Ansel did not answer.
Edric stood and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "I'll send ye huntin' soon, I swear it." His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the body on the ground. "We have much, much bigger game tae catch than this."
1
Maeve opened her eyes to pure darkness, wakened from troubled dreams of her father and bloodshed. She took a few deep, steadying breaths, then reached to the side to seek out the comfort of the man she loved. To her surprise, she found only a cold pillow at her side. She rolled over, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, and discovered she was alone in the bed.
Fear was her first instinct, honed from so many years of bad news being her closest follower. Instinctively, she reached for Tailfeather, her needle-thin sword which she kept by her bedside… then forced herself to relax. No. She was in Bruce Castle. She was home. She was safe.
Taking a breath to calm her racing heart, she pulled back the thick curtains that surrounded the bed. Bright moonlight flooded in and illuminated the room. There in the window she saw a silhouette that calmed her fear immediately. She slid out of bed and walked over to the tall, brooding figure, slipping her arms around his waist from behind.
"Love, ye made me worry," she said. "I woke and ye were gone."
Cailean turned in her embrace to face her, then put his arms around her as well, drawing her close. "Forgive me," he told her,pressing his lips to her forehead. "Though ye should ken better. I already swore tae ye that I'd never leave ye behind again."
She wriggled her arms free and reached up to touch his face, pulling him down into a kiss. They stood there for a moment and Maeve felt that all was right with the world.
When the kiss was over, Maeve let out a contented sigh. She looked up into his gray eyes, happy that they were together. "Why are ye awake?" she asked him. "There are still hours until trainin' begins. Were ye plagued by bad dreams as well?"
Cailean shook his head. "It isnae that. I just… I couldnae sleep. I've scarce been able tae since Lady McKenzie paid her visit and brought her news."
Understanding flooded Maeve, he was thinking of his sister, the girl he’d thought dead for decades could be alive and looking for him. She leaned against him, "Ye're thinkin' about Neala?"
"I am," Cailean agreed. "I ken there's nae solid proof as of yet, and it could all be a rumor that leads tae nothin', but… I ken in me heart that it's true. She'saliveout there somewhere, Maeve. Me sister. Another part of me family, the family I thought was gone forever. It burns me that I'm not out there lookin' for her right now."
"We'll find her," Maeve promised. "Alive or dead or otherwise, we'll get tae the bottom of this rumor. If Neala is alive, then we'll bring her home."
Cailean hugged her again, and Maeve's thoughts went to her own lost sister. She knew exactly where Nessa was, but in a way, she seemed even further away than Neala did. Was Nessa safe? Had their father taken out his loss on her? Or was she truly as cold as she seemed?
She sighed. It seemed now more likely that they'd find a lost princess brought back to life than the three O'Sullivan sisters reunited again.
"I ken we have men out there searchin' for her, but…" Cailean started, looking out of the window with a familiar undertone to his voice.
"Some of our best," Maeve reminded him, putting a hand on his cheek and drawing him back to face her. "And nae just men—Deirdre is with them, and she's proven herself more than enough. Without her, I'd have never gotten ye back, remember."
"I havenae forgotten, love. I just… I wish I could have joined them."
"I ken." Maeve smiled a little sadly. "But ye must rest, me love. Ye have a heavy burden on yer shoulders, nae matter how much I or Darren or the council are tryin' tae help ye with it. Ye cannae lead a rebellion and manage this overflowin' castle and all the refugees in and around us. There's much tae do and ye're bein' pulled apart."
"The burden on the queen is as heavy as the king's," Cailean reminded her. "I've seen how tirelessly ye're workin' with the people, especially the O'Sullivan refugees. It's exhaustin' ye as well. Nae matter how much we want tae pretend that everythin' is all right, we ken that somethin' has tae happen soon. It's been more than a month since our handfastin' and our redeclaration of the cause. The False King willnae remain quiet forever."
"Aye, and we must be ready when he comes. But we cannae dae that if we're fallin' asleep on her feet," Maeve told him firmly.
He laughed and kissed her again, this time more deeply. She felt a stirring within her, and her body responded in kind. When this kiss was over, she felt invigorated, alert, and she knew there was no way that she was getting back to sleep now.
"Shall we go back tae bed?" Cailean asked, his voice suggestive and not in the least indicative of sleep.
Maeve laughed. "Later tonight, me love, when our daily duties arenae drawin' ever closer. I swear it. But for now, I think I ken what will keep our minds and bodies occupied."
Cailean and Maeve stood opposite each other in the courtyard, and the early morning wind was their only companion. The sun still hadn't risen, and it would be at least a half hour before even the most dedicated of soldiers began to arrive for the morning training session.
As one, they both sped forward, their swords drawn, and fell immediately into an intricate, deadly dance. Their sparring no longer held back; they trusted each other fully, and their synchronized movements carried them through their stances with the ease and flow of water. As they fought, Cailean felt the weight and tension lifting from his shoulders, and he could tell that Maeve's mind was clearing, too.
She was still no match for him, not even nearly, but she was getting much better. He saw the sweat glistening on her skin and knew that her muscles must be burning, but she did not back down from his onslaught, even as he redoubled his efforts. He knew that she could never beat him like this, and so, when she had reached her limit, he stepped back to suggest a truce, though he did not let his guard down. Before he could, she let out a little cry and fell to the ground as though she had tripped.
Cailean instantly abandoned his stance, hurrying forward, sword limply by his side. "Maeve! Are ye all right? Did ye—?" He stopped as he saw the flash of silver in the now-rising sun that showed the dagger now pointing an inch from his stomach.
Maeve grinned. "I win."
