38 BRIEF AND BEAUTIFUL

“THANK THE GODS, that’s all over,” Lara sank down into a chair by the hearth and took the cup of wine Mirren handed her. “I was dreading my return to Duncrag … and how everyone would react.”

The day was done, and they’d retired to Lara’s bower to share some wine. From tomorrow—once she took the throne—she’d be expected to move into her parents’ quarters. But she’d spend tonight here in her old bower—a small yet richly furnished space. Furs covered the floor and colorful hangings draped from the walls. The air smelled of lavender and rosemary. When she’d resided at Duncrag, Bree had spent many afternoons in this bower with the princess, chatting to her by the fireside as she attempted to learn how to sew and spin.

“You dealt with everything well,” she answered, seating herself opposite Lara. “And if you were nervous, no one noticed.”

“Aye, they were too busy staring at you ,” Lara said, eyeing Bree over the rim of her cup. “Having a Shee warrior as my counselor and warder has caused quite a scandal.”

Mirren poured another cup of wine and held it out to her. Bree took it with a tired smile. “Are you regretting it?”

“No,” Lara replied. “Are you?”

Their gazes met, and the challenge in her friend’s pine-green eyes made Bree’s smile widen. “Not yet.” She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d found this afternoon even more draining than she anticipated.

Their gazes held for a few moments before Bree’s smile faded and she looked away. “I thought you’d blame me for your brother’s death,” she admitted softly. “After all, I warned the Raven Queen about the Marav ambush.”

“I wanted to … initially.” Bree glanced up to see a sad smile curving Lara’s mouth. “But you did try to stop the Shee attack, and that redeems you in my eyes.”

Bree stared back at her, even as a blend of guilt and relief clutched at her chest. Lara’s good opinion mattered to her.

“I think Bree was a wise choice, Your Highness,” Mirren volunteered then, as she retreated to a stool a few feet back from the hearth. “You wanted someone to protect you … well, the folk here are too wary of your warder to come within a few yards of her. No ruler of Albia has ever been safer.”

Bree snorted at this, while Lara arched an eyebrow. “Aye, that’s right.” Her attention focused on Bree once more. “I watched you fight in the north … I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Warmth stole over Bree then, and she realized she was embarrassed by her friend’s earnest praise. “I’m over three hundred years old,” she murmured. “I’ve had time to practice.” Both Lara and Mirren’s gazes widened at this admission, and she chuckled. “I’m still very young by Shee standards … my people live into the thousands of years.”

Lara took a large gulp of wine before giving her head a rueful shake. “We must seem … like children to you.”

“Not at all,” she replied honestly. “The opposite.” Her gaze held Lara’s for a moment before she glanced over at Mirren. “I’ve learned much from you both.”

Mirren’s mouth quirked. “What … how to play dice?”

Bree gave a soft snort. “Aye, but so much more besides.” She paused then, the warmth in her chest building before she pushed on. She’d be candid with these women—she owed them that. “Before meeting you both, I didn’t have any friends. I scorned female company as something that was beneath me … but I never realized how lonely I was until I came to live at Duncrag” —she swallowed then to ease the sudden tightness in her throat— “until you both showed me what I’d been missing.”

Cailean was sleeping soundly when Bree slipped into the sleeping nook next to him. It had been a long day, and she was relieved to bid Lara and Mirren goodnight and retire.

Snores rumbled through the alcove, although the noise wasn’t coming from her husband. Skaal was curled up next to the glowing hearth on the other side of their quarters.

Ignoring the fae hound, Bree propped herself up on an elbow and gazed down at Cailean. Even exhausted, his chest wrapped in bandages, he was beautiful.

And he was hers.

Bree’s eyes grew hot and prickly, as they had earlier that day, and she blinked furiously.

She’d once detested this man, yet now, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

Cailean stirred then, his dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. An instant later, woad-blue eyes fixed upon her.

“What time is it?” he asked drowsily.

“Late … the day is done now. Lara will be crowned tomorrow.”

He groaned. “I’ve slept the afternoon and evening away.”

“Aye, but you needed to.” She paused then before reaching out and skimming her fingertips over the bandage that wound about his torso. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

She nodded. “Even so, Eldra insists you rest for the next few days … Torran will look after things until you’re ready.”

He harrumphed. “I’ll go mad just sitting around.”

“No,” she replied firmly. “It’ll do you good.”

Their gazes met then and held before Cailean lifted a hand and caught hers, bringing it to his mouth.

