My gaze landed on the door leading to the hallway.
But I know someone who isn’t.
I left via the study, running through the hall and up the stairs beyond. By the time I made it back to the fourth floor, the muscles in my legs ached and burned. I found Tadhg sitting on the stones beside Keelynn’s casket, eyes closed and face raised to the ceiling. A silver scar across his throat stood out against his tanned skin.
“Do you know what I love most about your sister?” he slurred, not bothering to open his eyes as he stretched his legs in front of him. Muck covered the soles of his scuffed boots, and his buckles had been left unfastened. “She forgave me for everything I’d done even though I didn’t deserve it.”
Still drunk. Brilliant. Perhaps he’d be easily swayed.
The closer I got to him, the heavier the air smelled of drink. “Do you share her views on forgiveness?”
Glassy green eyes found mine. “Why? What has my brother done now?”
“He sentenced a woman to death.”
Tadhg cursed. “Who?”
“I think her name was Anwen.”
Groaning, his head fell back.
“She stole things to take care of her family, but Rían . . .” Saying his name made me want to stab something. “He didn’t even listen to her explanation. Didn’t care.”
“Rían’s world is black and white. But the world isn’t black and white, is it? It’s a million shades of gray.” A smile ghosted across Tadhg’s cursed lips. His gaze fell to the golden coffin. “Your sister’s eyes are the most beautiful shade of gray. Like storm clouds rolling in from the sea.” Sighing, he pushed to his feet and brushed his hands down his dark breeches covered in stains. “I will fix it.”
For the first time since he’d killed Keelynn, I saw a glimmer of a man worthy of forgiveness. “Thank you.”
Tadhg nodded. “He doesn’t deserve you. The sooner you realize it, the better.”
The door flew open, making both of us jump.
Rían stood on the other side, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Now, now, brother. You know better than to meddle in my affairs.”
Rían’s eyes tracked me as I stepped closer to Tadhg. “Andyou. Was it not enough for you to question my authority and make me look like a fool? Now you run off to my feckin’ brother and beg him to undermine me?”
Sneering, Tadhg settled his arm around my shoulder. “You may have played leader today, but Aveen knows who’s really in charge.”
Rían’s eyes went black. With a flick of his wrist, Tadhg disappeared—along with the only hope of saving that poor woman.
I positioned myself between Keelynn and Rían, never taking my eyes from the prince’s menacing stance, waiting for his breathing to calm. “I’m sorry, but you gave me no choice.”
His head cocked to the side. His black eyes narrowed. “Do not say you had no choice when you did.You had a choice, Aveen.” His fist banged against his thigh. Once. Twice. “And so did that witch. She knew what she was doing was illegal. She knew and did it anyway.”
It sounded to me like the crime had been born of desperation. A last resort. “She deserves another chance.”
“Does she now? And how many chances should I give her?” Holding up his fingers, he counted as he spoke. “Two? Three? No, wait. Four. Or should I give her five? I know! Six. Six strikes and then she’s beheaded.” He wagged a finger at me. “No exceptions though, I mean it.”
Did he think this was funny? He had sentenced someone to death. And not death that lasted a year and a day. Real death. Final, eternal death.
“This isn’t a joke, Rían.”
“I’m not feckin’ joking! That is what I hear when you say I should make exceptions. Who do I make these exceptions for? Just certain people? The ones with the most tragic backstories? Only the mothers? What about the fathers? Or should I make an exception for everyone? Should the law be eradicated and everyone be allowed to do whatever they please?”
Although I didn’t want to admit it, there was no denying the validity of his argument. Where was the line between good and evil—wrong and right—if the law didn’t make one?
It took a moment, but Rían’s ragged breathing eventually steadied. In a calmer voice, he said, “Months ago, my brother offered Anwen some of the castle’s rations if she could not afford to sustain her family. And yet her pride kept her from asking for help. She deserves to suffer the consequences of her actions.”
Deserves to suffer?