Page 36 of The Prince or the Bard?
His smile could charm a sea urchin. Has he always flirted with me like this? Was I simply too caught up in my status against his to see it?
I lift my chin. I'm not a servant anymore. And thanks to the prince, the enemies of the púcaí have all been rooted out of the high court.
Andthanks to me. I had a hand in foiling their plot, too. There's no sense in being modest.
What a curious situation the prince and I find ourselves in, then: two equals, when it comes to heroics, living across the field from one another.
"I suppose," I say, "the winter will pass much more quickly with you for a neighbor."
"I daresay it will."
Then he does something I don't expect. Prince Ruairí moves towards me with swift steps, his hands seizing the sides of my face. The work site falls utterly silent.
"I won't share you," Ruairí says quietly, his eyes intense. "If you're still in love with the bard—even with the idea of him, I'll step aside. But if you can still accept me, after all my bumbling, I promise I'll court you well and always be true. Even if you don't love me now, I swear I'll do everything in my power to give cause for love to grow."
My heart beats faster. With him, it isn't calm I feel. It's the excitement of knowing something long awaited has finally come to be.
"Even if I was in love with him until this very moment, I'd still choose you," I reply, my eyes drifting to his mouth. I cannot help myself. My lips quirk up as I add, "Sir."
"Beautiful Laoise—in both your forms." His thumb lightly strokes my cheekbone. "I haven't quite mended all my ways yet. Is there anything in your heart for me already? Something to make my task quicker and easier, even if it is the faintest spark?"
I laugh, enjoying that old twinkle of mischief in his eyes. But then they turn serious, and I know how badly he wants the right answer.
I'm no longer a maid. Even the high court would be safe for us now. But are my feelings for him—the ones I ignored for so long—still there?
I search my bargain-altered mind, waiting to find this chance to be with Ruairí ruined by some foolishness. But itisn’tfoolish. Here in Diarmuid’s Row, with the sound of the waves crashing in the distance, not a single thing could be foolish about the two of us living here together.
And I realize I'd be a foolnotto fall for him. So I go ahead and do just that.
"There's more than a spark," I say, my heart swelling.
When his own lips are just inches from mine, he says, "Queen’s cousin Laoise, if you don't mind, I think I owe you a kiss."
"Owe me, do you? For what?" My gaze still on his mouth, I raise a challenging brow.
"For helping save the queen. For giving me another chance." His throat bobs. "For love."
And that, I find, as his lips crush against mine, is a bargain I'd be wise to accept.
Ever After
“Darling,” Ruairí says, squintingthrough the window facing my old cottage, “I think the rapscallions are here.”
I appear beside him, eying the four horses and a white pony trotting up the road. With a frown, I tuck back a lock, highlighting the bit of frost the hair in my seelie form has lately acquired. “You think, or you know? I swear you need an eyeglass.”
“High Fae do not become myopic.” The prince sniffs before turning for the door. “I just didn’t expect them all to arrive by horse.”
I frown as well; only High King Tadhg actually requires a horse, though at their last visit, the girls were clearly afraid of a long walk. I’ll need to have words with my nieces, as well as my royal cousin. Just because they’re only half púca doesn’t excuse them.
A lady has to maintain her unseelie form, and remind these High Fae nobles what arealfae looks like.
Our kin are already guiding their horses to the stable by the time I join them, still wrapping a woolen shawl tightly around my shoulders. Despite the palm trees that line our coast, autumn does not come gently to the Seaglass Court. In the distance, I can hear the fierce crash of the sea as the wind of an approaching rainstorm whips the waves into a frenzy.
“Well met, brother,” High King Tadhg says as he hops down off his massive horse, a requirement to carry such a king. The poor steed will practically have to duck to get into his stall.
After embracing my husband, Tadhg turns to me. “Chieftain,” he greets me, offering me a similar embrace that swallows me.
I’m still not quite used to the High King’s affection, even after twenty years in the family. He’s been like this ever since I had a hand in saving his wife—and here she is now, my gracious cousin and sister by law.
