Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [25]
"Fascinating," Lord Tiernan repeated, stroking his beard. "I may just try it."
"You can't be serious!" his wife said with asperity.
"Why not?" For the first time, he gave me a smile with a hint of warmth in it. "After all, we've tried everything else. And it seems to me that when one is given advice by a beautiful young lady who talks to plants, one ought to heed it."
That didn't sit well with her. Fortunately, the sun was sinking beneath the horizon. When we returned to the hall, I professed myself exhausted and begged their leave to retire for the night. It was true, I was worn out from the unfamiliar strain of being around strangers. Aislinn graciously showed me to a guest-chamber even smaller than any I'd seen. I took off her borrowed dress and folded it carefully, uncoiled and unbraided my hair with an effort, then curled up in a proper bed with clean-smelling linens and tried to sleep.
I couldn't, not for the life of me.
I'd left my door ajar and I could hear the unfamiliar sounds of human activity—boots scuffing, dishes clattering. I tried shutting the door, but then the trapped feeling closed in on me. After what was surely the better part of two hours, I gave up and resolved to slip out unseen and pass the night outdoors.
It was agonizingly difficult to summon the twilight, something that came as second nature to me at home. Somehow it was all different here in this hall built by men's hands with history carved into every stone.
Mine was a gift meant to be used by wild folk in wild places, and I'd suffered myself to be tamed today.
Now that was a fearful thought.
But I made myself be calm and remember, and at last it came. I stole out of the chamber with a profound sense of relief.
The great hall wasn't empty. There was a sentry drowsing in a chair by the doors—and of course, the doors were barred. I paused, realizing that I'd likely wake him if I left, and wondered if it was worthwhile.
And then I realized that Lord Tiernan and Lady Caitlin were sitting in high-backed chairs before the hearth, speaking in low tones.
About me.
"… don't care if it's rational or not, I don't like her!" she was saying. "There's something sly and uncanny about that girl." There was a quiet note of despair in her voice. "Will you tell me you don't see it, too?"
I hoped he would. Uncanny, I'd grant her, but sly seemed unfair. Although given the particular circumstances, I'd be hard put to argue it.
"No," Lord Tiernan said slowly. "No, I do. I'll grant that she's not what I'd choose for a daughter-in-law."
"And yet Cillian's utterly besotted!" The note of despair gave way to hushed fury. "Why ever didn't you put a stop to it?"
He sighed. "I hoped the winter would cool his ardor. Two years ago, it seemed his fancy was passing."
"Two years ago, she was still a stripling child," she said darkly. "Now… oh, gods! What does she want with him?"
"I don't know," Lord Tiernan murmured.
I curled my toes in an agony of indecision. Part of me yearned to flee, part to retreat. And a third considerable part longed to reveal myself and' shout at them that I'd never wanted aught of Cillian but for him to be my friend, and later, lover. It was hardly my fault he was muddling everything up with this talk of marriage.
"Mayhap we could bargain with her," Lady Caitlin mused. "They say the Old Ones like to make bargains, and I suppose she's one of them, whatever else she might be. Do you suppose we might bribe her to leave him alone?"
"With what?" He sounded weary. "They may choose to live like savages, but they're blood royal nonetheless. It's not as though I haven't offered our hospitality over the years. Money?" He shook his head. "They don't lack for it. There's a trust held in keeping for all of the descendants of Alais' line in Bryn Gorrydum, which Fainche knows perfectly well."
I blinked. She did?
"It's Fainche that disappoints me." Now Lord Tiernan sounded bewildered and angry. "Have I not always honored her choices? Why does she send her daughter to bewitch my only son?"
I'd heard enough.