The Iron Crown (The Darkest Court) - Page 56

“An impressive display of devotion,” Thorburn muses. “Well, if you ever tire of riding the Wylds, there’s a place for you in our village. I always enjoy your company, poet.”

“I’ll remember that.” I might. In truth, I’ll probably forget his offer the moment he walks away. But his gesture is kind.

When I offer nothing else, Thorburn glances around. Friendly challenges fly back and forth between clans, with Resnik and his retainers issuing most of them.

“Do you know if the thegn has any additional work we can help with?” Thorburn asks. “I know we’re the last to arrive, but we want to pull our weight.”

“You’re not the last,” Lugh says. He’s finally abandoned Voll to join us, and he greets Thorburn with a smile. He waits for Thorburn’s respectful half bow, aware of the Mainlanders who have finally left the hall to watch, before reaching out to give him a one-armed hug. “I believe hunting or wood gathering are the only tasks remaining though.” I must make a face because Lugh chuckles. “Tell us how you really feel about collecting more firewood, Keiran.”

“Gods, a hunt would give a welcome stretch of the legs.” Thorburn looks between me and Lugh eagerly. “Should we put together a party?”

“Voll’s already started asking for volunteers,” Lugh says. It’s a simple statement and could never be taken for a dismissal, but he knows Thorburn’s competitiveness well. After a swift goodbye and the promise to catch up at supper, Thorburn is off through the crowd, yelling for Voll. Once he’s gone, Lugh heaves a soft sigh and leans closer, his shoulder pressing against my arm. The flutter in my gut wasn’t there when Thorburn touched me. It grows the longer Lugh and I stand together, leaning against each other’s weight.

“It’s nice to have them with us,” he remarks quietly. “Knowing there are allies here to support Aage is a relief.”

“They support you too, you know,” I point out. “You’ve proven yourself to them.”

“I suppose I have. I’m glad someone trusts me.” There’s a flash of sadness over his face, a moment of doubt that disappears before anyone else could catch it.

The Northern clans trust him, unlike his own Court. Unlike his mother. I nudge him gently, hoping to shake him from his thoughts. “Did you need something, seidhr?”

I can’t miss the way he watches Thorburn in the crowd. “Voll invited me to go hunting. She said they spotted a herd of deer on the edge of the meadow while they were ascending. Sounds like it’ll be an easy meal.”

“I don’t know, Lugh. It was a bad night and—”

“I want you at my side,” he says and my heart stops. It stutters back to life when he throws me a sideways, cheeky grin and adds, “I need someone to carry my trophy deer back for me.”

“Fuck off,” I growl. Before I can shove him off, he darts away, narrowly avoiding a collision with Aage.

The thegn shakes his head with resigned amusement. “Can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I?” he jokes. “Voll was looking for you, seidhr. They’re heading out.”

Lugh stands straighter, his eyes burn brighter, and his voice rises as he asks, “Will you come with me, Keiran?”

Surprisingly, Aage answers in my stead. “I had hoped to borrow him for a short spell,” he says. “Do you mind, seidhr?”

“Do you?” Lugh asks me. And, as if he’s read the worries in my mind, he adds, “Drest’s coming too. Along with our other friends.”

He’ll be safe with them. He wants to go. He’s clearly not suffering any lingering effects of last night’s terrors. And Aage’s request may be tied to Lugh’s goal of securing an open alliance. I can’t risk his failure. I can’t risk his mother separating us as punishment, not when Lugh may need me more than ever.

“Enjoy your hunt,” I say.

He brushes his hand over my shoulder, in the same spot Thorburn had,

but is gone a moment later. There’s nothing left in his wake but the lingering brightness of his smile and the urge to follow after him. Not because I truly fear for his safety, but because I want to be there when he lands a perfect shot and looks over to share his triumph with me. I want the good memories, the ones that will cover and wipe away bad nights. I selfishly want to be there because at this moment, any distance between us seems too great. Instead, I tear my gaze from his retreating back and turn to the man at my side.

Aage begins to walk the moment he’s secured my attention. We leave behind the still jubilant crowd and wander into the hall. He begins speaking once we turn into the wing our Hunt shares with him and his retainers. “Tonight’s supper should be freer with the Northern clans here.”

I nod. “You’d better be prepared to speak loudly. They’ll be rowdy, especially if the hunt goes well.”

“And you should rest your voice. They’ll have you telling stories until you fall asleep on your feet.”

He raps once on his door before pushing it open. The sight of Breoca rousing himself to wakefulness in Aage’s bed is unexpected, and the tender look Aage directs at him is even more so. I’m not sure how long I stand there, halfway into the room, dumbstruck. It’s long enough for Aage to look back at me and say, “The door, Keiran.”

I finish following him inside and then close it. Breoca doesn’t seem bothered by my presence, and Aage moves about their room without any self-consciousness.

“The clans arrived?” Breoca asks. His voice is sleep-rough and he rubs at his face with a hand before standing and stretching.

“Already off on a hunt,” Aage answers. He gestures me toward the paper-laden table in the corner of the room before returning to conversation with his most loyal retainer. And lover, it seems. “The last will arrive tomorrow?”

Tags: M.A. Grant Fantasy
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