Page 16 of Bound By Deception

Bree wanted to curl her lip at Fia’s weakness. However, she didn’t. She’d thought reading a dead woman’s words wouldn’t bother her—after all, she’d been just some foolish Marav wench. But there was a vulnerability in that entry, a deep loneliness.

Fia had been surrounded by others at the House of Maids, yet she had felt alone.

Alone.

Frowning, Bree closed the diary.

That was enough reading for tonight.

8: THE WILL OF THE KING

“YOUR MOVE.”

CAILEAN gave a brusque nod and replaced the lid upon the small clay pot sitting in front of him. He then picked it up, methodically shaking the pair of dice within.

Across the table, Torran huffed an irritated sigh.

“Don’t rush me,” Cailean growled. He shook the pot for a while longer, deliberately taking his time now, before removing the lid and looking inside. “A three and a four.”

Torran watched him carefully, his grey eyes narrowing. “Liar.”

Cailean handed the enforcer seated opposite him the cup.

Torran peered inside, his mouth quirking. “I knew it!”

Cailean frowned. Indeed, he had lied—instead of a three and a four, there were two ‘ones’ inside the pot.

“That’s your last life gone … I win,” Torran pointed out. “Three games in a row. You’re not normally this easy to read.”

Cailean reached for his tankard and took a deep pull of ale. Indeed, he was usually better at playing ‘Liar’. “I’m distracted.”

“Poor loser.” Torran flashed him a grin, his teeth gleaming in the lantern light. “Play again?”

Cailean shook his head.

“What?” Torran inclined his head. “Don’t want a fourth thrashing?”

“No.”

The two men sat in Cailean’s meeting alcove, where he’d met Fia mac Callum earlier. They often relaxed in here after they’d finished work for the day. And Cailean usually enjoyed ‘Liar’.

However, tonight, he wasn’t in the mood.

“Cheer up.” Torran set the pot down between them. “At least you aren’t wedding a hag.” He cut Cailean a sly look then. “Some of the lads got a look at your bride-to-be earlier … they say she’s—”

“Enough,” Cailean cut him off. “We aren’t discussing her.”

Torran minded him, although the glint in his eye made Cailean’s hackles rise. Aye, he’d also noted Fia’s attractiveness, and it unsettled him. Mother Gelda had promised to send her plainest Maid, yet a sensual woman with delicious curves and knowing eyes had stepped into this alcove. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Not at all what he wanted.

Meanwhile, his friend topped up his tankard from the jug by his elbow. He then viewed Cailean, his expression veiling. “Youreallydon’t want this, do you?” he asked after a few moments.

Bitterness flooded Cailean’s mouth. “I told you I didn’t.” He picked up his tankard and took another gulp. “I’m only going through with it to please the High King … he’s obsessed about continuing the druidic bloodlines.”

Torran nodded, although his brow furrowed. “For good reason … we’re dying out.”

Cailean screwed his mouth up in response. He knew all that, but let the other enforcers produce children—letthemensure there were warrior-druids for generations to come.

“There are worse things than taking a wife, you know?” Torran pointed out after a heavy pause.