Page 103 of Ironling
The chatelain stepped forward, her expression even more closed off than usual. That unreadable face had upset Aislinn many a time. Left to fill in her own interpretation, she often imagined Brenna was disappointed in her, mad at her.
Now, it didn’t matter so much. The sting was still there but buried under the cold indignation that Aislinn clung to.
“My lady?”
“I need to know everything that goes on in the castle. If there is sympathetic talk over Jerrod. If there’s discontent with my father or me. Anything.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“That goes for you as well, Brenna.”
That got a coolly arched brow. “Me?”
“I know Jerrod has long been a favorite of yours. I know you feel for him as if…” Aislinn pushed past her tightening throat. “I know he’s dear. But what he’s planning to do—it endangers us all. I hope I can count on you in this time.”
Brenna’s lips drew thin, and for a moment, Aislinn thought she was about to receive a classic, curt telling off. Brenna was a proud woman and held herself and her position to the highest standard. To have her loyalty questioned was no doubt insulting.
And yet, Brenna had let Jerrod get away with most everything. Always she had a reprimand or scolding for Aislinn, yet Jerrod could do no wrong. Perhaps if Jerrod had faced any consequences, from his parents or Brenna, things might have been different.
Perhaps, if their parents hadn’t been so preoccupied with making sure Aislinn was given what she needed to not only survive but succeed with her different mind, they might have seen the angry, jealous boy their son was becoming. The first to notice was Brenna, and she spoiled him for it, giving him the affection his family couldn’t. When he wanted something, he went to Brenna. When he didn’t get something, he went to Brenna.
Brenna forgave him. Brenna loved him. Even when he wasn’t lovable or kind.
She’d been more of a mother to him than Róisín or Aislinn had. Which was why Aislinn had to bury her guilt and ask now.
“He’s just a silly boy,” was what Brenna said. “I’m sure he’ll give it up soon.”
“That’s my hope. But we both know how he can be when he truly wants something.” Aislinn often lamented that he never translated that fervor into dedication to Dundúran and his duties. He could be single-minded and determined, but thedarker side of this was when it still didn’t get him his way. His disappointment was ugly and vicious, and Sorcha’s ordeal was proof of it.
“Your brother has had a difficult life.”
Sorcha audibly scoffed.
Aislinn bit her tongue to keep the retort inside. It was true, for all his privilege and position, Jerrod hadn’t had an easy time of it. There were many reasons to show why he’d done what he did.
And yet—
“That’s no excuse, though, for threatening his family and his home,” said Brenna.
“Indeed.” Aislinn sat back in her seat, trying to assess if Brenna spoke true. She thought so, but then again, she’d thought many things before.
The risk was too high to be wrong now.
“Very well. Keep me informed on whatever you learn.”
“Of course.” Dipping into a quick curtsey, Brenna departed.
The chatelain left an uneasy silence in her wake.
“I want you to keep an eye on her,” Aislinn told Fia softly, whispering as if Brenna might hear through the very walls.
“Yes, milady.”
“Is all this watching and reporting back necessary?” asked Sorcha.
“I hope not,” Aislinn replied. “But there were a few who liked Jerrod.”
“Not enough to threaten your position,” insisted Fia. “Your people are loyal, milady. They’ve seen what you do for them, when your brother was heir and now. They understand who the better leader would be.”
