By the time they reached the Great Hall, Bleddyn was once again cool and collected. With some effort, she plastered a smile onto her face as they stepped into the hall. The evening was already well underway, the long table at the center of the room covered with food and many of the seats already filled by Bleddyn’s advisors and high-ranking warriors.
He led them to the head of the table, at least having the decency to get her seated before seating himself. Not that I expected such an honor tonight, she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes when he helped scoot her chair under the table. He had been petty about such things before. He took the seat next to her, his expression the perfect mask of confidence and disinterest, as if their argument moments ago had never happened.
She picked up her goblet, the strong wine served with every meal welcome on a night like this one. Next to her sat the clan’s warrior chief, Bronagh, while Gwilym sat on the other side of Bleddyn. Neither of the two men so much as glanced her way. Bleddyn fell into conversation with Gwilym and a servant brought them plates of food. Ciara was more than happy to distract herself with her meal, her emotions swirling around inside her. One of the brothers wasn’t telling the truth, but she was becoming more and more inclined to believe that Niall wasn’t the dishonest one. His reaction had been one of genuine confusion, not anger and defensiveness.
The others around the table ignored her for most of the meal, as had become customary inside Ciall’s walls, but tonight she didn’t complain. She had enough to think on without having to try and carry on pointless conversation. Just as she began to cut into her slice of venison, the hall doors opened. Looking up from her plate, she paused to watch Maura walk into the room with Niall’s advisor, Aled, and his small band of warriors. Ciara eagerly searched the group for Niall, disappointment flooding her when she realized that he wasn’t present. Maura boldly strode up to the two empty chairs at the far end of the table, Aled at her side. Bleddyn’s mouth downturned as the two of them took the empty seats.
“And just where is Ri Niall tonight?” Bleddyn asked, curling his lip.
“Ri Niall wishes me to pass on that he is regretfully not feeling well this evening,” Maura replied, meeting Bleddyn’s gaze without even a flinch.
Though Ciara had her own worries for Niall in light of his odd behavior and constant excuses, she still couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the way the other woman stared Bleddyn down. Bleddyn, however, didn’t feel the same. He sneered, taking a long sip of his wine.
“Not feeling well, is he?” he said. “Well, I certainly hope that he’ll be feeling better by tomorrow morning. Unless he’s planning to get his way by refusing to meet with me.”
Maura pressed her lips together and Aled cleared his throat, the older man intently occupied with acknowledging the servants who were rushing to bring him his food.
“I don’t think Niall would be one to lie about feeling poorly,” Ciara said, shooting Bleddyn a scolding look.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twisted into an ugly grimace. “I don’t suppose you would suspect him of lying, would you?”
She ignored the pointed remark, forcing herself to turn her attention back to cutting her meat. Bleddyn let the conversation drop, turning back to Gwilym. When Ciara glanced up to take another sip of her drink, Maura passed her a grateful smile that she tentatively returned.
Much like the night before, Bleddyn drank freely. The habit was one Ciara had begun to notice since she had come to live at the castle, but it seemed to be getting even more excessive with Niall’s visit. Bleddyn’s tongue got looser the more he drank and an uncomfortable knot settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t remember this about him, just like she couldn’t recall such a deep level of animosity between him and Niall. But did you really know him before you agreed to marry him? Or was he just a convenient excuse to let you run away from your problems and your disappointment? The nagging voice that drifted through her thoughts only furthered her discomfort, and the food on her plate began to hold less and less appeal.
She managed to eat about half of her meal, the noise in the hall, the crowded table, and Bleddyn’s continual complaints all wearing on her as the night dragged on. Finally, she pushed her plate away, pulling her napkin from her lap and placing it on the table. Bleddyn looked at her with a frown when she stood up.
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” she told him, pushing her chair back in. “I’m retiring for the night.”
He pinned her with a cold gaze, but she refused to shrink back from it. Not tonight. For a moment, she thought he might make a fuss, but his gaze flitted around the crowded hall and he gave a curt nod.
