I nodded, eyes flicking to the stage. History had never particularly interested me.
“The nations rebelled, and the empire collapsed. Over the centuries, countries broke apart, dynasties rose and fell, but Forlaith remained eternal. Eventually, the Solhearts grew to power again, and thus began their conquest of us once more.”
A striking man strutted across the stage, black shirt cut deep to reveal his bronzed skin. A half-mask covered his face, but one golden eye—the same shade as Reese’s—met mine. He smirked, brushing back his black curls.
Was he a half-blood, born from the union between a Solheart and an Earthborn? I’d never seen anyone with features like that.
My attention settled on his lovely purple cape as it swirled across the stage. Brighid snapped her fingers in front of my eyes.
“Pay attention to me, not the bard.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Go on.”
“As I was saying, during that time, Forlaith burned many of our histories and customs. But a few records of ancient beliefs survived.”
I must have missed something between her last words and these.
Every ounce of my being wanted to glance back at that purple cape. It was such a lovely shade—I needed to ask who his tailor was.
“Is Brighid boring you with history?” Reese stepped over my bench and stood beside me. I tried not to look at him.
“She isnotboring me.” I lifted my chin. “Every lord worth his salt should know his history.”
Brighid pursed her lips. “Lucky for you, I prepared a lesson best suited for imbeciles.” She gestured to the stage behind her.
"Imbeciles?" Bláth protested.
“How generous,” I said, ignoring the slight. “No one’s ever prepared a play just for me.”
Reese sighed. “Brighid, what’s this about? It's not like you to make light of matters.”
“Believe you me, it wasn’t my idea,” Brighid snapped. She closed her eyes. “I’m getting married soon.”
"What?" Reese and Bláth blurted out in unison.
I glanced between them. What was so surprising about a noblewoman getting married?
Reese stared intently at Brighid. “To who?”
“To precisely who you’re thinking,” Brighid answered. She raised her palm. “And spare me whatever you’re about to say—I had no choice.”
A vein pulsed in Reese’s neck. “I can’t let you?—”
“I said spare me.”
I glanced down at Reese’s hands, clenched into tight fists. Whomever Brighid intended to marry, Reese didn't like him. At all.
Which meant this man was the worst kind of bastard.
Bláth’s bright eyes widened in horror, and she mouthed the beginning of a protest. Pressing her lips together, she stared down, cheeks flushed with rage.
“I made a deal,” Brighid explained. “There’s something I want to see, before my life essentially ends. It has everything to do with the play, and it will help you.”
“A deal?” Bláth echoed, looking up at the stage. “With a bard? I thought you hated bards.”
“I do.Especiallythis one.” Brighid rubbed her temples again.
Reese searched the stage for the bard, but he'd disappeared.
