Page 15 of Ashes of Betrayal

“Fia!” Mirren stepped in between the princess and Bree then, her voice choked. The handmaid’s blue eyes glittered. “Is that you?”

Bree’s heart leaped into her throat. “Aye,” she muttered, even as the urge to enfold Mirren in a tight hug reared up. “But keep your voice down.”

Ignoring her, Mirren clutched at her wrist. “Why—”

“Mirren!” The imperious edge to Lara’s voice made the handmaid release Bree’s arm as if scalded. The princess then picked up another pair of earrings and held them up, making a show of comparing them with the first ones. “What do you think?” she said loudly. “The dark or the light amber?”

“The light, Your Highness,” Mirren replied, even as her gaze remained upon Bree’s face. Her lips parted, her eyes burning with questions.

“The dark is beautiful too though,” Bree added, playing along while casting Mirren a warning look. The lass had an impulsive nature that could get them all into trouble if not checked. All the same, warmth kindled deep in her chest.

Shades, this was almost like old times. She’d felt so alone over the past two moons without these women.

The guards had stopped a couple of yards back from the stall, and she could feel the weight of their stares upon her back. If she turned now, one of them was sure to recognize her.

“Can you arrange a meeting with my husband?” Bree asked, regaining her focus.

Both Lara and Mirren’s faces changed then. Her heart lurched. Why were they staring at her like that? Why did pity shadow their gazes?

Moments slid by, and then Lara’s throat bobbed. “I can’t … he’s dead.”

Dead.

Bree’s heart slammed hard against her ribs, and she grabbed the edge of the stall to steady herself. Suddenly, the world tilted, and a roaring began in her ears. “No,” she croaked.

That couldn’t be right. Cailean was supposed to be here.

Lara’s fingers wrapped around her forearm, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry … he fell in The Barrow Woods.” The princess broke off there, her eyes gleaming. “My brother too.”

“They all did,” Mirren whispered. “When the warband didn’t return, the High King eventually sent scouts north. There, they found nothing but the charred remains of the enforcers and warriors.”

“Aye.” Bitterness roughened Lara’s voice then. “It appears that after the Shee massacred our men, they threw them onto a great pyre.”

The roaring in Bree’s ears dulled as realization dawned.

The Shee never burned their dead. The hills of Sheehallion were filled with grassy barrows; only the Marav built funeral pyres.

Her breathing grew shallow then.Caileanhad burned those bodies. But after doing so, he hadn’t returned to Duncrag as she’d thought.

Another wave of dizziness assailed her, and she placed her hand over Lara’s, squeezing tightly.

Of course. She should have considered that, after being the sole survivor of a massacre, Caileancouldn’tgo back to Duncrag. The High King would have held him personally responsible.

But if he hadn’t returned to the capital, where was he?

Hope burst through the fatalism that had dogged her steps since leaving Sheehallion. She’d told herself that Cailean would soon be taken from her. He was the High King’s chief-enforcer, after all. But if he’d gone rogue, he wouldn’t take part in the coming conflict.

He’d survive.

And she’d find him—even if she had to scour this realm from one end to the other.

Aye, he’d snarl at her initially. He’d likely blame her for ruining his life, yet she was tough enough to weather his anger. He’d recover from it, in time.

Instead, she had to remember the look in his eyes when they’d parted at The Ring of Caith, and the fact that he’d saved her life when he could have dragged her back to the High King.

He wanted her as much as she did him.

“Fia.” Lara’s husky voice drew her back to the present. She was aware that both the princess and her maid were watching her, their expressions stricken. “I’m so sorry.”

---