“Then we’ll have had the excuse to dine with pleasant company,” Somhairle said, turning the coin queen-side up, as he always managed to do.
Inis kept her mouth shut. In a mood like this, she’d start a fight with anyone. Even Somhairle, who didn’t deserve it.
“I’ll see you there,” she told him instead. She needed a minute to clear her head, to be free of princes both friendly and foreign.
If you did want to fight, there are plenty of bones around here worth crunching, Two said lazily, without looking up from where he was curled at the foot of her bed.
I need you to stay where you are, Inis replied. Keep an eye on Rags and Shining Talon while Somhairle and I are gone. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid.
Could chomp on the little thief’s bones for you. When Inis shook her head, Two sighed. You say no, but you’d smile if I did it.
Inis pursed her lips. There was a dress on the bed, skirts and bodice the color of the sky between the moons at twilight, a ghostly purple-blue that shimmered nearly silver in low light. A gift from Morien, another costume to help her play her part. It was extravagant, not Inis’s usual style. Certainly not what she’d grown accustomed to during House Ever-Loyal’s banishment.
Dressing like an Ever-Noble lady without the assistance of Ever-Noble servants took more than one attempt, but she managed to secure the laces and adjust the neckline of the dress, making certain everything settled in the right places.
The gown made her skin glow like fresh cow’s milk. Or maybe that was Morien’s glamour.
She gave Two a final pat on the head and left.
Laisrean might be able to see through the glamour if they were alone for too long. And there was another issue Inis couldn’t shove aside, which was whether she’d make it through a meal with Laisrean without giving herself away.
Chomp chomp, Two called to her as she made her way to Laisrean’s wing of the castle.
A servant guided her through the rooms until they reached one lit with handsome candlelight, a steady fire in the fireplace, and a table set with the latest delicacies.
The rooms had changed since the last time Inis had—
She swallowed, ignored the flash of memory better this round than the last. Somhairle hadn’t arrived yet. She should never have sent him away, should have known arriving in numbers was the safer bet.
“Ah.” Laisrean, who’d been reading on a couch by the fire, shut his book and stood. His broad face broke into a smile, banishing the hint of shadows beneath his eyes, as though he’d been up too late the night before. Attending a fancy ball, no doubt. Inis dropped into a quick, deep curtsy. “No need to be so formal. Sit, please. I’m sure my brother will be along any moment.”
“It’s not like him to be late,” Inis agreed. In the firelight, Laisrean was more golden than brown. There was kindness in his eyes: polite but distant, meant to keep guests at arm’s length. His black hair had been wetted, then combed to keep it in place.
Inis remained standing and cast her gaze to the fire in front of her. Slowly, she unclenched her hands and used them to smooth out her billowing skirts.
You are not Inis Fraoch Ever-Loyal, she told herself. Ailis was uncomplicated, with no history to weigh her down. She cast about for something to discuss before silence settled and suffocated.
What was he reading?
“You look tired,” she said.
Laisrean laughed, then startled at the sound coming from himself. He gazed into the fire as though he sought what Inis saw there, and Inis looked away toward the mantel, where one of the servants had placed a bouquet of red and orange lilies.
“Forgive me.” Her cheeks were hot, her expression horrified. “I spoke out of turn. Prince Somhairle told me how hard his brothers work on the Hill, and I . . .” Inis did her best not to choke on the words. If Somhairle didn’t arrive soon, Inis didn’t trust herself to maintain this deception.
The first time she’d repaired the thatching of the cottage roof with Bute, it had taken her hours to learn how to prevent the sharp stalks from slicing her hands. It had been a hard-won lesson, paid with a hundred tiny cuts.
She felt the same trying to maintain her composure alone in Laisrean’s room, trying not to think about his mother’s role in the ruin of her family.