The Queen’s Resistance. Rebecca Ross
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in seven days.”
Later that afternoon, I found myself standing in the office with Thane Seamus, both of us trying to decide how we would repair the hole in the roof, when Tomas came hopping into the room, his injured foot cocked back.
“Milord,” the boy said, tugging at my sleeve. “There’s a—”
“Lad, do not tug on the lord’s sleeve,” Seamus gently scolded, and Tomas’s face flushed as he jumped back to put some proper distance between us.
“It’s all right,” I said, glancing down at Tomas. The boy had made himself scarce the past two days, as if he had been overwhelmed by all the people now gathered in the castle. “Let me finish this, and then you and I can talk.”
Tomas nodded and hopped from the room. I watched him go, noticing how his shoulders were stooped.
“My lord Aodhan, you need to instruct young ones like him to respect you,” Seamus said with a sigh. “Or else he will constantly be out of line.”
“Yes, well, as far as I know, he is an orphan,” I said. “And I want him to feel at home with us.”
Seamus said nothing. And I wondered if I was wrong to think such—I knew nothing of raising children—but I did not have time to stand and ponder it. I returned to talking about roof repairs, sorting Tomas to the back of my mind.
Half an hour later, Seamus left to begin overseeing repairs to the alehouse, about a fifteen-minute ride but still on the property, after Aileen had admonished that “we cannot have Lady and Lord Dermott here without proper ale.” I could not fault her for ranking drink above proper beds and glass windows, and I departed the office in search of Tomas. The boy seemed to disappear at will, slipping into shadows and finding the best hiding places.
I went to the hall first, where some of the women were working at trestle tables around a pot of tea, sewing curtains and quilts for the guest chambers. Their laughter hushed at the sight of me, their gazes softening as they watched me approach.
“Good afternoon. Have you seen Tomas?” I asked. “He’s about yea high, with red hair.”
“Yes, we saw him, Lord Aodhan,” one of the women said, her fingers working a needle through the fabric all the while. “He’s with the lass with the blue cloak.”
Brienna.
I startled; it was like my heart was on a string, yanking through me at the mere thought of her.
“Thank you,” I said and rushed from the hall, the women’s whispers chasing my heels as I emerged into the courtyard. From there I hurried to the stables, but there was no trace of Brienna. One of the grooms informed me that she had just been there with Tomas, speaking of honey cakes, and so I returned to the castle through the kitchens, where a tray of honey cakes was cooling on the windowsill, two of them noticeably missing …
I walked back toward the office, my tread quiet on the stone floors; I could hear Brienna’s voice drift into the corridor as she talked to Tomas.
“So I began to dig, just beneath the tree.”
“With your bare hands?” Tomas eagerly asked.
“No, silly boy. With a spade. I had stowed it away in my pocket, and—”
“Your pocket? Dresses have pockets?”
“Of course they do. Don’t you think women need a place to hide a thing or two?”
“I suppose so. What happened next?” Tomas insisted.
“I dug until I found the locket.”
I gently pushed the door open, almost hesitant to interrupt this moment. The door creaked, as everything in this castle did, alerting them of my arrival, and I stood on the threshold, gazing down at them.
There was no furniture in the office. Brienna and Tomas were seated on the floor in a ring of sunlight, legs outstretched as they leaned back on their hands.
Brienna quieted as she met my gaze.
“I tried to tell you, milord!” Tomas hurried to say, as if he was worried he would be in trouble. “Mistress Brienna arrived, but you sent me away before I could.”
“Yes, and I apologize, Tomas,” I said, moving to join their circle on the floor. “Next time, I will listen.”
“Are you ill, milord?” The boy frowned as he studied me. “You look like you have a fever.”
I conceded to chuckle, and wiped my brow again. “No, I am not ill. I merely chased the two of you around the property.”
“I brought her back here to you, milord.”
“Mm-hmm. I should have waited here, then.” My eyes helplessly shifted to Brienna. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and her face was flushed from the ride, her eyes bright. Her cloak was knotted at her collar; the dark blue spread around her, basking in the light.
“I was just telling Tomas the story about how I found the stone,” she said, amused.
“What happened next?” Tomas insisted, directing his attention back to her.
“Well, the Stone of Eventide was within the locket,” Brienna continued. “And I had to hide it in my … ah, in my dress.”
“In your pocket, you mean?” Tomas suggested, propping his chin in his palm.
“Yes. Something like that.” She glanced back to me with a wry smile.
“What does the stone look like?” he asked.
“Like a large moonstone.”
“I’ve seen a few moonstones,” the boy remarked. “What else?”
“The Eventide changes colors. I believe it reads the moods of the one who bears it.”
“But only the Kavanaghs can wear it without the locket, right?”
“Yes,” Brienna said. “It would burn people like you and me.”
Tomas finally became quiet, mulling over what we had told him. My gaze traced Brienna again, and I softly suggested, “Tomas? Why don’t you go see if Cook needs another hand in the kitchen?”
Tomas groaned. “But I want to hear the rest of Mistress Brienna’s story.”
“There will be another day for stories. Go along now.”
Tomas huffed to his feet, hobbling his way out.
“You should get him a little crutch before he tears those stitches you gave him,” Brienna said. “I had to carry him on my back.”
“You what?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Cartier. The boy’s nothing but skin and bones.”
The silence stretched between us. I felt pricked by guilt.
“I don’t know who he belongs to,” I finally said. “I discovered him the other night. I think he had been squatting here.”
“Maybe one day he will tell you where he comes from,” she responded.
I sighed, leaning back on my hands, regarding her once more. There was an echo of a bang, followed by Cook’s distant shouting. I could hear Tomas defiantly shouting back, and I groaned.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Brienna.” I closed my eyes, that weight coming over me again. Weight of the land, weight of the people, weight of the Dermott alliance, weight of the impending trial. Months ago, I would have never imagined myself in such a state.
Brienna moved closer to me; I listened to the whisper of her dress, felt her block the sun as she sat before me, her hands on my knees. I opened my eyes to see the light crowning her, and for a moment it was simply her and me and no one else in the world.
“There is no