“I’ll see you shortly,” he replied, the words clipped.
Keeping her pace slow and measured, she departed the hall. Part of her longed to run out into the gardens to breathe in the cool, silent night air and forget the miserable evening, but her exhaustion won over. Instead, she made her way across the entryway to the staircase. She had thought that this was the life she wanted, and for months now, she had told herself that it was time to be practical. She would never be a warrior, and not every woman in Pern Coen was offered the life of a Banrion. As her mother had continually reminded her, she wouldn’t get a better offer than Bleddyn’s. But even with such knowledge, the nearer the wedding drew, the less certain of herself and her choice she became.
∞∞∞
Niall was torturing himself, and yet he couldn’t seem to leave. He stood in the shadows at the top of the steps, listening to the noise that drifted up from the Great Hall. He’d had another vision after running into Ciara and though it had thankfully been in the privacy of his chambers, it had left him drained and skittish of exposing himself to others. He couldn’t risk anyone learning the truth, least of all at Ciall.
So instead, he lingered in the shadows with Rhew, listening to the world that he desperately wished to be a part of again. While he didn’t miss seeing Bleddyn, he still longed for the company of others and his chest ached at the missed opportunity of seeing Ciara again. They needed distance from one another, he knew that, but it was so easy to fall back into the companionship they’d had not so long ago. Even easier still to get lost in her gaze and feel his body react to her closeness.
He shook his head, clenching his jaw. His wants didn’t change the reality of their situation, even if knowing it left his throat painfully tight. Letting out a quiet sigh, he rubbed the top of Rhew’s head. The white wolf sat at his feet, his constant loyal companion. He’d never thrived in solitude and he dreaded to think how dark his life would have become without the wolf pack, Rhew in particular, that called Clogwyn home.
As he stroked Rhew’s head, he felt her stiffen, her golden gaze trained on the stairs. Almost too late, he heard the approaching footsteps, the noise causing his shoulders to tense and his pulse to quicken. He turned on his heel, softly calling to Rhew as he hurried back down the shadowy hallway. The wolf trotted along to catch up with him, but he wasn’t fast enough. An all too familiar voice called his name. A voice that he had always struggled to say no to.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and faced Ciara. Longing and heartache warred within him at the sight of her, leaving his chest tight. She was wearing a light green gauzy gown, the color reminding him of the young grass that would blanket the valleys every spring. Her dark hair had been piled on top of her head, a few wavy locks left down to frame her face while her diamond-studded hairpins glittered in the torchlight. She was breathtaking and he was caught in her gaze, unable to look away.
“Maura said you weren’t feeling well,” she said, her movements tentative as she closed the distance between them.
He cleared his throat, wetting his lips. “Yes, I… this afternoon took much out of me.”
She tilted her head to the side, her full lips pursing. His gaze dropped to them, his breath hitching. Lips that you have no business focusing on, he reminded himself, slightly shaking his head.
“But you’r
e feeling better now?” she asked.
“Considerably.” He paused, glancing behind her to see if anyone else was coming up the steps. “Is dinner over already?”
She looked away, biting her lip and fidgeting with her pearl bracelet.
“I left early,” she answered. “I found that I wasn’t quite up to the company.”
Her words were hollow, leaving a dull ache in his chest. She was beautiful in her expensive gown and fine jewels, there was no ignoring that, but the vibrant woman who he remembered from their youth was gone. He wanted to tell her that if she wasn’t happy in Seabhac then she shouldn’t stay, wanted to beg her to come back to Blaidd with him, but he couldn’t. That choice was hers and hers alone. And would I really want to put her through being tied to someone like me? There was a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought and he swallowed hard, shoving it aside. Rhew nudged his hand, seeking his attention and drawing Ciara’s focus.
“She’s beautiful,” Ciara said, gesturing to the wolf. “Is she friendly?”
