Page 20 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

C iaran slept for a few hours, back in that familiar, narrow bed. It was hardly a deep, restful sleep, not when his mind was so full and busy, but his exhausted body much appreciated the chance to rest. He wasn’t young enough to keep up this kind of pace - dives into the sea, hard rides cross country, sleeping on the bare ground. As he awoke from his sleep, he felt aches and pains all over his body, and almost groaned aloud. Thank goodness Comgall had found an honorable retirement for him.

As Ciaran stood up and stretched, all the whirl of emotions rushed back to him.

Sadie. Comgall’s words of advice.

And he knew that his king was right. He had to tell her the truth about his feelings. Even if she rejected him, even if she laughed in his face or told him that she wanted to leave, he had to tell her the truth.

With that thought in mind, he threw his heavy cloak around his shoulders and headed off to dinner.

He was still a little early, and the great hall was full of people milling about, not yet seated. This was the main social event of the day for those important enough to warrant a place here in the hall, and many used the socializing possibilities to their full advantage. Ciaran drifted around the hall, politely greeting a few old acquaintances. Old habits died hard, and it was almost impossible for him to relax in a gathering like this. He kept one eye on Comgall, up on the dais, but the other eye constantly roamed the room, looking for Sadie. Where was she? Surely one of the servants would bring her here.

People drifted in through the door in small groups, but still there was no sign of Sadie. Ciaran began to wonder if he should go and look for her.

And there she was. Standing in the doorway, dressed in a gown of softest violet wool, her hair catching the last light of the evening like some goddess of the sunset. Ciaran could barely stop his jaw from dropping. The dress fit her to perfection, outlining every inch of her body as if it had been made for her. He strode forwards, extending a hand to her, and his heart leaped with joy when she smiled to see him. She let him take her hand and lead her into the room, towards the top table where Comgall’s most powerful lords sat.

“Hello,” she whispered shyly, and Ciaran’s heart jumped again.

“Hello,” he whispered in reply, pulling her a little closer against him, and ignoring all the glances thrown their way. “You look beautiful.”

Sadie blushed a little, her cheeks flushing the perfect shade of rose.

“I feel a bit ridiculous in this dress, but the maid said it was a gift from the queen, so I could hardly refuse.”

Ciaran would have to thank Bethany later.

“It’s perfect,” he told her. You’re perfect .

The words didn’t quite come out, but that didn’t matter. He still had time.

With a flourish from a hunting horn, dinner was announced, and everyone headed for their seats. Ciaran helped Sadie up the steps to the dais, and seated her at the end of the table. Not all Comgall’s lords were currently at Dunadd, so there would be plenty of space. The royal couple themselves were some distance away, in the center of the table, but Bethany raised a hand in greeting, and Matthew waved enthusiastically. Ciaran saw a few people noting the exchange with interest. And no wonder, when so many people must recognize the flaming red hair of the woman who’d tried to kill Comgall.

Sadie remained quiet all through dinner. Ciaran reminded herself that she must be very tired, and that this must be all very overwhelming for her, but he could not help feeling a little dispirited. Perhaps Comgall was wrong, and he should not push forwards with this. But his heart sang with such hope at even the thought of her love, that he knew he could not back down now.

“Sadie, can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, as the final plates were cleared away.

She looked startled.

“Of course. Please, speak.”

He realized he had not made himself clear.

“No, can I speak to you alone?” he asked. “Outside, perhaps.”

The hall was stuffy and loud - hardly the place for a romantic conversation. His mind raced through all the places they could go. Up on the topmost rocks, perhaps, with a view out over the sea. Yes, that would be perfect.

“You want us both to go outside? Now?” Sadie asked.

Ciaran hesitated. He really had rushed into this, with no time for thought. Shouldn’t he have brought her a gift? Some kind of small love token? Well, too late to worry now. He must simply push ahead. But, wait. He did have something.

“I just need to fetch something from my room,” he said. “Can you meet me outside in just a few moments? Head up to the top of the hill fort, where the rocks are. I’ll find you there.”

Sadie bit her lip, looking nervous, but she still nodded. Ciaran narrowly resisted the urge to plant a kiss on her beautiful mouth. Instead, he squeezed her hand beneath the table, then rushed off.

Even in the chaos of his unexpected dip in the sea, Ciaran had not left all his possessions behind. On the inside of his shirt, close to his heart, he always wore a tiny golden brooch, cast in the outline of a horse. It had been his mother’s brooch, once upon a time, and it was the last thing he had left of her. If Sadie accepted his love, this would be the perfect token to give her. He slipped it out of his old shirt and gripped it in his hand, the metal warming from the heat of his skin.

It was time.

He slipped back out of his room and made his way back up past the hall, towards the rocky summit. He was almost there when something caught his eye in the glow of a torchlight. Sadie, a black cloak around her shoulders, and her hair glowing brightly, stood almost-hidden between two buildings.

“Sadie,” he called, striding towards her with his hands outstretched. She flinched back into the shadows.

“It’s alright,” he said, alarmed at her reaction. If she acted like this at even a hint of his touch, was she really ready to hear the truth of his heart?

“Sadie, I’m so glad you agreed to meet me out here,” he whispered, stepping closer to her. All thoughts of sea views and breathtaking romance were swept from his mind as he stared down at the shadowy outline of her beautiful face. She said nothing, just stared up at him. His heart skipped a beat. Did she already know?

“I have to tell you the truth,” he said, gathering all his courage for something more terrifying than any battle he had ever fought. “Sadie, I want you to know that, no matter what, despite everything that’s happened, and everything that might happen - I love you.”

She said nothing, although her eyes widened.

The silence stretched out between them as he clung to her hands.

Why wouldn’t she say anything? He let her hands drop and took a step backwards, trying to clear his thoughts.

And then he noticed. Under her heavy black cloak, this woman wore a dress of dark green wool. This was not Sadie.