“You are dangerous.”
“Tomorrow I will be your wedded.” They faced each other in full, their hands entwining in the middle. “Does it mean something?”
The Vaich lifted him with ease, setting him down at the far side. “Marriage does not assume trust.”
“How odd your customs.”
“I would see your desire to leverage this as some tool.”
Again, he was lifted.
“I leverage nothing,” said the druid. “All I want is your consideration.”
He was lowered again and neither he nor the king severed their gaze.
“Do you not see that I might question why?” said the Vaich. “I have no reason to believe your sincerity. You are…eccentric.”
“I will be queen,” the druid reminded him.
The Vaich leaned close. “Andnotking.”
The music ended and they drifted apart as the crowd roared with praise.
“To their Majesties!”
“To the Vaich!”
“Hooray! Hooray for the wedding!”
They watched each other, sun and moon, their panted breaths mingling between them. All around them was a masquerade, but in that moment, he saw the truth. Whatever waited beyond their shores required a united front.
If it was sincerity the Vaich wished, then the druid would pay his price.
The night dwindled, and the druid’s time along with it. Whatever he had been before that day was dying, and now all that was left was to forget.
Halla came in her nightcoat and bonnet and settled a chamberstick on his bedside table. “Ye need to sleep now, íridh. It’ll be a long day ’n night for ye again.”
Hewastired. His eyes had grown heavy after a night of festivities, but he could not bring himself to sleep.
“I want to watch the sunrise.”
Halla nodded sadly. “Aye.”
She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch. “Brought this for ye, from the Líaig. In case they… well, in case they dinnae mind ye.” She settled it beside the chamberstick. He eyed it warily, glancing back at her with furrowed brows. “Tallow,” she said gently, stroking back his hair. “For the seedin’. Keep it by the fire ‘n let it warm ‘fore ye go.”
He shivered at the thought, wringing his nightgown in a weak fist. She sat aside him, bringing him under her arm. “Ye’ll be well, íridh. The old sires watch over ye. Ye ken that.”
He wasn’t sure he did. The old gods had never felt further from him. Or rather, he had been severed from them. Tomorrow, he would be married. There was nothing more unnatural for a druid, but that had never mattered here. They had come to make him one of them, and after tomorrow night, he would be.
“I can never go back,” he said quietly.
“Aye now, íridh… aye now…” And she began to sing of the maiden of the far green country.
She maiden fair, so bonnie bright,
Where do ye go at break o’ light?
Beyond the hill, beyond the sea,