He nodded, feeling a light flutter in his chest when Ciara looked at Rhew and her expression softened. She bent down, squatting in front of the wolf and speaking softly to her. In moments, Rhew was pressed up against Ciara’s side, happily getting her back scratched. For a moment, he saw the woman he remembered, the light back in Ciara’s eyes and the hint of a smile on her face as she scratched Rhew. The wolf was shedding white hairs all over her fine dress, but Ciara hardly seemed to care. As Rhew basked in the attention, Niall found himself oddly jealous of his wolf.
“What’s her name?” Ciara asked, Rhew leaning into her even more as she hit a particularly good spot.
“Rhew,” he answered.
“Frost,” Ciara said with a grin. “Quite fitting.”
His heart swelled with even more admiration for the brilliant woman in front of him, followed by a stab of pain as he reminded himself that a future with her would never come to pass.
“How many wolves do you have at Clogwyn now?” she asked.
“Eight, including Rhew, and another litter of pups due soon, with any luck.”
Loud voices drifted up from the entryway, breaking into their conversation and causing him to tense. The last thing he needed was to be caught in the hallway alone with Ciara. Bleddyn was already short-tempered as it was; there was no sense in making him even more so and the trade deal all the more difficult.
Ciara furrowed her brow, looking perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor. “Is something wrong?”
He rubbed a hand down his pant leg, unable to meet her gaze. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling so well again.”
“I can send for Odran,” she said, straightening.
“No.” He shook his head, backing away from her. “No, that won’t be necessary. Goodnight, Ciara.”
He turned away, calling Rhew to join him. The wolf obeyed and he heard Ciara echo her own soft goodnight, confusion evident in her voice. He kept his head down as he strode down the hallway, Rhew keeping pace at his side, while he called himself ten different kinds of fool. He shouldn’t have risked it, talking with her like he had, but there was something about Ciara that made him forget the importance of keeping those around him at arm’s length. He cursed under his breath as he walked. What he needed to do was forget her, forget their history and everything that had once been between them, but that task felt nothing short of impossible.
Chapter 9
Cold Feet
Bleddyn didn’t come to bed until late into the night, well after Ciara had turned in. The following morning was tense, Bleddyn blaming his foul mood on Niall before begging Ciara for her forgiveness. His tender words had eased some of her ire, but there was still a niggling part of her that felt like his apologies were growing hollow.
Niall was absent from breakfast, Maura once again saying that he wasn’t feeling well and wanted to save his energy for the morning’s negotiations. Bleddyn took the news far from well and for once, Ciara found herself happy to be whisked away by Eavan for a dress fitting.
Servants bustled all around her, fussing with the gown’s long train while she stared at herself in the mirror. The dress was undeniably beautiful, a soft peach color with silver beadwork and lustrous pearls interspersed into the bodice, train, and hem. She didn’t even want to know how much it had cost Bleddyn to have it imported from Kelnore. Yet, when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t feel the happiness that she had expected. At the time of his proposal, marrying Bleddyn had seemed the best way forward after being denied her dream of becoming a warrior, but now she was plagued by more doubt than certainty.
“Spirits, you’re going to be a beautiful bride,” Eavan said, clapping her hands together as she stepped back from fussing with the hem.
Ciara mustered up a smile, though it felt forced. Once the adjustments were finished, she was helped out of the extravagant dress. One of the servants assisted her in changing back into the light blue day gown Delma had chosen for her earlier that morning, Ciara holding her hair out of the way so the woman could button up the back.
“Shall we discuss the flowers next?” Eavan asked. “I’m worried the roses that Ri Bleddyn wants won’t last long enough and we’ll need an alternative.”
It was a question she should have cared about, but instead it left Ciara with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“I’ll have to think on it,” she replied.
Eavan pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Before Eavan could reel her into a discussion about the table decorations, Ciara feigned having somewhere else to be, leaving behind the large bedchamber that had been transformed for wedding preparations. Bright sunshine beckoned her from outside as she walked down the hallways, not a cloud visible in the clear blue sky.
