Page 55

Arianna eyed her mate, studying the chaos of emotions that radiated down their bond. The feelings were muddled, like a veil stood between them. His agitation was the only thing she sensed loud and clear.

“Right. The tour. Inside, you’ll find a vast library where you’ll be completing most of your studies. It’s the only thing that competes with the garden’s beauty. I’ll look forward to hearing which you prefer. Everyone seems to have a preference.”

Arianna already knew which she’d prefer. Books had always held a special place in her heart. But before her mind could wander she asked, “Studies?”

Niall angled himself to look at her while they walked. “You might know Móirín’s history, but you have three other countries to learn about now. Some records we’ve lost to the ages, but a vast majority of our ancient knowledge resides in old tombs carefully preserved in our library.”

“And I’ll be expected to memorize it all?”

Niall laughed. “Gods, no. There’s not a final exam.” His eyes sparkled. “There’s even a few texts written in a language we can’t translate.”

“No one knows it?”

He shook his head. “Decoding it hasn’t proven successful. Some scholars will even claim the books change, shifting letters and symbols."

She raised a brow and Niall continued. “They say the books are cursed and refuse to touch them. Others believe they’re written in the language of the gods and our minds aren’t able to process the knowledge.” He shrugged. “Maybe one day they’ll share their secrets.”

“That’s sad,” she said. To know there were histories they couldn’t access, that some piece of their everlasting lives could just be gone. They were Fae, history wasn’t supposed to fade into nothing. But how many Fae did she know who’d lived a thousand years? Her father wasn’t even that old. War and jealousy and sickness befell them just as much as humans.

“You carry weapons here,” he said, his voice soft.

Arianna had thought she’d done a decent job at hiding those on her waist, but the knife in her boot was easy enough to see.

Arianna looked him over, cursing herself for not identifying whether he carried any. She was sure Rion had, but—

“Do you not?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Only the guards do. I understand you went through quite the ordeal, but—”

“You understand nothing,” Rion said between clenched teeth. It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the manor and his tone made the hair rise on her arms. “And if you think for one second that Arianna is going to walk this place unarmed . . .” He didn’t need to finish his sentence.

Niall raised his hands in defense. “I only meant to say that it might make a few uncomfortable. The citizens may believe you don’t trust them.”

“Because we don’t,” Arianna said. And why would they? They were strangers. Complete strangers, no matter what their promises.

To her surprise, hurt flashed across his face and his gaze traveled toward her wrists. They were covered by the long sleeves of her shirt, but she couldn’t resist tugging them down.

“I suppose not,” he said simply. “But I hope, given time, I’ll be able to earn your trust and that of your companions.”

“Me, too.” Two years ago, she might have trusted this male already. She might have spilled her secrets at his easy smile. Done anything he and the council asked of her.

But those days were long gone. The world had shown its cruel ugly face in the years since her kidnapping and she’d sworn the people she cared for would never suffer the same fate.

Another easy smile and they rounded the manor, walking along the back side. “This is the only place on Alastríona where the four nations work together. Those from Fiadh keep the fires burning in our hearths and stoves. Aside from your room, of course, as a safety precaution. Those from Móirín keep our waters clean and flowing. They feed the plant life grown from the Fae of Brónach, thus both keep us fed. As a bonus, we’re able to enjoy sights such as the ones before you.”

“And Pádraigín?” she asked.

He smiled. “We keep this place hidden from the world and remind those of home when they need it.”

“I’ve never met an illusionist,” she admitted. Not even in the time she’d been kept as a slave, though she was sure none would have done her any favors.

His smile widened. “I have the ability myself, though we prefer the term glamor, as it’s not quite an illusion.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologize, My Lady, most don’t. It’s our own fault for keeping ourselves secret from the outside world. The gift has followed my bloodline since before my father can recall.” He seemed to note her curiosity. “Would you like to see it?”

Arianna bit her lip. “Do you have to touch me?” Because if he reached for her again, Rion might very well implode.