Page 95 of Ashes of Betrayal

Bree was considering warning her about this—for although Lara didn’t always welcome her bluntness, it was part of her role—when a female voice carried through the curtain. “Your Highness … the new enforcers have arrived!”

Lara stepped back from Bree and handed her the blunted knife they’d been practicing with. A relieved smile flowered across her face, making her resemble the princess Bree had met a year earlier—a lass full of curiosity and spark. “Come then,” she said, motioning to both Mirren and Bree. “Let’s go out to meet them.”

Wordlessly, Bree and Mirren obeyed, following their queen down the stone stairwell to the bottom level of the broch. Emerging through the iron doors—what a relief it was not toworry about accidentally touching it—they halted on the top step before the yard.

It was a bright and blustery spring afternoon. Fluffy clouds scudded across a blue sky. The Gales of Complaint were doing their best to scatter straw and dust. Pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, Bree’s gaze swept across the yard, to where her husband walked before a line of black-clad figures. As always, Skaal stalked at his side.

Behind Cailean, Torran and the three other ‘senior’ enforcers looked on.

There were twenty new arrivals. Young, tattooed, and arrogant. And to Bree’s surprise, one of the new enforcers was female. Tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair tightly braided down her back, she observed the chief-enforcer with a veiled expression, her strong jaw set.

Bree’s lips curved. Of course, this lot would try to test their leader.

She’d enjoy watching Cailean deal with them.

Her gaze settled on him now, greedily taking in every detail of her chief-enforcer husband. His expression was inscrutable, those woad-blue eyes as dispassionate as they’d been on the day they’d met. Only now, his coldness was a ruse—designed to let these recruits know their place. When his gaze settled on her, it always thawed.

“Twenty!” Mirren gasped at Bree’s side. “I didn’t think the arch-druid would send so many.”

“Let’s hope they’re ready,” Lara answered, her attention never straying from the line. “Some of them look very young.”

Bree’s gaze narrowed as she viewed the recruits once more. Aye, Lara had a point. Two of the male enforcers looked as if they hadn’t yet shaved their chins. All the same, there was bullishness in their stance. The earth magic in their veins brought out aggression. It was what made enforcers so deadly.

Below, Cailean was now addressing some of the recruits, questioning them about their training. The rumble of his voice reached them, although the Gales of Complaint made it difficult to catch the words.

Bree glanced over at Lara once more, noting her proud profile as she watched Cailean. She’d once thought that Lara harbored a secret longing for her father’s chief-enforcer. However, these days, she realized that it was merely a deep respect. She’d partnered with him in the blood-letting a few times, a ritual that forged a closeness between participants.

A ritual that Bree could now share with her husband.

Still watching Lara, she frowned, wondering what the future held for her friend. “Will you marry again?” she asked finally. She was the only one who addressed Lara so informally. The two women had developed a closeness that allowed her to get away with it.

Lara glanced her way, a groove etching between her brows. “I think not.”

The response held an edge to it, and beside Bree, Mirren shifted in surprise. “Isn’t it expected, Your Highness?”

Lara pulled a face. “Perhaps, but since I’m the High Queen, I can change the rules.” She paused then, her gaze shadowing. “I’ve already had a taste of marriage … and didn’t find it to my liking.”

Bree stiffened. Over the past moons, Lara had spoken little of her brief union to King Dunchadh of Braewall. Had he lived, she’d have moved to the southern capital to bear his children. But The Gods had intervened. Nonetheless, from what little she’d gleaned, she’d put a picture together—of a vicious man who’d already buried three wives.

Whenever Bree had tried to discover more about how he’d treated her, Lara clammed up. And her insistence now, that shewouldn’t marry again, made Bree suspect he’d used his fists on her.

“I suppose a queen doesn’t need a mate,” she said after an awkward pause. Lara wore a brittle expression now, and she wished to ease it. “Morhas never taken one.”

Lara nodded, her jaw firming. “Aye. If I take a husband, I will likely be fat with his child within a few moons. Albia needs aruler, not a broodmare.”

Below, Cailean finished his inspection of the recruits. He then sent them away, watching as they followed Torran down the wynd that led around the broch and toward the barracks behind it.

Bree caught Lara’s eye. “Can I go down to my husband?” she asked.

“Of course.” The High Queen’s mouth quirked. “You don’t need to ask permission for such things.”

Nodding, she descended the steps.

Hearing her approach, Cailean turned, his mouth curving into an intimate smile that he reserved just for her.

Warmth kindled in her belly in response.

Skaal moved forward to greet her, pushing hard against Bree’s side and nearly knocking her off balance. “Careful,” she greeted the hound fondly as she stroked her neck. “You don’t know your own strength.” She’d missed not being able to touch minds with animals since her return to Duncrag—and she still thought often about Tivesheh—but it was a small price to pay for the contentment she’d found.

---