Page 34 of Bound By Deception

All the same, Lara’s comment took her aback. She wasn’t used to receiving compliments. It made her feel oddly flustered.

The princess turned back to the cloth vendor then and started to haggle. After a robust negotiation, she handed over ashiny silver coin for a bolt of fabric. He hurriedly wrapped it up, passing it to one of the guards that shadowed them.

These men weren’t enforcers but members of the fort guard, clad in leather armor with domed iron helmets upon their heads. Unsurprisingly, the princess wasn’t allowed to venture into the town without an escort.

“Come.” Lara linked her arm through Bree’s, steering her away from the cloth stall, through the press of the crowd. “Time to choose a necklace to go with the new pine-green tunic I shall have made.”

Bree fell in step next to her, even as her gaze swept the milling crowd. Her training meant that she rarely relaxed in environment such as this.

All the same, it was a relief to be outdoors with the sun on her face—despite the ever-present tang of iron that stained the air here. The interior of the broch was dark and damp, and Bree was limited to certain areas.

The dungeon aside, she wasn’t allowed to venture into the hall itself, or the levels above where she and the chief-enforcer resided, unless invited. Since mac Brochan departed for Braewall, Bree had become twitchy and restless.

Nonetheless, she was still kicking herself for letting Torran catch her earlier.

He’d say something to the chief-enforcer—she was sure of it—which would result in an interrogation by her husband.

Trying to ignore the way her belly tightened at the thought, Bree focused on her surroundings once more.

The market was an assault on the senses. It took up a large tract of The Thoroughfare, the winding road that led up from the gates to the broch at the crown of the promontory. Market Day took place once a moon and attracted folk from milesaround. Indeed, it was busy. Noise assaulted her ears: the cries of hawkers, the raised voices of those who haggled, and the excited chatter of shoppers. The aromas of hot mutton pies and frying garlic sausage drifted through the crowd, a respite from less pleasant odors, and despite that Bree still found mortal food overpowering, her belly rumbled.

She wouldn’t be eating for a while though. They were only halfway through shopping.

Already, Bree’s feet ached, and boredom pressed down on her. Nonetheless, Lara was in her element here, chatting to vendors, bartering with ease, and greeting those she knew as she wandered through the crowd.

The young woman was sharp-witted and charming. And despite herself, Bree found it difficult not to like her.

Careful, she warned herself.You won’t find any friends here.

There wasn’t a great risk of her forming attachments, anyway. Bree had always been a loner. She took lovers when it suited her and ended things when they became tedious. She’d never bonded with any of them. Her profession wasn’t a sociable one either, and when she was in residence at Sheehallion, other females were wary of her.

No one trusted an assassin.

“I’m pleased to see that Cailean finally found himself a wife,” Lara said then, as they edged their way toward the throng gathered before a jewelry stall. She flicked Bree a veiled look. “It’s a crime for such a man to remain unwed.”

Bree arched an eyebrow. “Aye?” She hadn’t realized that the princess was on first-name terms with her husband.

Lara’s mouth quirked. “Aye … half the women in the broch lust after him … as well as some of the men.”

Bree snorted. “It sounds as ifyoudo too.” Her response was bold, but she couldn’t help it.

To her surprise, the princess grinned. “I’ll not deny it.” She met Bree’s eye then, and her expression turned wry. “I’ve partnered him in the blood-letting ceremony three times now. It was an … intimate experience.”

Bree arched both eyebrows at this, and to her surprise, a flush rose to Lara’s cheeks. “It’s not like that,” she said hurriedly, clearly worried that the chief-enforcer’s bride would be jealous. “The ritual requires a druid to mix blood with one of us common folk, and when you feel the earth magic rising, the sensation is … intense.”

A chill swept over Bree, and she suppressed a shudder. “Will I have to take part in a blood-letting?” she asked, feigning a casualness she didn’t feel.

Lara nodded. “Once a druid takes a spouse, they always partner in the ceremony.”

Bree swallowed. Iron choke her, she hadthatto look forward to. Anxiety twisted her gut then. Although she was Marav now, her heart—her soul—was still Shee. Would the blood-letting unmask her? “How often does it take place?”

“A couple of times a year … more often if the druids draw deeply upon their magic.”

Bree studied the princess, noting the wistful look in her green eyes. “I think you’d have made a better wife for the chief-enforcer than me,” she admitted after a pause.

Surprise rippled across Lara’s face at this candid remark, and she cast Bree a probing look. An awkward silence fell then before the princess heaved a sigh. “Even if I wished it, I was never destined to be the chief-enforcer’s wife, Fia … father has other plans for me.”

Bree inclined her head, encouraging the princess to elaborate.

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