light, not weighed down with all of our mistakes and preconceived ideas about each other.
It was like it used to be.
We finished scraping the bottom of the bowl, and Ronan sat down, pushing back until he was against the chest of drawers.
I racked my brain for something to say. “How was the thing?” Clearly, I’d lost the ability to use words.
Ronan lifted his eyebrows. “The banquet was fine. Interesting.”
Hmm. “Tell me about it?” I wondered if he—or any of them—would. “Did you meet the competitors?”
“Culann.”
One name. That was all he needed. Even I knew that Culann was a warrior worth mentioning.
“You don’t need to give him a second thought,” I said, keeping my tone encouraging. “Was he the best that was there?”
Standing, I surveyed the room. We’d managed to eat most of what the princes brought. “So, Culann,” I revisited while I began to gather the dishes and place them onto one tray. “Anyone else?”
“He has a sponsor,” Killian answered. “Morgan Tauroc. Oh.” His voice went flat. “Our cousin, Anlon.”
I grimaced. Although I’d briefly met their cousin face-to-face long ago, his reputation was well known. “Watch your horses.” I met Ronan’s stare. “You know what I’m talking about.”
The rat-fink had wheedled one of Ronan’s prize horses from their father when he was still alive. I’d never seen the prince as upset as he was after Anlon rode his horse out of Tuatha.
“Is that little weasel in the tournament? He’s just smart enough to be dangerous.” I hummed under my breath as I finished stacking the trays. After I placed them near the door, I straightened and turned. All three of the princes watched me, each with considering gazes. “What?”
It was Killian who spoke first. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just nice having—”
Ronan stood and cut Killian off with, “And, on that note, goodnight.” The scent of dew filled the room as he waved his hand toward a wall. A door appeared. “I realized after we left that you needed a bathroom. I used a necessity spell, so the door only appears when you need it.”
“Thank you.” That was the most he’d said to me since I’d come to the castle.
Killian and Flynn both stood. Flynn stepped toward me, hands lifting as if to hug me, but one quick throat clear from Ronan, and he stopped. “See you in the morning.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
Killian nodded his head, following Flynn out the door. Ronan lingered for a second but thought better of whatever made him delay in the first place and left.
Then it was just me, in my tiny room that was suddenly too big and too empty.
Ronan
I awoke with a start, my hand already on the hilt of my sword by the time my eyes adjusted to the dim light. Scanning the room, I quickly determined it was empty. Other than my older brother, who tossed and turned in his bed less than ten feet away.
Even as boys, we’d never shared a bedroom. But I wasn’t willing to leave him alone. Not after what happened to Father. Not while Killian was suffering the same symptoms.
Sitting up in the bed I’d had moved into his room, I leaned against the wall and watched my brother. He was mumbling, but his words were indecipherable.
That was new.
Though he’d been restless in slumber for weeks now, he rarely made enough noise to wake me up. Tonight was different. He was more than restless—he was agitated.
I debated waking him, but I knew he needed the sleep. He’d been doing his best to stay awake night after night, and the impact had been clear during training today. Catnaps weren’t going to cut it. He needed a full night’s rest.
Then again, considering his current state of turmoil, maybe I was wrong about that.
It was an impossible conundrum—sleeping may be slowly killing him. And not sleeping would get him killed in the tournament, if not before.
The whole situation was making me twitchy.
There had to be something we could do—something to stop his deterioration. But he refused to summon any healers or sorcerers. All of the best ones had already attempted to heal Father. And not a single one had even helped.
Hell, I was half-tempted to portal him to the nearest mortal hospital, if I thought it would do a bit of good. But we already knew this wasn’t an issue of health. It was an issue of magic, so old and so dark, we couldn’t trace it much less reverse it.
Which is why there’s no way Imogen is wielding it, my brain