He was not good looking either. Not the way Urfet was. Too foreign. Too Celtic.
When she’d left the hall, she had walked right by him, close. They had looked into one another’s eyes. His were…
Curious.Nay, not as much as he appeared curious about her, though everyone here must be. But curiously unusual eyes in a man—neither blue nor green, something in between. Fringed with long, light brown lashes.
Very fine eyes.
Oh, and she must be tired if she had begun admiring the eyes of random strangers. She must be overwrought and overcome.
Orle still waited for an answer to her request.Tell me of him.
“He did not say much to me. I do not think he is impressed with his bride.”
“Ah, well, you will become better acquainted, I do not doubt, before the wedding.”
“I need to sleep.” She’d done little of that during the journey, her anger and rebellion making it impossible. Now she felt she might drop where she stood.
“Yes, come. I have your robe ready.”
With careful, gentle hands, Orle helped Darlei out of her fine gown and into her robe. Out of her shoes. Braided her hair for sleep.
“I am so glad you are here.” Darlei hugged her. “Will you stay with me?”
“If you like.”
They lay in the strange, high bed. Orle soon fell into a doze, but Darlei found she could not sleep after all.
“I am afraid, Orle,” she said into the dim air of the room. It was a thing she rarely admitted, and she said it only because no one could hear. Caerdoc’s bold daughter did not admit to being cowed or uncertain.
But…
Terrible as all this was, it would only get worse. She would have to wed the dull specimen she had met this day. Settle into a life here. The festivities over, Father would leave. All their folk, save Orle, would go home.
She would have to stay.
She feared if that happened, she would lose herself. Become a woman she was not and had never meant to be.
Because she could not imagine it. That man, for her husband. Raising children among strangers.
They would eventually no longer be strangers. That terrified her most of all. Because if she ceased to be Princess Darlei, if home became so distant that she no longer reached for it, who would she be?
She could not let that happen. Lying there with Orle breathing peacefully beside her, she vowed it. She must do all she could to keep her heart wild and Caledonian.
She must have dozed eventually, the weariness of body overtaking the agony of mind, for morning came with a trickle of gray light.
She lay with her forearm bent over her eyes and listened to Orle moving around the chamber, and sickness stirred in her gut.
Not sickness.Dread.
What would this day bring? Entertainments, no doubt. A whole raft of activities in which she would be expected to partake.
Back home, she liked mornings. She would rise early, dress herself, and go out to visit the ponies. She spared a thought for Bradh, whom she had injured and who she hoped was all right. She envied Bradh—he had been allowed to go home.
Homewas a sizeable settlement in a small glen surrounded by steep mountains. His fortress, so Father always called it. Her tribe had been there a long time, fighting against the encroaching Gaels. Holding the western gate, as Father put it.
Was that why the king had given them the honor of this union? A kind of reward? A role in making Scotland one country?
Yet in her heart, it was not one country. She doubted it would ever be. And she did not appreciate being made the sacrifice.
