Page 32 of Bound By Deception

“Just call me Fia,” Bree replied, picking up an oatcake for herself. “The formality gets tiring.”

Mirren started at this before giving a hesitant nod.

Bree spread butter and honey upon her oatcake and took a bite. Theseweregood. She finished her first oatcake swiftly and prepared a second, which she handed to Mirren, who was nibbling at her breakfast with one eye on Bree.

The lass was still wary around her, cowed by their difference in rank. Bree wouldn’t get any valuable details from her unless trust was established.

“Are you from Duncrag, Mirren?”

Her handmaid nodded. “I’m the youngest of five daughters. My Da is an ironsmith.”

Bree suppressed the urge to pull a face at this proud admission. It wasn’t surprising though; Duncrag was full of them. “And do you have a man … any bairns?”

Mirren shook her head, her pale skin flushing once more. “My father had debts to pay, so he sold me into the High King’s service. I have more rights than a slave, but as an indentured servant, I cannot take a husband.”

Bree frowned at this. Likely, most of the Marav knew of such an arrangement and wouldn’t think it strange. Nonetheless, there were many things in this world that were new to Bree, and she had to navigate them carefully. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

Mirren pulled a face. “Not yet.” She paused then, a shadow flitting across her features. “It’s an honor to serve the High King.” Her voice was a little wooden as she ducked her head. “I need nothing else.”

Bree snorted. “You’re young and fair … just because you can’t wed, there’s no need to deny yourself of pleasure.” Mirren looked mortified at this comment, but Bree continued. “Why not take a lover in secret?”

Mirren froze in her seat, flushing a deep red this time.

“Is there someone you’ve noticed?” Bree asked, pretending not to see her embarrassment.

“No,” Mirren gasped quickly—too quickly.

“Liar. Who is he?”

Mirren cut her gaze away and reached for the cup of milk that she’d just poured.

“Come on … I won’t tell anyone.”

“His name is Torran,” the handmaid whispered. “He’s an enforcer … your husband’s second-in-command.”

Bree’s mouth pursed. Seeing her reaction, Mirren’s brow furrowed. “They’re not forbidden to take lovers,” she assured Bree, clearly thinking propriety was the issue. She paused then, her features tightening. “I stay away from most of the enforcers though. They’re rough and aggressive … with hungry gazes and filthy mouths.” She halted then, alarm rippling across her face. “Not the chief-enforcer though … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Bree waved her apology away. “I know you weren’t talking about him,” she reassured the lass. “So, this Torran … he’s not like the others?”

Mirren shook her head.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Gods, no. He doesn’t know I breathe.”

Bree observed Mirren silently for a few moments. “Maybe it’s time he noticed you.”

“I can’t approach him.” Mirren’s voice was strangled now. “I’d die if he talked to me.”

Bree snorted. “Don’t be a fool. He’s an enforcer … not The Warrior himself.”

Mirren giggled at this, the flush on her cheeks fading, and Bree, to her surprise, found herself smiling in response.

15: MARKET DAY

TAKING A TORCH, Bree descended the steps underground.

If anyone stopped her, she’d say she was visiting the healer. However, it wasn’t Eldra she was searching for this morning, but Bryce. She had to hurry though, for she was accompanying Princess Lara to market later in the morning.