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“Of eating cakes?”

A small chuckle. “You know what I mean. And…what if my mate hates me for ever loving someone like Rion?”

“What if Rion is your mate?”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone, the old texts included.”

“And you believe those dusty old things?”

Arianna shrugged. “I don’t know anymore.”

Her sister laid back on Arianna’s pillows. “At least you fell in love with a Lord. Father should give you some credit in that regard.”

Arianna stopped chewing and recalled a conversation she’d had with Rion at the cabin.

“Was your family part of the council or something?”

Or something.

A Lord. How could she have forgotten? The Demon was the estranged younger sibling of Brónach’s High Lord. Their greatest disgrace. Which meant the sister he’d spoken of was Saoirse. Arianna vaguely remembered her from childhood, when they’d visited with her parents for a matter involving their countries.

Ellie waved a hand in front of her sister’s face. “You okay?”

“I forgot.”

“That he was a Lord?”

“Gods Ellie, if I can’t remember something as simple as that, how am I supposed to rule over a continent?”

“To be fair, we had a rather boring history teacher. I can’t remember half the crap she taught me.”

“I’m serious.”

Ellie clasped her hands. “Relax. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Saoirse

Saoirse leaned against the marble wall and carefully folded the note in her hand. It’d happened again. She’d spent too much time focused on work and ignored the needs of her partner.

Saoirse sighed. Màili was a beautiful female with sun-kissed skin, a knack for gardening, and a laugh that could bring a smile to the most serious warrior in the room. They’d met at a tavern six months ago when Saoirse returned from an eastern village after solving a squabble over land. It’d been the best six months of her life. And she’d ruined it.

Saoirse read the note again. A fond farewell, wishing her the best with a hopeful message they could remain friends.Yeah. Friends.

The door down the hall opened and Saoirse stuffed the letter in her pocket. Her younger brother walked down the elaborately decorated hall and she followed, her footsteps hardly a whisper against the marble floor. She passed intricate artwork hanging along the walls, scarcely paying attention to the details as she focused on the male Alec had instructed her to stay away from.

He was headed for the upper gardens. Again.

Paperwork and meetings kept her busy most days, but with Rion home, she couldn’t focus. Alec had instructed her to take some time off, and she spent it trailing her younger brother every chance she could. She should be in a war meeting right now, softening her brothers’ harsh decisions and offering her strategic advice, especially considering their recent loss.

But Rion, her younger brother, was finally home.

Alec was convinced he’d wreak havoc on their city, as he’d done so long ago. She remembered the killings. And their provocation. Her little brother had simply been on a morning stroll when the males attacked from the shadows. But Alec didn’t like to hear that side of the story. Rion would always be the one who killed their father. And she’d always be the coward who let the world believe it.