A frown lined his brow. “Where is Imag? When I saw her at dawn, she said she would change my son’s dressings this afternoon.”
“Your healer realized she needed more herbs and is outpicking them.”
“Aíbinn?”
“My healer is tending the smithy’s wife, who is in labor.” Lathir smiled, wanting to ease his worry. “As Kieran’s betrothed, I will see to the task.”
“I will accompany you.”
“I thank you.” Lathir remained silent as they headed toward the keep.
Golden candlelight entwined with the flicker of flames from the hearth cast Kieran’s chamber in a warm glow as theystepped inside.
Grief squeezed her chest as she walked to her betrothed, tucked beneath the quilt. Though she had helped to aid many a knight, she hesitated as she reached for the cover. Irritated at her foolishness, she placed a bowl of water on a nearby table. ’Twas naught intimate about tending to a wound.
After she’d drawn the covering back to expose his outer thigh, she carefully began to unwrap the bandage.
Dark bruises of purple and blackcame into view.
His father grunted. “The wound ishealing well.”
“Aye. Thank God there are nay signs of infection.” Lathir started to set the old bandageaside, stilled.
On the outside of his upper outer thigh lay an uneven brown path of skin, like a smeared line a thumb’s width, the end fading into a curl.
Her fingers fisted on the cloth as she stared at the discolored skin.
“What is wrong?”
Heart pounding, she glanced over. “T–the mark on his upper thigh.”
The frown on his brow smoothed. “’Tis naught but a birthmark, one all within my family carry,” he said with pride.
She stilled. “All?”
“Aye.”
“Have you ever heard of anyone outside your family carrying the same birthmark?”
“Never.” His hesitated. “Why are you asking?”
The immensity of this moment shaking her, Lathir fought for calm, failed. “Lord Torridan, Sir Rónán has the same birthmark on his outer thigh.”
“Impossible,” theearl blustered.
“’Tis there. I saw it.” She paused. “Howold is Kieran?”
At the earl’s reply, air rushed from her as the full impact of the revelation sank in. Legs unsteady, she collapsed into the chair as her chest tightened. “My lord,” she forced out, “Rónán is almost two years older. And when I first met Kieran, as he stood alongside Rónán, I couldna help but see similaritiesbetween them.”
The noble’s knuckles whitened as he clutched the bed. “God in heaven, are you saying that you thinkRónán is my son?”
“I believe ’tis a possibility. In addition to having similarities with Kieran, Rónán has your grayish-green eyes and brown hair.”
His face raw with emotion, the noble shook his head in disbelief. “It canna be. Imag informed my wife and I that my son had died shortly after his birth.”
She damned the old pain she’d brought up, more so as Kieran lay injured before them, but after the horrific youth Rónán had endured, to learn that he had a family, one who had loved him, ’twasworth the risk.
Lathir gave a slow exhale. “But you neversaw the babe?”
