“I live and breathe that responsibility, every moment, every day.”
“And at night you bed a vampire.”
Unable to sit any longer, Moira rose, moved to the window. The sun still shone, she thought, bright and gold. It sparkled on the grass, on the river, on the gossamer wings of dragons who flew lazy loops around Castle Geall.
“I don’t ask you to understand. I demand your respect.”
“Do you speak to me as
my niece, or as the queen?”
She turned back, framed by the window and the sunlight. “The gods have deemed me both. You come to me out of concern, and that I accept. But you also come with condemnation, and that I don’t. I trust Cian with my life. It’s my right, my choice, to trust him with my body.”
“And what of your people? What of those who question how their queen could take one of these creatures of darkness as lover?”
“Are all men good, Aunt? Are they all kind and good and strong? Are we as we’re made, or how we choose to make ourselves thereafter? I’ll say this about my people, about those I’ll give my life fighting to defend. They have more important things to worry about, to think about, to talk about than what their queen does in the privacy of her bedchamber.”
Deirdre got to her feet. “And when this war is over, will you continue this? Will you put this thing you love on the throne at your side?”
The sun still shone, Moira thought again, even when the heart goes bleak. “When this is over, if we live, he’ll go back to his time and his place. I’ll never see him again. If we lose, I’ll give my life. If we win, I’ll forfeit my heart. Don’t speak to me of choices, of responsibilities.”
“You’ll forget him. When this is done, you’ll forget him and this momentary madness.”
“Look at me,” Moira said quietly. “You know I won’t.”
“No.” Deirdre’s eyes swam with tears. “You won’t. I’d spare you from this.”
“I wouldn’t. Not a moment of it. I’ve been more alive with him than I ever was before, or will be again. So no, not a moment of it.”
They were all gathered in the parlor around the table and food when Moira came in. Glenna reached over to remove a cover from the plate at the head of the table.
“It should still be warm,” she told Moira. “Don’t waste it.”
“I won’t. We need to eat, to stay strong.” But she stared at the food on her plate as if it were bitter medicine.
“So.” Blair gave her a bright smile. “How’s your day been so far?”
The laugh, however quick and humorless, eased some of the knots in Moira’s stomach. “Crappy. That would be the word, wouldn’t it?”
“Right down to the ground.”
“Well.” She made herself eat. “She’s struck at us, as is her habit, to incite fear and carve away at morale and confidence. Some will believe what she had Sean tell us. That if we surrender, she’ll leave us in peace.”
“Lies are often more attractive than the truth,” Glenna commented. “Time’s running out either way.”
“Aye. We, we six, will have to make preparation to leave the castle, head toward the battleground.”
“Agreed.” Hoyt nodded. “Before we do, we’ll need to be certain the bases we’ve set up are still in our hands. If Tynan was killed, they may have taken that stronghold. We’ve only the word of a demon it was the child who killed him, and him alone.”
“It was the child.” Cian drank tea that was nearly half whiskey. “The wounds on the body,” he explained. “They weren’t made by a full-grown vampire. Still, it doesn’t answer if the strongholds are still secured.”
“Hoyt and I can look,” Glenna said.
“I’ll want you to, but looking isn’t enough.” Moira continued to eat. “We need to gather reports from those who survived.”
“If they did.”
She looked at Larkin and felt what he felt. The constant thrum of fear for Oran.