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For a split second, my eyes wandered across the crowd, trying to locate the origin of that awful scream. It was full of anger and pain. Perhaps because I was an empath, I could feel those emotions deep within me, as if they were mine.
Lugh’s hand clasped over mine. His palm was sweaty. His fingers were cold.
Disgusting.
His eyes met mine, his expression full of indifference as though I was not me; but a thing he could wield.
His lips curled with a smile. It was the vilest thing I had ever seen.
I pulled my hand away from him.
“Who screamed?” I mumbled.
You love him, Lady Queill’s voice rang in my mind. Her voice had been there before, but I hadn’t known that I was hearing it. Now, it was different. She sounded like she was worried about something.
Lugh stared at me.
You love him, Lady Queill pushed again. You want to marry him.
I understood it then.
The scream was mine. It was within my mind, hidden underneath Queill’s impulsion, but there nonetheless. As soon as I realized that, the illusion broke at once, pushing away Queill’s magic like a wall breaking into a thousand little pieces blown away by a strong wind.
Lugh didn’t understand what was happening inside of me as I took a step away from him.
My hate for him came back. That hate lifted the fog that had settled over my mind. Lady Queill’s attempts to subdue me failed.
My emotions and thoughts were mine again.
The pain of having lost Orla came back in full force. I hadn’t had time to work through it when Queill had trapped me with her magic back in that dungeon.
Fear came next. Even though I was free from the chains of Queill’s magic, there were still soldiers around us. Soldiers that would follow Lugh to the grave if need be. My eyes darted to the side of the platform first.
Three soldiers stood together, alert and ready to strike. Two of them, I did not know; they were Lugh’s and Lugh’s only. But the third soldier was a familiar face.
Padraig met my gaze as I turned to him. He seemed confused at first, and then, his brows tightened with realization.
Did he know?
I couldn’t tell.
I turned to Kieran once again. Two other soldiers were holding my little brother tightly. One of them had a blade on his belt, one that he could easily pull to cut his throat on a single command of their lord.
The closest soldiers were the ones we had to deal with ourselves. The others were far enough away that those supporting Kieran could handle them before they reached us.
Lugh turned away from me.
He hadn’t noticed the sudden change, not like Lady Queill. I could feel her tendrils attempting to wrap over my mind once again, but it was easy to push her away. I held onto my anger and pain and she could not penetrate my will. Not again.
“You will be executed for your crimes against the crown,” Lugh announced, his eyes lingering on Kieran.
“No,” I said.
“Dear,” Lugh said, not bothering to meet my gaze. He assumed it was Lady Queill who was making me speak, perhaps to make it all seem more natural. “We have to. It’s for the good of the realm. He will not learn.”
“No,” I repeated.
Lugh seemed irritated at that. But instead of looking at me, his gaze darted toward where Lady Queill had been sitting a moment ago.
