blew down from the north. Whether against her mother’s workroom window or her own head out in the forest, it was unpleasant.
“You are entitled to your little dalliances, of course,” Morag said with another laugh that hurt Sarah simply to listen to it. “I’ll see chambers provided for you. A discreet distance away from each other.”
“That won’t be necessary, for what should be obvious reasons of propriety,” Ruith said, in that same low, dangerous voice, “though we certainly do appreciate your hospitality, Your Majesty. We have come merely to seek shelter for the night. We won’t trouble you longer than that.”
“It is no trouble, Prince Ruithneadh,” Morag said smoothly. “Of course.”
Sarah thought it might be wise to simply keep her mouth shut and see if she couldn’t stay out of Morag’s sights. She listened to Ruith and Morag make a bit more small talk, then tried not to weep with relief when Morag motioned for one of her servants to come forward and show the guest and his, ah, cousin to their chambers. She didn’t argue with Ruith when he put her in front of him as they made their way out of the great hall, then up stairs and down passageways until the servant stopped in front of a doorway. Sarah wouldn’t have cared if it had been nothing more than a closet in which to discard used linens; she was simply happy to know that there would soon be somewhere for her to hide.
The servant withdrew a discreet distance and looked away, but not before Sarah saw the smirk on his face. She looked at Ruith.
“Well,” she said, because she couldn’t manage anything else.
Only his eyes betrayed his fury. “I will come to fetch you, my lady, for supper.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not leave this chamber, Sarah.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I wouldn’t think to.”
He opened the door for her, then stood back. “Sleep if you can. You’ll be glad of it later.”
Aye, when they snuck out of their chambers and scurried about the keep, looking for things Queen Morag shouldn’t have had in her possession. She nodded, though she didn’t imagine she would manage sleep anytime soon. She walked into the chamber and closed the door behind her. A spell slid down to the floor, the same sort of thing Ruith had put over the door in Slighe. She let out a shuddering breath, then turned in a circle to look at her luxurious accommodations. They seemed nothing out of the ordinary, though painfully small. Not quite a closet for bedclothes, but close.
A knock startled her into dropping her pack on the floor. She picked it up with trembling hands, set it on a chair, then turned to open the door. A servant stood there with a gown draped over her arms.
“From Her Majesty,” the girl said, bobbing a curtsey. “For your pleasure, my lady.”
Sarah found the gown thrust into her arms, then the door pulled shut in her face. She wouldn’t have minded that so much if she hadn’t found herself suddenly in a great deal of pain. The wound on her right arm where Gair’s spell had left its mark flamed into a burning that left her gritting her teeth in order not to cry out. Her left arm pained her equally, which surprised her. She quickly put the gown over the back of the chair, then stepped away from it. She realized that she was trembling badly and that it didn’t come from standing in the middle of a stone-cold chamber. She would have made a fire, but there was no wood. She didn’t dare take apart one of the chairs.
And then she realized there was something else about the chamber, apart from its unrelenting inhospitality, that bothered her.
Something that smelled of death.
She walked over to the window, which was unfortunately not large enough for her to jump out of, and opened the shutters. The rain-soaked breeze was a welcome relief from the stench of the spell she hadn’t noticed at first, the spell that lingered inside the chamber. She looked out into the mist for quite some time before she could bring herself to face the thought that had been tugging at her mind.
She might have the means to see what sort of spell lay in her chamber, hidden from view.
She took a deep breath of bracing spring air, then turned and leaned back against the wall, which felt comfortingly steady beneath her hands. It took her longer perhaps than it should have to