“I want to know where Carice Faoilin is,” the High King said. His voice held such caged fury she didn’t know how to answer that. “You will tell me this, if you value your life.”
She was not about to betray Killian’s sister—especially not to this man.
“I d-don’t know.” Fear gripped her roughly, and she admitted, “My mother’s men came for me, and I left Carice behind. I was traveling with her to the wedding, but then I had to leave her.”
But the captain was already shaking his head. “On the first day we saw her, this woman claimed that she was your bride, my liege. She intended to deceive us during our journey towards Tara, and Lady Carice disappeared soon after she stayed behind. It could not have been a coincidence, for we have not seen your bride since.”
She knew these men were trying to save their own necks by blaming her. Best to tread carefully. “I lied to them on the first night out of fear,” Taryn said. “I was seeking sanctuary with the chieftain and was afraid I would not be allowed inside. It was a mistake from the first.”
“Why did Lady Carice run away? Was she trying to break our betrothal?” Rory demanded. His hand gripped the back of her neck, and Taryn froze. If this man intended to kill her, he would do so. She could do nothing at all to stop him.
“Lady Carice was dying,” she told the King. “She was hardly able to leave her bed.”
His gaze darkened, and for a moment he passed judgment over her. “But she was strong enough to flee this marriage.”
Taryn straightened, reaching for a courage she didn’t feel. “I do not think you would want a bride who is so ill, Your Grace. There are other women who would suit your needs better.”
“Not you,” he said coldly.
Though she had expected such a reaction, she could not stop the color from rising to her cheeks. “No, Your Grace. Not me.”
The High King drew back his hand and said, “I presume you came here to plead for your father’s life.”
She gave a faint nod. “Yes, Your Grace. If you would but grant him mercy, surely he—”
“I will not grant mercy to a traitor. He will die for his attempt to seize the kingship for himself.”
Taryn clenched her hands together, feeling as if all the blood had drained away from her body. Killian had been right. The High King had no intention of listening to any of her words.
But she would humble herself before him, begging for mercy. “He is my father, Your Grace. And whatever he has done, I would ask that you consider another punishment. Perhaps exile...or—”
“The only mercy I would consider is granting him a swift death,” Rory finished. His iron tone made it clear that he would not be swayed in this.
The ice rose up from Taryn’s heart, descending into her limbs. But she lowered herself to her knees, asking, “May I see him?”
“Not unless you wish to join him.” To the guards, he ordered, “Take her to the mound of hostages. She may be more willing to talk in the morning, once she has spent time with the other prisoners.”
Killian let out a curse when he saw the soldiers seize Taryn and take her away. He had hidden himself among the King’s subjects, never letting any man see his face. And though he could not know how they’d taken Taryn without alerting the other soldiers, he had to get her out.
There was only one way to do so. He had to confront the High King and reveal his identity.
Although he knew his features were similar to Rory’s, it was a rare moment when Killian ever saw his reflection. He hardly cared what he looked like, and he knew not what others would say when he claimed to be Rory’s son.
But he had to act swiftly before Taryn was harmed.
Slowly, he rose from his place where he’d been washing a wooden table. He dried his hands upon the rough wool that he wore. Then he walked to the place where Taryn had been standing. He held back his shoulders, still keeping himself hooded. It took a moment for the men to notice him, and the captain approached. “Go back to your place,fuidir.”
Killian ignored him, striding towards the High King. “I would like an audience with you, Your Grace.”
The captain reached out to seize his arm, but Killian twisted it and sent the man sprawling to the floor. His strength seemed to startle the others, and he saw men reaching for their blades.
But he had their attention now.
Rory Ó Connor turned and stared at him. It was clear that the High King was lacking in patience, and the moment would soon be lost.
Killian reached up to his hood and pulled it back, revealing his face. He waited before he spoke, to see if anyone saw the resemblance. By the gods, he hoped so. This was his best hope of keeping Taryn safe.
For a moment, the High King froze. He stared hard at Killian, and the expression on his face was not at all the rage ordisinterest he’d anticipated. Instead, there was a look of stunned silence. There was no doubting that Rory recognized him as another bastard son. But instead of dismissing him, the High King moved closer. “Who was your mother?”
