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Alec cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Were you able to meet her?”
Saoirse ran fingers through her damp hair and reached for her steaming cup of tea. “No.” Alec frowned. “She was a bit preoccupied.”
Alec scowled. “With what? You’re a representative of Brónach, the least she could do is give you—”
“She found her mate,” Saoirse interrupted.
Her brother froze, knowing full well what a mating bond meant. They’d witnessed its depth between their parents. They’d watched their father fall apart, torn at the seams as he lost a piece of himself month after month until he was so cold Saoirse hardly recognized him.
Alec sat back. “So it’s true then. The Lord of Pádraigín will become the king of Alastríona.” He chuckled to himself. “I guess I best start groveling now for all the petty disagreements we’ve had through the years.” Alec looked up at her. “How did he take it?”
Saoirse blinked at her brother, confused until she remembered Ruadhán had come to collect their queen. Alec must have assumed the Lord of Pádraigín was among them.
But that wasn’t the case at all.
Saoirse wrapped both hands around her mug and settled deeper into her cushioned chair, preparing for the anger about to spill from her older sibling. “The Lord of Pádraigín never came to Levea.”
Alec furrowed his brow. “But you said the queen found her mate.”
“I did.”
Alec waited a moment, but she could see the information processing. He knew, but still asked, “Then who is it?”
“Rion,” she said simply.
“That’s not possible.”
She shrugged. “I met with Rion before I left. It seemed real enough.”
Alec clenched his fists. “If he hurts her—”
Saoirse laughed. “Rion would tear himself apart before he ever laid a hand on that female.”
Her brother wasn’t convinced. “You believe he’s changed so much?”
She nodded, not wanting to argue that Rion had always been Rion. She hadn’t mentioned the rest. The fact that Rion had almost died at the hands of Avalon or that her little brother had given up on life. It felt too personal of a thing to share, especially since Alec held no love for their youngest brother. Even though he knew the truth about their father’s death and who was really responsible.
Alec crossed the room and stopped before an old bookshelf full of maps, tomes, and Alastríona’s history. “The ancient texts tell us one thing. Something we’ve believed all our lives and it turns out to be true. Yet another part of it is wrong. How are we to make sense of that?”
“Maybe the scholars didn’t know what they were doing after all.”
He ran a hand down a book’s spine. “Maybe.” He looked ready to say more but stopped himself. “I want you to meet her, make your own assumptions, and report back.”
“I already planned on it. You think I’ve been dress shopping for fun?”
He pinned her with a look. She yawned and stretched her legs. “I’m headed for bed then. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
Alec nodded and Saoirse paused in the doorway, noting the way Alec kept staring at a book on the shelf. She’d never been very religious and made a point to avoid the temples in her adult life. But one thing was becoming clear. Something somewhere in their history wasn’t right, and when they uncovered the truth, it might very well fracture their world.
***
Saoirse didn’t head into the office the following day. Her brother didn’t expect her anyway. She had schedules to make and she needed to determine who would be accompanying her to Ruadhán. She would have loved to take Eoghan, but he’d just returned and needed time with his family. She smiled. His wife might have Saoirse’s head otherwise.
Her warriors moved swiftly, gathering their things and making final preparations. They were ecstatic for the opportunity to see Ruadhán up close. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, even for an immortal.
She tried to focus on the task at hand, but the longer she worked, the more Saoirse couldn’t get a certain half-breed out of her mind. The female haunted her every step. She saw her among the slaves that walked the halls. In those she commanded when they lowered their gazes and bowed their heads.
A pang of regret flew through her. A sense of wrongness.
