trahern’s betrothed wife Ciara was killed. I survived the attack, and I’ve promised to help identify the raiders. We think they were among theLochlannachwho dwell at Gall Tír, not far from here.”
Isabel frowned. “That can’t be true. The Hardrata tribe members are our allies. Patrick’s great uncle Tharand lived there, long ago. Their men have no reason to attack a settlement so far from here. Are you certain it’s them?”
Morren nodded. “Trahern can tell you more.”
Isabel seemed to sense her reluctance, and she offered, “My maid will help you dress for the meal. You are welcome here at Laochre, and if you’ve the need for anything, simply ask.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. After the queen had left, the maid helped her into the borrowed greenléineand overdress. Thankfully, the gown fit her better than the one Katla had given.
Morren sat down while the maid helped comb the tangles from her hair. The relaxing motion made her close her eyes for a moment. Trahern’s family had a boisterous air that made her feel welcome.
The door opened a few minutes later, and she saw the dark-haired healer Aileen standing there, with Trahern behind her. Morren couldn’t understand what they wanted, but when she saw the devastated expression on Aileen’s face, she knew.
Trahern had told the healer.
Morren looked away, her face crimson with shame. She didn’t want anyone scrutinizing her, nor had she wanted anyone else to know.
Aileen dismissed the maid, and Morren sent a hard look toward Trahern. Why had he told a stranger of her dishonor? There was no need for it. She’d healed well enough.
“I asked Aileen to come and look at you,” Trahern said. “I thought that after the birth—“
