The Queen’s Resistance. Rebecca Ross
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seven neighboring territories. They historically had a strong alliance with the Dunns and the Fitzsimmonses, which was broken when the Lannons took the throne. Since then, they have pledged their allegiance to the House wielding all the power.” I paused, feeling the constraint again of my head knowledge. “I can recite their noble lineage if that is what you are seeking. Even the bastard daughters and sons.”
“So the name Pierce Halloran should mean something to you,” Jourdain said.
“Yes. Pierce Halloran is the youngest of Lady Halloran’s three sons. Why?”
“Because he is here,” my father all but growled.
I could not hide my surprise. “Pierce Halloran is here, at Fionn? How come?”
But I had a suspicion as to why. The Lannons were our prisoners. The Hallorans’ alliance with them had begun to crumble …
“He wants to get a look at you.”
“He wants to look at me?”
“He wants to present himself as a suitor to you,” Jourdain amended, as it would have been phrased in Valenia.
This revelation shocked me at first. But then the shock dissipated as I began to strategize.
“My, he must think he is very clever,” I stated, which thankfully loosened the tension that had been building in Jourdain.
“So you see what I see in this?” my father said, his shoulders sagging a bit.
“Of course.” I crossed my arms, glancing to the fire. “The Hallorans have been in bed with the Lannons for over a hundred years. And that bed has just been overturned. By us.” I felt Jourdain watching me, hanging on to my words. “The Hallorans are scrambling right now, as they should. They are seeking an alliance with the strongest House.”
“Aye, aye,” Jourdain said, nodding. “And we must tread very carefully, Brienna.”
“Yes, I agree.”
I took a moment to sort through my thoughts, to weave a plan together, walking about my room, absently touching the braids in my hair. I had decided to start plaiting my hair, as many of the MacQuinn women did. Warrior braids, as I liked to think of them.
When I came to stand before Jourdain once more, I saw a slight smile on his face.
“By the gods,” he said, shaking his head at me. “I never thought I would be so happy to see that scheming gleam in your eyes.”
I grinned and playfully laid my hand over my heart. “Ah, Father. You wound me. Why wouldn’t you be happy to hear of my plans?”
“Because they give me gray hairs, Brienna,” he responded with a chuckle.
“Then perhaps you should sit for this.”
He obeyed, taking the chair Neeve had graced the night before, and I sat beside him in my favorite armchair, our boots stretched out to the fire.
“All right, Father. Here are my thoughts. The Hallorans are seeking to form an alliance with us through marriage to me. I cannot say that I fault them for their effort. I’m certain they were tools of the Lannons during the past twenty-five years. And the political landscape of Maevana is dramatically shifting. The Hallorans need to rebrand themselves, to win the favor of the queen in some way. Marriage is one of the easiest yet strongest ways to forge a new alliance, hence why Pierce has shown up on our threshold.”
“Brienna … please do not tell me that you are considering this,” Jourdain said, covering his eyes for a moment.
“Of course not!”
He dropped his hand and let out a relieved huff. “Good. Because I do not know what to think about this! More than anything, I would like to spit on the gifts Pierce brought us, to send him off with a kick to the breeks. But both of us know that we cannot afford to be so rash, Brienna.”
“No, we cannot,” I agreed. “The Hallorans want to ally with us. Should we let them?”
We were both quiet, contemplating all the possibilities.
I broke the silence first. “We were just discussing alliances, rivalries. The four of us sat down and parsed out Houses to win over for Isolde. We are still trying to decide what to do with the Lannon people, but what about the Carran House, the Halloran House?” I shrugged, betraying my uncertainty. “It nearly makes me ill to think about letting them join our fold. They thrived the past twenty-five years while so many of your people suffered. But if we refuse them … what sort of ramifications come with that?”
“There is no way to be certain,” my father responded. “All I can say now is, I do not want the Hallorans in our alliance. I do not trust them.”
“You think they would deceive us?”
Jourdain met my gaze. “I know that they would.”
I tapped my fingers along my knees, anxious. “So we cannot outright deny them. But I still need to give Pierce Halloran an answer.”
Jourdain went very still, staring at me. “All I ask—if you would heed me as your father—is that you would not play games with him. Do not do anything that would put yourself at risk, daughter.”
“I would not assume to play Pierce in a romantic way. But as I just said, I need to answer him.”
“Can you not simply tell him you are with Aodhan Morgane?” Jourdain spouted.
“Cartier needs to appear as a lord with no weakness.” It almost sounded harsh, but the words hovered in the air between my father and me as truth; the people we loved were always a weakness. “And the fact that Cartier, essentially, has nothing—no living family, no spouse, no children—sets him higher than us in this game of politics.”
I watched Jourdain as his eyes glazed for a moment. I worried that he was thinking of himself, of his wife, Sive, of how he had lost her.
“I simply want for you to be happy, Brienna,” he eventually whispered, and his confession nearly wrung my heart.
I reached forward to take his hands in mine. “And I thank you for that, Father. After the trial—after Isolde is crowned and we have a better understanding of how everything is going to settle—Cartier and I will make it known.”
Jourdain nodded, looking down at our linked hands. “So, daughter. How will you answer Pierce Halloran tonight?”
“How I will begin to answer every man beyond this House who wishes to earn my favor as a suitor.”
Jourdain went still, soaking in my words, slowly understanding. His eyes lifted, meeting mine, and I saw the surprise within him.
“Oh? And how is that?” But he already knew.
A smile warmed my voice. “I will ask Pierce Halloran to bring me the golden ribbon from a tapestry.”
Every MacQuinn showed up for dinner that night in the hall.
There was hardly an empty space at the tables, and the great room soon grew stifling from the fire in the hearth, from the inspirations of so many curious people, from the fact that I was sitting beside Pierce Halloran at the lord’s table.
He was exactly as I expected: handsome in a sharp, unforgiving way, with eyes that flickered with deceptive languidness. And he liked to set that ruthless gaze on me, I soon found. He traced the braids in my hair, the neckline of my dress, the curves of my body. He was weighing my physical attractiveness, as if that were all to me.
You are a fool, I thought halfway through the meal as I took a steady sip of my ale, his eyes resting on me again. He was too preoccupied to entertain the thought that I might be plotting something detrimental to him.
I smiled into my goblet, just for a moment.
“And what is humoring you, Brienna MacQuinn?” Pierce asked, noticing.
I