His heavy exhale fluttered the golden curls splayed across my own pillow. “I’d hardly win over someone like you if I didn’t at least to pretend to have a heart.”
“Someone like me?”
Rían’s fingertip found my collarbone, following the line to the hollow of my throat. “Good. Kind. Selfless.”
Good? I wasn’t good. Not really. I had blackmailed a woman for information. I had lied to my family, to my sister, to the world. I had taken part in an elaborate ruse to escape my familial duty.
Kind? I was kind to some but not to everyone. I clung to grudges and found it difficult to forgive.
Selfless? I may have died so that Keelynn could be with the man she loved, but that wasn’t the only reason. I had also died for me. To free myself from my responsibilities. I had given up everything to get what I wanted.
“I am none of those things,” I told him.
He dragged his finger up my throat, lifting my chin until I met his gaze. “You are all those things and more,” he whispered. “I do not deserve you.” His lips tugged into a smile. “But I am wicked, ruthless, and selfish enough to keep you anyway.”
* * *
Rían left shortly after breakfast, saying he had to attend executions up north, near Mistlaline. How heartbreaking it must be, watching so many of his people put to death based on false accusations. If only there was some way to make the Airren authorities understand most of their witnesses were liars. If only there were some way to give these people a fair trial.
If I were a man, perhaps I could speak out against the injustice. Not that it would do any good when, according to Rían, the magistrates conducting the trials “had their fingers in their ears.”
I came down the castle stairs to find a bouquet of fuchsias in a crystal vase on the hall table. Hopefully Rían would be back home soon. He’d only been gone an hour, and I missed him already. Pushing my useless pining aside, I started for the door. Outside, the sun shined as bright as ever.
Ruairi waved at me from the edge of the fountain, Muireann perched at his side. Before I reached him, he lumbered to his feet and gestured toward the gates.
Right. It was to be another walk this morning.
Although my legs ached from yesterday, I didn’t protest when he brought me out into the fresh breeze.
Instead of heading for the cliffs, the path we took cut through the hills. If it weren’t for the warm air, I could almost have imagined myself back in Airren, strolling to the market.
“Are we going far?” I asked, lengthening my strides in a poor attempt to keep up. Did these men not realize my short legs could only go so fast?
Ruairi shook his head. Strange. He usually had more to say.
“Are you feeling all right, Ruairi?”
He grumbled, “Headache,” but didn’t slow.
I understood his pain. Yesterday, it had taken almost two hours for my headache to subside. Rían had talked nonstop about absolutely nothing, laughing and patting my back every time I groaned. Delighting in my hungover misery. I wouldn’t be drinking like that for a long, long time.
Since I wasn’t evil, I spared Ruairi the conversation, entertaining myself by seeing how long I could kick a round stone down the path.
We passed rows of cottages, each with a small garden and a fruit tree of some sort growing within low stone fences. Some had laundry flapping in the breeze, others had sheds and tills.
Eventually, we reached the bordering forest teaming with life. Squirrels scurried along the uneven ground and birds flitted above. It would’ve been winter in Airren, but the trees here were greener than any I’d ever seen. If there were any doubt that this land was fueled by magic, these trees, this forest, was all the proof anyone would need.
I could practically hear the ferns growing, the ivy vines climbing, and the butterflies fluttering from one wildflower to the next.
Rúairi went to pass the first tree. My footsteps faltered. “Ye comin’ or not?” he threw over his shoulder, barely glancing my way.
“Rían said I wasn’t to go into the forest.” And I’d promised him. After hearing what had happened to his first love, how could I not? The last thing I needed was to break our tentative bond of trust.
“He’s the one who told us to meet him here.”
That couldn’t be right. Rían was in Mistlaline.
“Come on.” Ruairi’s hand dwarfed mine when he took it. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep ye safe.”