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“But it’s not a soft spot, or not only,” she added. “It’s strength, it’s a reason. If I made a mistake today, well, I’m human, too. You’re just going to have to suck that one up.”
“The human in you makes you what you are. It’s not a flaw, but another strength. Another power. Another gift.”
He put his hands on her shoulders as she worked. “I had your bloodon my hands, Breen. And feeling it, seeing it, it may be I thought too much.”
“I’d say all’s well that ends well, but it hasn’t ended yet.”
“For tonight, it has.” He turned her. “Take a moment, drink your wine, then tell me what I can do to help with whatever the hell it is you’re doing here.”
“Do you know how to make lasagna?”
“I don’t, but I like to eat it.”
“We’re in the same position on that. You could stir those noodles so they don’t stick together.” When he circled a finger in the air to stir the pot, she rolled her eyes. “Not that way. Oh hell, that way’s fine. You can make the salad.”
“Can I now?”
“I’ll walk you through it. That’s something I can actually pull off. And I’m going to pull off this meal.” She strode over to get a colander and a casserole dish. “Then I’m turning this kitchen back over to Marco for the duration.”
She had it under control when Marco came down, so she just pointed a finger. “Stay out.”
“I’m just going to get myself a glass of wine in anticipation of this fine meal.”
“Keegan will get you a glass of wine. Stay out.”
Though his face registered some sympathy, Keegan poured the wine, handed it to Marco. “Leave it to her, brother. Best let her have her way on this.”
“Smells great.” But Marco paced around the dining room. Before she could snap at him for it, his face lit up. “Here’s Brian.”
Breen paused long enough to watch the newly pledged couple greet each other with a strong kiss.
“Breen’s cooking.”
“So I see.” Brian smiled at her as he wandered over. “Are you feeling all yourself then?”
“Because I’m cooking I don’t feel all myself?”
“No indeed. Word’s gone out far and wide about Odran’s attack. Are you healing well?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“We heard his bellow. I’m surprised if they didn’t hear it in the Far North. I couldn’t leave my post but sent Duncan, and he came back full of reports of how, even wounded, you burned the wraith vessel to ash, defeating the god and sending him crawling back to his own with a warning the next you met he’d burn.”
“It wasn’t exactly like—”
“Mara’s got a song started on it. ‘The Ballad of Breen and the Wraith.’”
She couldn’t say the sound Keegan made was a snicker, but it came damn close.
“I didn’t really—”
“But you did.” Keegan poured wine all around. “Or close enough. And the Fey need their songs and stories. So a toast to Breen Siobhan for her victory on the field of battle and, we hope, in the kitchen.”
“Ha,” she said, and mentally crossing her fingers, pulled the lasagna out of the oven.
“That looks…” With some astonishment, Marco finished, “Perfect.”
“We were going to eat by candlelight if it didn’t.” When she reached for a long knife, Marco made a sound. “What?”
