Page 19

Chapter 15 ~ Crossing Lines

Rígan

There was a fly in my teeth.

“Oh, gods.” I tried to get it out, gripping Dove’s reins with one hand as she galloped and fishing the thing out with my other. I wiped it on my trousers, horrified I had no other option. Maya was howling with laughter, clutching her side. At least Lou was trying to be discreet about it.

“Close your mouth, Maya, or you’ll catch your own,” I shot at her.

Gods, I could still taste it.

I pulled back on the reins. “Alright, slow down. Give me a moment.”

We pulled to the side of the secluded pathway Dàibhid had told us about, trees lining both sides. The path ran toward the coast, giving us the chance to ride in open air with intermittent views of Sailor’s Channel, the day bright and cloudy.

Our days had settled into a pattern: train, socialize, sleep, repeat. I spent the occasional afternoon showing Bryn around Ardanna—she even stood with me where The Crown had been, unshed tears lingering long after—others with Lou and Maya accompanying us, seamlessly bringing my sister into our fold. Twinges of guilt crept up whenever Bryn had to lie about our childhood, but she’d squeeze my hand in reassurance, and my friends bought the stories. More than once I’d had to clamp my mouth shut so I didn’t say something I couldn’t in front of them.

Today, it was just the three of us. Bryn needed more alone time than I did, so I suggested to Lou and Maya that we go for a ride. We’d been cooped up in Bailanín, anxious for our mission, for too long. We needed the change of scenery.

Dàibhid’s own anxiousness was barely contained, too. I only saw him for evening meals and the occasional short conversation in the hall—he was usually holed up in his study, collecting ink stains on his hands like tattoos—but still, it was palpable.

Not seeing him more frequently was for the best, really. When we had flirted in the training ring, I’d relished his attention. But when we’d walked away from each other, I recalled the rest of the interaction, cursing. I’d shown genuine concern for him. That may not have been bad in and of itself, but the way it had come so unbidden set off alarms. The more time I spent with him, the more comfortable I would become, and the less I’d be able to keep my guard up, toeing dangerously close to friendship territory. Part of me was on edge just thinking of the possibility.

A traitorous part wanted to see what would happen.

But more of me wanted to get the taste of fly out of my mouth and banish it from memory. I yanked an apple out of my pack and bit into it like a baby seeing cake for the first time.

Maya was still laughing. Lou joined her.

“Shut up,” I said around an indecent-sized bite. Aonbar took a step toward me like I’d share. “Oh no, you don’t. Lou probably has one for you.”

“Carrots, actually.” Lou pulled the bright orange treat from his pack, and Aonbar happily tossed her mane. “She likes them more.”

Maya grabbed carrots for Chestnut. “I see you’re coming along with the whole secondary mission.”

Lou patted Aonbar’s neck. “It’s remarkably important. Aonbar is becoming my bestest girl.”

Aonbar nudged him in agreement, searching for cuddles.

Dove leaned her weight into me.

“Yes, Dove, you’re becoming mine,” I said.

She leaned in even more, begging for a treat of her own. I relented, pulling an apple out for her.

She almost bit my fingers off.

“My bestest girl, but also my most violent.”

“She fits right in,” Maya said.

Dove snorted, stomped a hoof, and promptly begged for more food.

“So does Bryn,” Lou said. “I’m glad we finally got to meet her.”

“She does put us to shame, though,” Maya said. “She’s more thoughtful than any of us.”

“The words sound bitter, but the tone sounds admiring,” I said. From what I could tell, Maya had continued doing a lot of admiring of my sister. Lingering looks, finding excuses to be the one to take the lead in showing Bryn around, throwing the occasional subtly flirtatious remark her way.

Not that Bryn had noticed amidst her spluttering and tucking of her chin. But it was too adorable to call either of them out on it.

