the flames of the fat beeswax candles scattered around the room. Expensive upholstered chairs and chaises were carefully placed here and there. Tables of varying sizes, covered in silk and lace held those candles.
A moment later, Charles, Euphemie’s personal guard, entered from the hallway on the other side. Recognizing Keevah at once, he spun around and left.
“Who is he?” Charles asked.
“Euphemie’s personal guard. He is a good man,” she answered in a hushed whisper. She went to the fire and rubbed her hands together. Cold to her bones, she shivered as she soaked up the warmth from the fire. Phillip remained quiet and vigilant, maintaining at his post by the double doors.
Moments passed before Euphemie came rushing into the room. As always, she was elegantly dressed in silk and brocade. Her auburn hair was perfectly coiffed with braids twisting around her scalp, the rest cascading down her back in a river of curls.
“Keevah,” she said as she rushed to pull her in for a warm embrace. “Thank God ye are here.” Immediately, she began pulling her toward the stairs. “She is nae long for this world, Keevah. I think she has been holdin’ on just for ye.”
Tears stung at her eyes, but she refused to free them. “Where is Brigid?”
“Asleep in Mava’s room,” she replied. “Dunnae worry over it. Mava is our new cook and housekeeper. She has a room next to the kitchens. Away from everyone.”
Relieved the child was in someone’s good care, she followed Euphemie up the stairs. “I put her in my room,” she said as she led the way down the dimly lit hallway. “Shareen is with her now.”
They paused outside the door to Euphemie’s room. Euphemie hugged her once again and stepped aside. “Call for me if ye need me lass.” She patted her hand and disappeared into the shadows.
Keevah took in a deep, steadying breath before slowly opening the bedchamber door. The soft light from the hallway spilled in, washing over the bed on the opposite side of the room. The only other light coming from the low-burning fire in the brazier and one lonely beeswax candle that sat on the bedside table. Globs of wax had dripped over the holder and pooled on the tabletop.
There, in the large bed, bathed in half-light, was her friend, Kieren. Barely recognizable now her face covered in dark bruises that were visible even at this distance. Keevah rushed to her side, fell to her knees as she took her hand. “I am here, dear sister. I am here.”
Kienan’s once beautiful, bright blue eyes were half swollen from the beating her husband had given her. Lips that at one time in her life were so easy to curve into a warm, beaming smile, were now cut and protruding macabrely. With gentle fingertips, Keevah lightly brushed the blond curls away from her forehead only to find a large, bulging cut that someone had stitched back together. Her delicate alabaster skin had turned purple in so many places. Lord above! She has been here for days. What must she have looked like when she arrived?
Tears pooled in Keevah’s eyes, her words catching on the knot of grief in her throat. “Kieren, ’tis me, Keevah.” Gently, she squeezed her friend’s hands in hers and clutched them against her heart.
Kieren tried to open her eyes, but the effort was too much. “Sister,” she whispered. Her voice was raspy and coarse. Oh, what Keevah would not give to have her friend whole and healthy again, to hear that sweet voice once again alive with laughter or song. To see those eyes twinkle with delight and mirth. To be young again, before the harsh realities of life had taken away their innocence.
“Aye, sister, ’tis me.”
“I waited for ye,” Kieren said. “I told them I would nae die until I saw ye once again.”
“Wheest!” Keevah said. “Ye are nae goin’ to die. I simply will nae allow it.”
Kieren tried to laugh, but it came out sounding sickly and hoarse. “Still the bossy one. Even after all these years.”
A weak smile formed on Keevah’s lips. “Aye, and ye must listen to me. Ye will live. I will take ye and Brigid back to my home with me.” ’Twas a dream she’d given up on long ago, but one she would give her right eye to have a chance for again.
She shook her head ever so slightly. “I should have listened to ye years ago,” Kieren said. Her breaths were growing shallow and ragged. “I fear I