A servant hurried in with the tea.
“Leave it please,” Moira said. “I’ll pour. Is food being sent to the parlor?”
The young girl curtseyed. “Aye, Your Majesty. The cook was seeing to it when I left with the tea.”
“Thank you. That’s all then.”
Moira sat, poured out the tea. “There’s biscuits as well. It’s good to have small pleasures in hard times.”
“It’s pleasures in hard times I need to speak with you about.”
Moira passed the cup. “Is there something I can do to ease your heart? Sinann’s and the children’s?”
“There is.” Deirdre took a small sip of the tea before setting the cup aside. “Moira, your mother was my dearest friend in this world, and so I sit here in her stead, and I speak to you as I would my own daughter.”
“I’d have it no other way.”
“When you spoke of this war that’s upon us, you spoke of no choice. But there are other choices you’ve made. A woman’s choices.”
Understanding, Moira sat back. “I have.”
“As queen, one who’s claimed herself a warrior, one who’s proven herself as one, you have the right, even the duty, to use any and all weapons that come to your hand to protect your people.”
“I do, and I will.”
“This Cian who comes here from another time and place. You believe the gods sent him.”
“I know it. He fought by your own son. He saved my life. Would you sit here and look at me, and damn him as Tynan’s mother damned him?”
“No.” Deirdre took a careful breath. “In this matter of war, he is a weapon. By using him you may save yourself, my sons, all of us.”
“You’re mistaken,” Moira said evenly. “He’s not to be used like a sword. What he’s done, and what he will do to cut out this blight, he does of his own will.”
“A demon’s will.”
Moira’s eyes chilled. “As you like.”
“And you’ve taken this demon to your bed.”
“I’ve taken Cian to my bed.”
“How can you do this thing? Moira, Moira.” She reached out her hands. “He’s not human, yet you gave yourself to him. What good can come of it?”
“Much has already, for me.”
Deirdre sat back a moment, pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Do you think the gods sent him to you for this?”
“I can’t say. Did you ask yourself that question when you took my uncle?”
“How can you compare?” Deirdre snapped. “Have you no shame, no pride?”
“No shame, and considerable pride. I love him, and he loves me.”
“How can a demon love?”
“How can a demon risk his life, time and again, to save humanity?”
“It’s not his bravery I question, but your judgment. Do you think I’ve forgotten what it is to be young, to be stirred, to be foolish? But you’re queen, and you have responsibility to your crown, your people.”