Rían held a handkerchief toward me. “Take this and go home.”
“I c-can’t.” My hand shook as I shoved my hair away from my sweaty forehead and used his handkerchief to wipe my lips. There was something I needed to do. Something important. “I have to collect Keelynn’s dress.”
Two people were dead because of me, and I was worried about my sister’s bloody dress.
“Tell me where it is, and I will collect it for you.”
I pressed my overwarm cheek against the cold plaster, praying the spinning world would stop moving for one blasted minute.
Rían brushed my hair back, his fingers gentle as they grazed my cheek. “Is it at Meranda’s?”
“I don’t want your help.” I didn’t deserve anyone’s help.
“Don’t make me threaten you.” He flicked his wrist. The heaviness hanging in the air evaporated. With another flick, a hulking black horse appeared in the alley, saddled and ready to ride. “Get out of here before you get sick all over my boots.”
I couldn’t leave on his horse. “My coachman—”
“I’ll handle it.” He lifted me as though I weighed no more than a feather, plopping me unceremoniously on top of the horse. Swirling ancient symbols decorated the rich leather saddle. He barked what sounded like an order in a language I had never heard.
The horse’s ears twitched. Handing me the reins, Rían smacked the beast’s hindquarters, and it took off. The crowd parted as the horse worked its way past the shops and stalls and cathedral to a back alley that connected to the main road leading north. I didn’t have to steer until we reached a fork. I urged it to the right, and it obeyed, picking up its pace.
It should’ve been me.
It should’ve been me.
It should’ve been me.
Only it hadn’t been me. It had been Charlie.
Had he protested his innocence? Had he been afraid? Was he at peace?
The fields and trees turned into blurred streaks behind my tears. I scrubbed my eyes with my sleeve, trying to pull myself together.
I couldn’t let my sister see me like this. Or my father.
When I arrived at the end of the long drive, the horse came to a skidding halt.
Padraig stood in the center, weathered hands braced at his hips, shoulders no longer stooped but straight.
I threw aside the reins.
The moment my slippers hit the soft earth, Padraig’s arms came around me in a fierce hug. “Shhh . . . There, there, milady. There’s nothin’ to be done.” He patted my head.
“You don’t understand. I—”
“Not a word more. Not a word.”
I managed to breathe a little easier when he let me go, patting my cheek with a rough hand. I’d be lost without him. He was so much more than a coachman—
Hold on.
Where was the carriage? How had he beaten me here?
Rían’s horse nudged my back with his muzzle.
Padraig hobbled around me to catch the bridle.
“Padraig? How are you here?” He should’ve taken at least three times as long driving the carriage. There was only one road in and out of town.How was he here?