The feel of his lips grazing against her knuckles made Bree’s heart kick.

“There’s much to be done,” he said then. “With the Raven Queen in the north, we must rebuild our armies … our strength. Our people need something to cling to.”

Bree nodded, something deep inside her chest tightening. Our people . Aye, his people were hers now. She’d chosen a side.

Nonetheless, Duncrag was still reeling. After their arrival in the early afternoon, news of their defeat—of the death of so many, of the loss of the north—had rocked the fort to its foundations. But now that night shrouded the world, the turmoil had settled for a short while.

“I wonder when the Raven Queen plans to push south,” Cailean continued, his voice hardening. “And how big her ambitions are.”

Tension knotted under her ribcage. “That concerns me too. To the Shee, Albia is a cold and brutal land … but Mor has tasted victory now. She might wish to bring this entire realm to heel.”

Cailean snorted before wincing. “This ‘cold and brutal land’ is now your home.”

Bree’s lips curved. “Aye … and it has my heart.”

Their gazes met once more, and Cailean’s grip on her hand tightened.

However, as their gazes drew out, the pressure in her chest continued to build. “I want to truly belong here, Cailean,” she said softly.

His brow furrowed, confusion shadowing his blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter how long I live in Duncrag, I’ll always be an outsider … always wary of iron and druidic magic. I’m weaker in the presence of both … something that might hinder my ability to protect Lara in the future.”

Cailean’s features tightened. “Don’t you think I’ve considered that too?” he said roughly. “This situation isn’t ideal, but we’ve already discussed ways to—”

“We have … but there are other things to think about,” she cut him off gently. “If you’re lucky, you’ll have another fifty years.” Bree pulled a face then. “If battle doesn’t take you first, of course. But I’m young for a Shee … I’m destined to go on for thousands of years longer.” Reaching up, she stroked his cheek. “I want to live on the same timeline as you.”

He stilled. “What are you saying?”

Bree sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. She’d pondered this decision and wanted him to know this wasn’t an impulsive choice on her part. “I’m going through the stones at Mid-Winter Fire … to return to you as a Marav woman.”

Cailean tried to sit up then, cursing as the abrupt movement pained him. “What?”

“I will go through Golval Barrow and then travel to The Ring of Caith.”

“No,” he rasped, alarm flaring in the depths of his eyes. “You can’t travel through Sheehallion … there’s a price on your head. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“But the Raven Queen will hunt you … and I won’t be there to watch your back.”

Bree’s mouth curved. My shield. “Aye, but she won’t catch me. I have Tivesheh. He’ll bear me swiftly. Mor won’t even know I’ve crossed the veil.”

“She’ll know.”

“I won’t be in Albia long enough for that to matter anyway. It’s only a two-day journey from the barrow to the stones.”

“But wouldn’t it be safer just to go to The Ring of Caith … and for you to pass through into Sheehallion and then back again?” His brow was furrowed now, his eyes shadowed with worry.

“No,” she replied softly. “Traveling through the stones exacts its price … even for us Shee. To try to pass through the veil twice in such a short time would likely kill me.”

His gaze narrowed. “Are you certain of this?”

She nodded. “Last spring, Gil dug up texts in the archives about the stone circles for me at Caisteal Gealaich … before my mission. They warned of this.”

Cailean was looking at her now as if she’d lost her mind. But she hadn’t. This decision had been building within her for days—and it had been surprisingly easy to settle upon. Tonight, as she’d climbed the stairs to their quarters, she finally made her choice. And now that she had, the ‘rightness’ of it settled into her bones.

Ever since meeting Flynn in Morae crannog, she’d thought about what he’d done. At the time, she hadn’t understood why he’d given up his long life for a Marav woman. But she did now.

“You don’t need to do this,” he said finally. “You know that I love you, whether you’re Shee or Marav. It makes no difference.”

Bree’s throat constricted. He hadn’t said those words out loud before. “And I love you,” she whispered. Shades, she did, so much that her chest ached.

He swallowed. “But to give up your long life … for me … it’s too much.”

Her mouth curved. “This isn’t just for you,” she whispered. “It’s for me too.” She leaned in once more so that their faces were just inches apart. “I want to grow old with you, Cailean mac Brochan … to let the years carve lines upon my face. In Sheehallion, it’s eternal spring, but Albia has seasons … and if I were Marav, my life would be like that too. Aye, it’ll be brief, but it’ll be beautiful .”