The girl, racked with sobs, raised her dark curly head.
‘Hellfire, it’s Millie!’I cried, pulling at Cillian’s hand to stop.
‘Keep walking, Caris,’ Cillian growled, tightening his grip.
‘We have to help her!’
‘And have them accuseyouof something?Because that’s how it starts.One woman is Cursed, then they start looking for more.’
I swallowed my words.He was worried for me.Or had he guessed?Could he tell?
I let Cillian pull me home and lead me up the stairs to my room.
‘Lock the door behind me,’ he said.
I nodded.
‘Things will be calmer in the morning.’
‘What will they do to Millie?’
‘She will be taken to the fortress dungeon.Then, if she’s lucky enough to get one, she will face a trial in Capita.There’s nothing we can do for her, Caris.’He cupped my cheek, two deep lines forming between his eyes as he looked at me.‘Goodnight.’Then he was gone.
Even though I was exhausted, I didn’t fall asleep.
Poor Millie.She was accused of healing a hurt child, yet she was treated as if she had done something evil.Cillian had been terrified for me.Was it because of what happened to his wife?Had a woman close to him been Cursed?
Cillian had awoken feelings in me I didn’t want.I was not worthy of his attentions and was conflicted about what to do next.
I wanted to enter the tournament.To win and become Lord Warwick’s guard would give me access to the fortress to search for my mother’s killer.It would be the perfect opportunity to get close to the man with icy blue eyes, and I would use that chance to kill him.
So much could go wrong.Only men could enter.I would have to pretend and risk being arrested for deceiving everyone.I could die in the tournament.
If I went through with this, I would be sacrificing what was growing between Cillian and me.
What was I giving up?A chance at love?A home with a family of my own?I could only have those things with Cillian if I gave up what I came to Murus to do.
Could I live with myself knowing that my mother’s killer was still out there?
CHAPTER 5
It was the eve of the tournament, and almost all the new orders had left the shop with satisfied customers.After weeks of armour, swords and helmets stacked high in every available space, the shop looked empty.
‘A set of armour hasn’t been collected,’ Cillian mumbled as he looked through the order sheets to see who hadn’t returned for it.
‘I’m sure they’ll come, and if not, you can put it in your shop,’ I replied, laying a carefully wrapped sword on the table.
It was Lord Warwick’s sword, ready to be collected.Would Torgrin think it was good enough for his lord?It was the finest sword I had ever made, but I was from Red River.My work might not measure up to the blacksmiths of Capita.
Cillian gave up looking at the orders and came to stand at my side in the doorway.I sighed, and he put his arm around my shoulders.
‘The sword is magnificent, so stop worrying.’
‘How did you … ?’
‘How often have you polished, wrapped and rewrapped that sword today?’
I scowled at him, and he chuckled, then frowned.
