Page 55 of Bound By Deception

Eldra had a canny way about her that never failed to put Bree on edge.

Masking her discomfort, Bree gave a soft snort. “They’ll move on to other subjects soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Maybe.” Lara’s lips curved. “But it’s a rare thing … for a woman to take on two enforcers.”

“Mother Gelda at the House of Maids has introduced self-defense as part of our training,” Bree replied, repeating the lie that now slipped easily off her tongue. “For my last year there, I had a combat instructor.”

She didn’t look Eldra’s way as she spoke, for she’d already told the healer this story. Nonetheless, she felt the weight of the woman’s gaze upon her.

“I believed Maids of Albia were schooled only in how to please their husbands and little else.” Lara glanced down at the mortar as she began grinding parsley into a paste. “Although I’m pleased to be proved wrong.”

Bree forced a tight smile, wishing they could talk about something else. After watching her husband depart with a band of twenty enforcers earlier, she’d been on her way back to their alcove to retrieve a silver acorn and send a message to Mor, when a servant had intercepted her. The princess requested her presence in the healer’s chamber. Seething with irritation, she’d gone downstairs.

“It’s fortunate you were nearby when Mirren was attacked, Lady mac Brochan,” Eldra said after a pause. “Even so, they brutalized the lass.”

Bree glanced the healer’s way to see that she was frowning. “Aye, and Mirren is still suffering,” she replied. “Although her physical injuries aren’t the worst of it.”

“I’m glad the chief-enforcer executed them,” Princess Lara said then, her voice hard. “Even if father is vexed with him over it.”

Eldra's gaze widened at this, while Bree stilled, anger kindling in her belly.

Witnessing their reactions, Lara grimaced. “Enforcers take a long time to train, and these days, the number of young men displaying the gift lessens. Father believes mac Brochan acted rashly.”

Bree fought a scowl. It didn’t surprise her that the High King would defend rapists. He hunted her kind like vermin and treated his own people with disdain. Nonetheless, the anger simmering in the princess’s eyes made it clear she didn’t agree with her father.

“Did you hear that Lady mac Brochan’s husband challenged her to a fight afterward?” Eldra asked as she handed the princess the clay jar she’d just retrieved. “Just a few drops will do, Your Highness.”

“I did,” Lara replied, following the healer’s instructions, as she cast Bree a veiled look.

“Aye, well … the less that’s said about that the better.” Tying up the pouch she’d just filled with ground seeds, Bree dusted off her hands.

“I was talking to an enforcer yesterday who witnessed the fight … and he said you held your own admirably,” the healer added. Once again, something in her tone put Bree’s hackles up.

“Not really,” she muttered. “He just toyed with me for a bit before knocking me onto my arse.”

Lara lifted her hand to her mouth to hide a laugh while Eldra raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Heat washed over Bree as she remembered the humiliating encounter.

Her pulse fluttered then. She hadn’t meant for mac Brochan to see her earlier, as she’d stood upon the walls watching him depart. The impact of their gazes meeting after he’d twisted in the saddle, his stallion dancing under him, had made her heart kick against her ribs. But she’d ridden the discomfort and held his stare.

He’d been the first one to look away.

Afterward, she’d told herself it wasn’t a bad thing, to let him think she’d come out to see him off. If he believed that she was forming an attachment to him, it would stroke his male pride. His absence had earned her a reprieve, but Bree was walking on a knife-edge now—one misstep and she’d tumble.

It was mid-afternoon before Bree got any time alone.

Mirren had gone down to retrieve clean clothes from the laundry. The lass would be busy for a while, sorting and folding.

Even so, Bree moved swiftly. Crossing to her trunk, she dug down to the bottom, retrieved her leather pouch, and extracted a silver acorn. These were precious in Sheehallion, for silver oaks were rare. Shee royalty had always used silver acorns to send important, and private, messages.

Seating herself on the closed trunk, she held the acorn in her upturned palm and breathed upon it, whispering the charm. “Open to me, dear one … so that I might tell you my secrets.”

A heartbeat passed, and the outer husk of the acorn unfurled, like the wings of a moth, waiting for Bree’s message.

“The chief-enforcer rides north to the Goatfell Mountains,” she murmured. “He travels with a company of twenty warrior-druids. There has been unrest … it appears the Circines tribe is involved. If you wish to intercept the enforcers, the opportunity is there.” Bree paused before adding, “There are fears that the druidic bloodlines are failing … the High King is desperate for all druids to bear offspring, but especially the enforcers.”

Her heart skipped a beat then. She wasn’t sure what Mor would do with these details, but she was well overdue for her first update. For the moment, it suited Mor that the chief-enforcer lived, so he could give up what he knew to Bree. But, even if he died, would that mean the job was over? Could she go home?

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