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Rion gave her a strained laugh, eyes flashing between the pieces. “And how did you react the last time a male put his uninvited hands on you?”

She sighed. “To be fair, he had it coming, but she deserves to know the truth.”

“It’s not like I can simply march into Móirín and ask her to hear me out.”

“Maybe not yet, but if what you’ve been telling me is the truth then—” Then their entire world was about to change. A simple command from this Arianna would force their two countries to reconcile. Not even Alec could deny the queen of their people.

“But I’m also responsible. If not for me abducting her, Arianna’s mother wouldn’t have died at all.”

Saoirse waved him off. “You can’t predict every tragedy. No one can, except maybe a seer, and even then, I’d be skeptical. None of us had any intention of killing her.”

“I don’t think Avalon will see it that way.”

Saoirse huffed when Rion moved another piece, knocked her king over, and sat back with his arms folded. “Checkmate.”

“How are you so good at this game if you never had anyone to play against?”

“What makes you assume I didn’t?”

“Because you’re,” she waved her arm around him, “you.”

He chuckled. “Right, because The Demon doesn’t get downtime.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just figured they’d be too scared of you to, I don’t know, sit down like this.”

“Oh, they were scared. That was half the fun.”

Saoirse huffed after a soft knock at the door. “Come in.” The knob turned, and her slave entered, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. She’d begged Saoirse to keep her as far away from Rion as possible, but Saoirse had dismissed her request. The girl would grow accustomed to her brother.

“Alec is calling for you.”

Saoirse clicked her tongue. “He can wait. I’m busy.”

She shifted, risking a glance at Rion. “He said it was urgent.”

Saoirse rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”

The female continued, wringing her skirt with her hands. “I know it’s not my place, but I overheard him talking with Lord Isaac.” Saoirse paused to listen. “It sounded like Fiadh was attacking Móirín.”

Rion’s heart skipped, and he was on his feet before she’d even registered the words. “Tell him we’re on our way.” The female bowed and fled from the room. Earth sprang up from his satchel, circling the table at the sound of Móirín’s name. She stared at it, marveling at the strange magic that set him so far apart from everyone else.

Saoirse followed Rion’s hurried steps through the halls as they rushed toward the throne room. She often had the girl relay information, but for Alec to drop an important piece so casually meant he’d wanted her slave to overhear. So she wouldn’t waste time.

Rion’s boots echoed off the walls as they rounded the last corner. The fear radiating from him was almost palpable, and she wasn’t sure how Alec would react to their little brother barging in with magic flying. It wasn’t as though either of them had shown signs of reconciliation.Nor would they.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Alec relied on Rion for his strategic skills. It was why, despite his demeanor, Alec had appointed Rion as the general of their military forces. Sure, it got him out of the palace, but Rion had never lost a battle. So long as one didn’t count the most recent failure.

Rion shoved the doors open and was across the room before she could intervene. Those stationed to guard Alec drew their weapons, placing themselves between their High Lord and The Demon, but Rion didn’t so much as look at them.

“Is Fiadh making a move against Móirín?”

Alec’s eyes flashed toward her, but they weren’t reprimanding. It wasn’t as if she could control Rion’s actions any more than he could.

“Yes.” Alec swirled his glass of wine, returning his gaze to the maps spread across the table before him. “Our scouts noticed their advancement two days ago.”

“How many?”

Alec eyed him. “Ten thousand.”