Maya shrugged. “I do admire her. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

Lou and I shared a knowing glance. They heard it, too. We hadn’t seen Maya show anyone any genuine interest since we’d met her; we doubted she trusted anyone with her heart after that bastard back in Nibari. We weren’t about to break the spell by talking about it.

And Bryn didn’t know if she wanted anything right now. So, natural course it was. Even though they were so damn cute around each other.

Maya paid us no attention. “Is that fly gone, Rígan, or are you savoring the meal?”

“You’re horrible.”

She winked. “I know.”

Once we’d ridden our fill, taking in impressive views and managing to haul Dove out of the damn mud she’d decided to play in on one of our stops, we headed back to the Bailanín stables.

Maya chuckled, taking in the muddy mess that was my horse. “I’m assuming you’ll be another minute or thirty?”

“Clearly.” Aonbar and Chestnut were already brushed, snug in their stalls and thoroughly loved upon. Maya had regaled Chestnut with tales of Nibari, and Lou had assured Aonbar she was the best horse at least three times.

Dove, on the other hand, had taken her sweet time getting into her stall and was refusing to stand still for a single second.

Lou gave Aonbar a final pat. “See you for dinner, then, Rígan?”

I watched my friends’ silhouettes recede until the stable door closed. The other horses had all been taken care of for the day, which left me and Dove.

I took her snout between my hands. “Their horses behave. They only had to be brushed. You need a whole bath. And since you dislike the stable hands, it seems that job is left to me.”

“I could be of assistance.”

I stumbled into Dove in my haste to turn. Dàibhid stood halfway between me and the door. Beside said door, a tin of oil lay discarded. Of course the hinges were well cared for, allowing the last person I should be alone with to sneak up on me.

I cleared away my surprise, but from the tip of his mouth, he’d seen. And found it amusing. Endearing, even? I shoved that thought aside so hard I should have given myself a headache.

I patted Dove. “Are you sure you can handle her?”

He took that as invitation to saunter up to me. He had on practical boots, his trousers—which fit his thighs spectacularly—tucked into them. He rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, and I almost drooled at the sight of forearms toned from training, a few wayward freckles dotting the skin.

I stepped to one side of Dove, putting her between us.

He finished his approach cautiously. She shifted, a subtle warning.

“She doesn’t usually like people getting close to her,” I said, but her shifting settled before stopping altogether. Dàibhid produced an apple from a nearby shelf and she accepted, calm as a clam. This many apples had to be unhealthy for her.

I watched on in stunned silence.

“I learned a while ago that I’m somewhat of an exception.” He stroked her affectionately. I was about to make a witty comment when he said, “My mother named her, you know. Was one of the only people Dove let near her.”

The comment died on my lips. I focused on Dove’s deep black coat splattered with crusted brown to prevent emotion from swelling. I hadn’t known who his mother was when we were friends, but he had spoken about her. She’d sounded kind, gentle, loving. A lot like my own mother. The thought of losing someone like that was almost too much.

“I didn’t know,” I managed to say. “Is that why Dove lets you near her? Because your mother got her comfortable with you?”

He nodded, staring into Dove’s eye like he could capture a shared memory they had of Queen Fiona. “Dove never took to Brí—wasn’t bad with her, would just ignore her—but she did take to me. Not as much as she liked my mother, mind you, and certainly not as much as she likes you. I don’t visit her as often as I should. Makes her hesitant before she remembers. It can be hard, sometimes, to see her. Since she reminds me of my mother.” Heat built in his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to share all of that. I guess I find you easy to talk to, as well.”

I walked to the corner, where a bucket of water waited beside a brush, to have something to do away from him. I never should have confessed I found him easy to talk to. “I’m sure talk of your parents sometimes slips out. I don’t mind.” I wished I did, but I didn’t.

He took up a second brush. “It slips out with Brí sometimes. But I generally keep it to myself with everyone else.”

“Why?”