A ride would be certain to clear her head and with any luck, she could be back at the castle before Bleddyn was finished with his meetings for the day. Back in her own chambers, she called for Delma and changed out of her gown and into a clean shirt and pants. Delma looked ill at ease as she put away the day dress, but she kept quiet while Ciara braided her hair and pulled on her boots.
After assuring Delma that she would be back in a few hours, Ciara left the room and used a servant’s entrance to slip out to the stable. The rays of sun were chasing off the chill of the day and she easily caught Rhosyn, bringing the mare up to the stable. After tying her in the aisle, Ciara went into the tack room, only to find the dreaded sidesaddle still awaiting her. I suppose I’m just going to have to ride bareback again, she thought, grabbing a grooming kit and walking back out to Rhosyn.
The mare half-dozed, cocking a back foot, while Ciara brushed her. She had just grabbed Rhosyn’s bridle and thrown the reins over the mare’s head when a stern call stopped her. Ciara half-turned to see one of Bleddyn’s warriors—Berach, if she recalled correctly—striding toward her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked him.
“If you’re going to ride, Ri Bleddyn has insisted that you do not go beyond the stable yard,” he answered.
She stiffened, biting back the sharp retort that came to mind. “And why is that?”
“For your safety.”
The absurd statement made her grit her teeth, but judging by Berach’s tight jaw and furrowed brow, she wouldn’t get anywhere by arguing with him.
“Well,” she said, taking the reins off Rhosyn and setting the bridle aside. “I suppose I won’t be going for a ride then after all.”
“Probably for the best, Mistress Ciara.”
Berach gave her a short bow, but she didn’t wait for him to leave before untying Rhosyn and leading the mare down the stable aisle. Better the insufferable man at least think that she was compliant. Once outside, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Berach had gone back to his guard duties. She led Rhosyn around the back side of the stable, out of the sight of the warriors. Her pulse quickened as she began to make reins out of the lead line and when she heard Niall’s voice, she jumped.
“I take i
t you’re still going out anyway?” he asked as he walked up to her, Rhew at his side.
She tightened her hold on Rhosyn’s lead, angling herself toward him. Apparently, he had overheard her conversation with Berach. “Are you planning on telling?”
“No.”
She nodded, swallowing hard before turning back to Rhosyn.
“I could come with you,” he said. “If you’d like.”
“Worried that I may need protection?” She winced as soon as the clipped words left her lips. She was beginning to think that life with Bleddyn did bring out the worst in her, but when she glanced at Niall, she saw him looking back at her with a crooked smile.
“I think you bested me enough times growing up for me to know better than that. I just so happen to admire your boldness and enjoy your company.”
A ridiculous flutter settled in her chest. As a friend, she sternly told herself. He enjoys your company as a friend.
“If you want to come,” she said, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on Rhosyn. “I won’t stop you.”
“I’ll go get Gealach.”
She heard him begin to walk away, but he only made it a few steps before he paused and looked back at her.
“Shall I liberate your saddle and bridle for you while I’m inside?” he asked.
Mirth danced in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile. “If you think you can do so without drawing too much attention to yourself, my bridle would be appreciated.”
He held a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Such little faith. I won’t be long.”
Flashing her a grin, he walked back toward the stable, his wolf trotting along happily beside him. Ciara couldn’t help but shake her head at him, laughing softly as he left. There were those who found his impish nature foolish, but she had always appreciated his ability to make her laugh, even on the worst of days.
A few moments later, he returned with a saddled Gealach, an eager Rhew, and Rhosyn’s bridle in hand. She murmured her thanks before taking the bridle and slipping it onto Rhosyn’s head while he mounted. With the aid of a nearby fence, she sprung onto Rhosyn’s back, Niall watching her with a smile. Her mare was slightly unnerved by the sight of Rhew, but Niall’s stallion appeared unbothered by the white wolf.
The Betrayer: Tales of Pern Coen (Legacy Book 1) Page 7
