By some silent agreement, Tadhg picked me up afterward, and they both carried me back to my original bedroom suite, where I passed out between the two brother-from-another kings.
More sleep.
This time, I woke to the most delicious smells yet.
“New Year’s feast,” Tadhg explained, dragging an armchair close to the service cart that had been placed beside my bed. “To welcome the best year of our lives.”
It was so much food. A whole beef and Guinness pie just for me. Two for Declan. Three for Tadhg. Between us sat several heaping bowls—rich buttered cabbage, crisp roasties, candied carrots, mountains of champ, and thick slices of soda bread stacked beside a crock of golden butter.
As it turned out, I was ravenous. Tadhg ended up giving me half of one of his pies, reminding me gently, “You’re eating for four now.”
I accepted it with a quiet “thank you,” shame tightening inside my chest.
It must have shown on my face.
“What’s wrong?” Tadhg’s happy eating expression crumpled into worry.
“She’s got her evil mother echoing through her mind,” Declan answered before I could. “It’ll take a while for the voice to fade.”
“In that case,” Tadhg said, tone firm, “I’m insisting you take two portions of this caramel cake for dessert.”
My face burned. I wasn’t sure I’deverget used to Declan reading my mind. It was like having my confessional bear back—but now I didn’t even have to speak for him to know my worst, darkest thoughts.
“You’ll get used to it,” Declan assured me.
I frowned. “I don’t think I?—”
“You will,” he insisted, spearing his one piece of caramel cake. “And let your bear know that after six weeks, you’ll want into my head, too.”
That’s when I realized someone was missing.
“Where’s the Shadow King?” I asked.
“Acting pure mule-headed about waiting his turn,” Tadhg said, rolling his eyes just like Brigid. “Sorry, Strawberry, that training session was a once-off. Your Shadow King’s a loner, through and through. I’m hanging out with you two for the week, with Declan’s permission. But you won’t be seeing Cian again until it’s his turn.”
That tracked with what all I’d learned about the Shadow King when I bit him. But…
“His turn?” I asked them.
Turns
So,apparently, the kings took turns with me.
By tradition (of course), until the First Claim baby was born, shared queens split their time between their kings’ palaces.
Like many rituals, it made a strange kind of practical sense. Throughout the Irish Bears’ history, this had meant that if a queen’s kings didn’t get along, they didn’t have to share—or watch their queen be shared by another.
“But what happens once the first baby is born if they don’t get along?”
Both Declan’s and Tadhg’s faces clouded at that question. And Declan declared in his kingly tone, “No dark history lessons to start off the new year.”
Luckily, Declan and Tadhgdidget along. They proved just how well over the entirety of the first week of January.
If Declan was still upset about my unexpected delivery ruining his plans for his next six quarters—“at least”—it didn’t show. We filled our days with large meals, long naps, and even longerconversations while I whittled a five bear set to give Brigid as a gift. To my surprise, the High King was still an excellent listener in human form and incredibly easy to talk to for hours.
“It’s a good skill set to have as a CEO,” he explained one evening when we looked up from what was supposed to be a short picnic lunch to find the sun dipping below the lake. “And it’s much more interesting talking to you than sitting in endless meetings about numbers.”
As angry as I’d been at the wedding I’d cut short with what Declan still referred to as that “dead-sexy temper tantrum,” this felt like having my bear confessional back again. Only better.
