Page 19 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

C iaran found that his old room, barely more than a cubbyhole off the main hall, was still unoccupied. He stowed his few belongings under the bed and sat down for a second. How things had changed. The man who’d once lived in this room had never expected to become lord of his own island. But Ciaran’s loyalty had paid off, and now he was far more than a guard.

But old instincts could not quite be abandoned. Something was still wrong here, Ciaran knew it for sure. Comgall was not safe.

“She’s very pretty.”

Comgall himself was standing in Ciaran’s doorway, leaning on the door frame. Ciaran jumped a little. When had he become so sloppy as to let someone creep up on him.

“Who’s pretty?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

Comgall rolled his eyes and came to sit beside him on the bed.

“Sadie. You turned to look at her every few seconds, man.”

Ciaran stiffened a little.

“It’s not my job to consider her pretty,” he told his king. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

Comgall sighed.

“You’re not my bodyguard any more, Ciaran. You’re a warlord in your own right, and your decisions are yours to make.”

“I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe,” Ciaran said stubbornly.

“Then I can only hope that this Sadie is no threat to me,” Comgall said, a little sadly. “I don’t want you finding yourself forced to choose. That can only ever result in pain.”

Ciaran’s eyes widened.

“You know I would always choose you,” he said. “I owe you my unwavering loyalty.”

Comgall shrugged slightly.

“I’ve never doubted your loyalty. But you’ve never been in love before, either. I want you to be happy, old friend.”

“I’m not in love,” Ciaran said automatically. He couldn’t even think those words. In love? In love with a mysterious, untrustworthy stranger, whose sister had tried to kill the king? Who might be part of a complex plot to tear apart everything Ciaran held dear? Impossible.

“If you say so,” Comgall said, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “I seem to once remember having a similar conversation with you about Bethany.”

“That was different,” Ciaran insisted, but he remembered all too well that his king had been confused and overwhelmed when it came to accepting his feelings for Bethany.

It had been different, though. Bethany had also been suspected of involvement in a plot against Comgall, but she’d clearly been innocent. With Sadie, Ciaran couldn’t be so sure. He couldn’t let himself trust her.

“We’ll find her sister and uncover the truth,” Comgall said softly. “You’ll have your answers.”

Ciaran couldn’t stop the tiny bubble of hope that began to grow somewhere deep in his chest. What if Sadie was innocent? What if he could prove that for sure, and ask her to stay with him? But no.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice and heart heavy. “Whatever happens, she’d never want to stay with me.”

“You might be surprised,” Comgall said. “Love can do some incredible things.”

“She doesn’t love me,” Ciaran said quickly. “I’m not even sure if she likes me.”

“And what about you?” Comgall asked, his voice calm and steady. “Be honest with me. Do you love her?”

Ciaran didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want it to be real. But he thought of the dawn light on Sadie’s hair, the soft curve of her smile, the anger and passion in her kiss, the fear in his heart when he’d seen her splashing in the waves, all that distance away.

“Yes, I do,” he said, hearing the words as if someone else spoke them. “I love her.”

“Then I will do everything I can to help the both of you,” Comgall said solemnly. “Justice must be done, but I swear I will do everything in my power to help you.”

“Thank you,” Ciaran said, his mind still reeling from the magnitude of what he’d declared. “But what do I do now?”

“Start with the most important thing,” Comgall advised gravely. “Go to your lady, and tell her how you feel.”

“She’ll laugh at me,” Ciaran protested.

Comgall just raised an eyebrow, and Ciaran sighed. No, of course Sadie wouldn’t laugh at him. She wasn’t that cruel - and besides, they’d already shared enough that his words couldn’t be entirely unexpected. Could they? What if he’d imagined that tenderness in her kisses?

“Bethany seems to like her,” Comgall said unexpectedly.

That came as a shock.

“Even when she looks so much like the woman who tried to kill you?”

Comgall shrugged.

“My wife does not judge people by the actions of their families. You should know that.”

Ciaran nodded. Bethany and Comgall both had enough dark history in their families. No wonder Bethany would choose not to judge Sadie for her sister’s actions.

Still, though. Even if Bethany could learn to trust Sadie, could Ciaran do the same? Would this new, delicate feeling of love prove to be strong enough?