Because of Sorcha’s motherly nature—and their knightly father’s frequent absences—their mother often relied on her as a third parent. So much was demanded of Aoife’s attention that when it wasn’t on cooking for her large family or managing the vast family stables, that attention usually went to her youngest children. Maeve hadn’t been youngest for quite some time now.
No, lamentably, Maeve was now squarely in the middle of her large family.
There’d been a time when Maeve sought to be their father’s favorite, if she couldn’t be their mother’s, but Sir Ciaran had been gone so much of her childhood, there’d hardly been an opportunity for that. When he was home, he was often busy overseeing the training of his two eldest sons to follow him into knighthood—and getting Aoife pregnant again.
So Maeve had been left to seek what she needed outside the family. That was all right, though, for she’d become quite good at winning the love of others. Before leaving for university, she’d had so many friends, a string of beaus and lovers, and so many more who wanted to be either.
I still need to introduce myself to the new grooms,she remembered as she tiptoed into the kitchen.
She’d never been tied down by a stables dalliance and never would, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be fun.
Forgoing the covered plate that’d been left for her, Maeve snatched an apple for her breakfast. She was about to turn and make her escape when the voice that haunted her dreams cracked across the kitchen.
“Oh no you don’t. Sit and eat first,” ordered Sorcha.
Maeve bit back her pout as her body complied, muscles moving of their own accord. That sisterly power Sorcha continued to wield just wasn’t fair. As a third parent to Maeveand their other siblings, Sorcha was somehow the scariest of the three.
Dutifully tucking into her eggs, bacon, and biscuit, Maeve listened to their conversation with only half an ear. Stables business had never interested her much—which was good, for although she prided herself on being the brilliant sister, it’d been clear since they were little that Sorcha would inherit the horse training business the Brádaigh clan was known for. That suited Maeve just fine, and it made their mother happy. If Aoife had had her way, none of her children would ever leave.
Their father, though, had always encouraged them to explore the wider world and make their mark outside of Granach or even the Darrowlands. Maeve planned to do just that. She’d never forget the thrill of pleasure seeing her father so proud of her for attending Queen Angharad. For a fleeting while, she’d felt like his favorite.
And now look at me,she brooded. Pushing her eggs around the plate rather than eating them, Maeve frowned.There must be something I can do.
“Be sure to write Lady Aislinn that the roans will be ready in a fortnight, I just need to…”
Maeve perked at her mother’s mention of Lady Aislinn Darrow. Snapping her fingers, she declared, “That’s it!”
Her mother and sister blinked at her over the kitchen table.
“What’s it?” asked Aoife.
Pointing at Sorcha, Maeve said, “In your letter, be sure to tell Lady Aislinn I’m back. You could send her my qualification documents, yes?” She nearly bounced from her seat, she was so elated. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? “You could send my documents to Lady Aislinn and inquire about positions in Dundúran University.” It was a far smaller institution than Queen Angharad, and Maeve’s initial inquiries hadn’t met with success, but she wasn’t Lady Aislinn, heiress to the Darrowlands.
“But you have a position already at the new school,” Aoife reminded her.
“Yes,” said Maeve, “but Lady Aislinn might find somethingbetter.”
Sorcha’s lips thinned. “You’ve already made commitments to Briseis, you can’t abandon them already.”
Waving a hand, she assured her sister, “I won’t, I won’t. I keep my word. But for next term, there might be something…” She arched a brow at Sorcha significantly. “Even a position in the castle or a civil post in Town Hall. My qualifications are more aligned with academia, but I’m sure I could succeed at whatever she may find me.”
She could see the reservations writ on Sorcha’s face. Fluttering around the table, Maeve took her sister’s hands and squeezed. “Please,Sorcha. I’m grateful to Briseis, but I have to think of my future. This is a delicate time in a graduate’s career—one misstep now and I could be passed up forever.”
Rounding her eyes, she squeezed Sorcha’s hands again.Please please please don’t argue. Just because Sorcha wasn’t ambitious, and would think that a position at a little school was a perfectly acceptable use of a university education, and was happy to take what their mother handed her, didn’t mean Maeve could be content, too.
Maeve wantedmore. Always had.
The moment Sorcha inhaled to sigh, Maeve knew she’d won. Biting back her triumphant grin, she accepted Sorcha’s agreement with solemnity and gratitude, making the appropriate noises and saying the correct things. She received Sorcha’s lecture about not exploiting Lady Aislinn and her mother’s kisses to her cheeks with grace and patience before being hurried out the door on her way.
Patting down her skirts, Maeve chuckled to herself. They were a pair of mother hens, those two. It was all about knowinghow to manage them.
With a bounce in her step, she started off for the otherly school.
2
Wiping off his paws with a used rag, Soren tossed the sweat-soaked cloth over his shoulder as he turned to make his usual afternoon meander down to the school.
Nearly seventeen, Kiri was far too old for Soren to be collecting after a day at school—which Kiri often vehemently reminded him of—yet he continued to do. Not because he feared for hisseska-bin. These lands were more than secure, what with all the mantii, orcs, harpies, and fae running about the countryside. If they weren’t, Soren never would’ve allowed Kiri to go at all.
