“Well?” he asked.
She couldn’t speak. Her throat had closed up. She managed a nod, small and mechanical. She hadn’t known Cormac loved her, and she knew he didn’t believe those last words, but hearing them still hollowed her out.
“Very well,” Halverton said, straightening. “Then you shall decide his fate.”
“What?”
“He was found trespassing on my grounds,” Halverton said lightly, as though discussing the weather. “If you do not care for him, you will have no problem delivering an appropriate punishment.”
“Don’t play his game!” Cormac shouted, lunging forward, but the captain wrenched his arm up again, forcing a cry from his throat.
Aoife didn’t look at him. She kept her gaze fixed on Halverton, fists clenched tight enough that her nails bit her palms. Her whole body was shaking, but she would not let him see it.
She saw what he was doing. If she chose mercy, he’d call her weak and overrule her. If she chose harshness, he’d call it justice. If she argued, he might hit her again, or worse, let his temper fall on Cormac. The choice wasn’t a choice at all. He wanted to see his own cruelty reflected back at him and call it fairness.
She needed to be calm. Logical. The model of noble judgement.
What would Florence have said?
Whatever it was, it wouldn’t have been a plea.
A man from their village was hanged for trespassing when Aoife was only a small child, but he’d been a known poacher.
“Is this his first offence?” she asked.
Halverton’s brows rose, amused. “Excellent question. Yes. As far as we know.”
Cormac’s voice was hoarse now. “Aoife,” he said, pleading, but not for himself. She could hear it in his tone.
Her chest tightened. Her vision blurred. She swallowed hard. “The usual punishment would be twenty lashes.”
Halverton tilted his head. “You will not beg for leniency?”
She met his eyes. “No.”
He smiled. “A hanging would have been excessive for a first offence, I agree. You have chosen well. Twenty lashes is a fair punishment.”
His approval landed like ice in her lungs.
She hadn’t chosen it because it was fair or just, but because it was the least he would accept.
Aoife didn’t move. She couldn’t.
Halverton turned to his soldiers. “Bring the villagers together. The punishment will be carried out tomorrow morning at the post. Everyone will see what happens to trespassers.”
He approached Cormac, reached down, and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.
Cormac jerked his head away, disgusted.
“I will enjoy watching them beat the fire out of you,” Halverton murmured.
Chapter 25
Halverton stepped away. The captain released Cormac’s arm, and he crumpled forward, clutching it to his chest. Around the edge of the courtyard, the soldiers moved. Amongst them she spotted Lugh and Kian as they stepped forward to grab Cormac by the arms and drag him to his feet.
For an instant, Lugh’s eyes met hers. There was pity in his look, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He turned away, hauling Cormac with him.
Aoife’s body turned heavy, her limbs unresponsive. Her heart pounded in her throat. What have I done?
