Not a twitch of a muscle, not an audible breath. Seigine remained still as a stone. She knew without asking what he wanted. By her words she conceded. By her apology she showed her weakness. And now he wanted her eyes on him again for total submission.
Closing her eyes for an instant to gather her courage, she slowly raised her gaze to meet his dark expression. So fierce, it felt like a blow. His lips turned up at the corners.
“Mayhap I will keep ye close. I enjoy this battle of wills with ye.”
Brighit seethed inside, but she kept herself from tightening her jaw, instead keeping her eyes rounded in supplication. Was it truly only an act?
“Ye will do as I say, and I will keep Cathair’s murderer a secret.”
She glanced at the bulge in his trews. She would die before she allowed him to touch her, but he noticed her glance and laughed again. “I am referring to something else ye can do for me.”
Her relief did not last long. He would demand a high price.
“Ye need only convince yer husband and yer father to side with my clan over the Dubhshláine.”
With her mind frantically searching through what he’d told Darragh, she forgot to be afraid. Instead, she blurted out the words, “Yewere the one who didn’t want to join with them.”
“Very good. I will always have ye this attentive to my desires.”
She cringed at the word, but he was clearly pleased. So much so that he lowered her so her feet touched the ground then smoothed out the material he’d gripped near her breast as if testing her willingness to have him touch her. Her mind reeled, and she struggled not to react even while her gut churned in revulsion.
“But I have given it much thought.” He dropped his gaze to her bosom, his breath quickened. “If they wish to join with our clan, so be it, but I have as much right to become overking as their ri túath.”
Seigine had described the Dubhshláine’srias an old man, which meant he was no longer able to lead his warriors into battle.
“With the support ye provide for me, little one, I will become overking, an equal to both yer father and yer husband’s father.”
A show of prowess in battle was the normal way to become overking. The entire clan relied on therifor protection, so they were usually asked for their blessing. This man was hoping to obtain kingship by overstepping the process—and he was looking for her to help him.
“D'ye not have the ability to gain the kingship on yer own?”
Though her tone was merely questioning, his face shifted into a look of rage and his eyes darkened. The fear blasted out of her stomach right up into her chest.
“A pampered princess who believes she can fight as a man cannot be expected to grasp the finer points involved in gaining support from other kings.” His tone was surprisingly calm compared to his scowl. “It matters not if ye understand, only that ye obey.”
He tipped his head, questioning if she agreed or not. When he raised his brow, his irritation was irrefutable. Her stomach tightened, but she forced the question out.
“How do I make this happen?”
Seigine watched his fingertip as it slid along her jaw. “Cleave unto yer husband for now. Speak to him of how dangerous the divide is among the clans.” His eyes piercing her made her jaw tighten. “Mention how impressed ye are with me.”
His gaze dropped momentarily to her throat when she swallowed.
“And what a wonderful king I will make as yer neighbor.”
“He’ll never believe I’ve put that much thought into ye.”
He seized her chin in a death grip. “Convince him.”
His hold made it impossible for her to respond but, just as suddenly, he released her.
“Ye have the choice on how things will go for ye.”
The sound of the men returning, laughing and talking, put an end to his intimidation. She stepped away, moving into clear view of those now approaching. Her nose in the air and her breath heaving.
“Careful, little one.” Seigine’s quiet words sliced through her pride, his eyebrows raised in question. He was amused by her discomfiture.
Brighit would be his puppet and well he knew it.