“I have Thomas. Liam and Cianán. But Cianán isn’t great at making me feel better about my parents, and Thomas and Liam are still part of my guard, so I feel awkward talking to them about it even though they’re my friends. Beyond them and Brí, there isn’t anyone I can really talk to. Not without crossing lines.”

A ringing started in my ears, so I splashed Dove with the water to drown it out, getting Dàibhid and me wet in the process. I mumbled an apology over his startled squawk before saying, “I’m sorry you don’t have many people to talk to.”

And I was. His isolation as king was similar to why I wanted away from the isolation as princess, at least in part. Why his friendship when we were young was one of my most treasured possessions.

“Is it bad that I feel I can talk to you about it?” Dàibhid worked the brush through Dove’s coat. “I understand if you want me to stop, if it makes you uncomfortable.” I opened my mouth, but he added, “And please don’t think I’m ordering you either way.”

“I wasn’t thinking you were.”

He visibly untensed, like he was relieved. He grabbed another bucked of water and splashed it on Dove. Half of it got onto me.

And it was cold .

“What was that for?” I yelled through a laugh, water dripping down my shirt.

“Payback.”

I flicked water from my hair onto his face. Against my better judgment, I gave him an answer to his question. “It’s not bad that you feel you can talk to me about it. I want you to have people you can talk to.” I did. It shouldn’t have been me, but damn everything, I wanted that for him.

He wiped the water from his cheeks. “I’ll try not to make a habit of it, at least.”

A pesky hit between my ribs, a practical shot to my soul, flared. It almost felt like disappointment. Rude.

“How are you finding Bailanín?” he asked. “Your apartments are still alright?”

The hit turned warm at his consideration. “The apartments are perfect. Bigger than what we were living in before, that’s for sure. We had one main room and one bedroom. If anyone had a, well, guest over, the other two had to get creative.”

“Was there a bathroom?”

“There was. Tiny thing. Knees-up-to-the-chin-sized tub. But it worked for us.”

“Are the guard houses good? The city guard houses, I mean.”

I stopped running the brush through Dove’s mane. “They’re all pretty much the same. Even the commanders’ homes. Why do you ask?”

He moved toward Dove’s tail, horribly caked in mud. Everything was matted. She shifted her rear legs when he approached, and I wondered if I’d have to explain to Liam why his king had a collapsed chest. But a single stilling hand had her at ease. Dàibhid’s green eyes shone with love. For Dove, or his mother? Both? In any case, it melted my knees, which I told to smarten up.

He carefully ran the brush through the hair. “I like to make sure my subjects are actually being taken care of, and I trust what you tell me is true.”

I bit my tongue. Hard. I winced.

He trusted me like that? He really shouldn’t. Not when my entire life story was half-truths and diversions.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Perfectly fine.” The tip of my tongue made it hard to speak. It was obvious I’d hurt it. “Managed to bite my tongue while not even eating.”

He chuckled. “Done that. I’m glad to hear the lodgings are acceptable.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Except maybe the tubs.”

I laughed. “The tub here is certainly a step up. I can actually lounge in it.” Like the one in my childhood bedroom. The first bath I’d taken in Bailanín had sent me slipping in the tub, banging my head on the metal and twisting my knee weirdly, all because I’d remembered I hadn’t seen a tub that nice in three years.

Once I’d gotten past that, the baths had been lovely.

“And the training court?” he asked. “It’s working well?”

“It’s exactly what we need.”

“And the food?”

“Dàibhid.”

He looked up, startled by my firm tone. I was just as startled by it. It was reserved for when Lou’s mind was wandering too far, when Maya’s stubbornness became too much even for me, when Bryn refused to acknowledge her own feelings.

It was reserved for friends. Family.

I had to stop myself from biting my tongue again and force myself to commit to the moment. I was being friendly. Friendly people still chatted and gave validation.

“Everything is great. Truly. And you just said you believe what I say is truth, so you can’t question it.”

His shoulders dropped a little, more at ease. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Good. There was a lot about me I didn’t want him questioning.