Page 26 of Princess of Elm (Warriors of the Fianna #4)

H e’d made a huge mistake.

Of course one evening of fooling around wouldn’t change the way she felt about him.

Or, rather, it wouldn’t change the way she thought about him.

She clearly felt the same desire that he did for her, but Cormac wasn’t so naive that he believed desire and love to be the same.

He could see it in her face, that she even now searched for a way to let him down without hurting him overmuch.

What a fool he’d been. He, of all people, should have known better.

She’d been more than clear of her expectations.

She didn’t want a husband.

She chose him because she knew he would refuse the marriage, and now he’d gone and made a mess of it. Ignoring the ache in his chest, he decided to cut his losses and spare both of them any further embarrassment.

“We could actually wed,” he continued, cursing himself the entire time, “and if you wish to stay in Dyflin with your family, you’d be free to do so. We could have a marriage in name so that you could keep living the life that you want.”

The lights continued dancing above them, but the woman in his arms had long since claimed Cormac’s attention.

“I couldn’t do that to you.” She shook her head, tresses the color of coals in a fire brushed his face as she turned to look at him.

“I like you a lot, Cormac, and I would be lucky to marry you—any woman would. But you deserve someone who can’t wait to leave their home and follow you back to Brian’s kingdom.

Don’t waste your marriage of love on me. ”

On someone who couldn’t love him back, was what she meant. His throat clenched. Understanding stabbed him like a knife in the gut, but he’d already laid it all before her, so he may as well press on.

“It could only be you, Astrid,” he whispered, hating the truth in his words and wishing it weren’t so. “And if I could give you the life you wish, it wouldn’t be a waste.”

“I’ll think on it,” she promised, “but we should probably head back. It’s getting late, and tomorrow will be difficult.”

“What’s tomorrow?” He grasped onto the change of subject.

“ Glíma .”

He had no idea what that meant. He raised a questioning brow, tilting his head.

“Wrestling,” she explained. “It’s much like knattleikr , but without the ball and stick.”

That sounded like a difficult day, indeed.

Though Cormac had no doubt he’d be able to best Teague and Cairell, Astrid was correct that he would need his strength and rest to do so.

Collecting the blankets, they walked side by side in silence back to the holding.

She bid him a tentative goodnight when they parted, each going to their own halls, but her eyes didn’t meet his again.

When Cormac entered the guest hall, he found Diarmid, Conan, and Cara sitting in the nearest alcove on fur-covered couches.

Cara held a giant book in her hands, its pages gilded with brilliant illumination visible even from Cormac’s perch in the doorway.

Cara loved to read, and she especially loved that book—the one that Diarmid had given her as a gift just before their betrothal.

Normally, Cormac would head straight to his room to be alone and digest what had just happened, but Astrid’s response had thoroughly gutted him.

The quiet warmth of the hall soothed his damaged heart.

Perhaps this time he could find more comfort in company rather than solitude.

And so, in a decidedly uncharacteristic fashion, he walked over, taking a seat beside Conan and across from Cara and Diarmid.

His brothers stared at him expectantly, having ceased their conversation when he entered.

“Are you really going to make us ask?” Conan whined beside him.

“Are you really going to make me tell you?” Cormac grumbled.

“That bad, huh? What happened?” Diarmid leaned forward, propping his elbows on his legs.

“I told her I’d marry her. She said she’d think about it.”

Diarmid cringed. “That’s pretty bad.”

“What are you going to do?” Conan asked.

Cormac sighed. “I’m in it now. I don’t have much choice but to keep going. The deal was that I win and then refuse to marry her, even though I think that’s a terrible plan. But if that’s what she wants, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Maybe you should try talking with her again tomorrow,” Conan suggested. “Perhaps she’ll think on it and change her mind by morning.”

Cara slammed her book shut, her lips thinning in irritation as she looked first at Diarmid and then at Conan.

“Something you wish to say, dear?” Diarmid teased.

Cormac had never quite understood their relationship.

They were even more opposite one another than he and Astrid.

He loved his brother despite their differences, and Cara appeared to feel much the same, so he hadn’t really questioned it.

Watching them together, though, provided endless entertainment, even on a night like tonight when he felt so despondent.

“I cannot sit here and listen to you give him such horrid advice.” She turned to Cormac. “If Astrid says she’ll think on it, then that’s what she’ll do. If you’re desperate for a complete rejection, then by all means, ask her again tomorrow.”

“Then what advice would you give?” Cormac asked.

“Give her time.” Cara’s tone softened. “Even if she cares for you, that’s a big decision.

It will change her life in every conceivable way, and she wasn’t prepared to marry in the first place.

I’d have said much the same in her position, even if I did like you and even if I may eventually agree to a marriage. ”

“It’s true.” Diarmid nodded, shooting his betrothed a playful look. “She denied my first proposal outright by betrothing herself to another man, so,” he shrugged, “it could have gone worse for you, I suppose.”

Cormac stared agape at his brother, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that does somehow make me feel better.”

Conan stood, walking past Cormac on his way to bed. “Keep after her.” His hand fell hard on Cormac’s shoulder in solidarity. “But without bothering her, as Cara said.”

“Clear as a cloudy sky,” Cormac quipped with more amusement than he felt. “Thank you.”

“You can do it,” Diarmid agreed, offering his hand to Cara and leading her out of the alcove. Cara smiled at him encouragingly.

Cormac sat alone, listening to the crackling fire in the center of the room. He felt better and worse all at once. The part of the night with Astrid had been so magical, like they had a real connection, like she was finally letting him in. Like maybe she felt the same.

Then he’d opened his mouth and that horrible conversation had come out. That had felt like the end of everything, a dagger straight to his heart. After speaking with his brothers and Cara, he didn’t know what to think. And the idea of waiting only made him feel worse.