Chapter Six

B rian flexed his shoulder, reaching back towards the dull ache from his wound. He hadn't won any of the competitions last night, just as he'd suspected. But this day, he'd decided to speak with Connor's wife, Aileen, to see what he could do to regain his full range of motion.

He noticed that the king had gathered a group of men together within the Great Chamber. From their age and appearance, he had a feeling they were the king's brothers. He recognised Connor among them.

Though it wasn't his place to eavesdrop, the men appeared concerned about something. And when Brian heard the mention of King John, he couldn't stop himself from moving in closer.

‘Is the king returning to Ireland?' Connor was asking.

‘I believe so. Sir Ademar spoke of large forces gathering in England.' Patrick's tone revealed a trace of frustration. ‘We think John is bringing an army to suppress some of the Normans in the north, likely Walter de Lacy or William de Braose. But we don't know when they will come.'

‘If they are already gathering, then mayhap by early summer,' Connor said.

The thought of King John's presence unnerved Brian for many reasons—but he'd never expected the king to invade. He needed to travel north to warn Morwenna and Robert. But since the king's forces were not here yet, there was still time to make decisions.

One of the men, who towered among the others, crossed his arms. ‘Will the king come to Laochre?'

‘He might,' Patrick answered. ‘We have enough Norman allies between Isabel and Genevieve's families. But even so, I want our forces doubled. We will need men at Ennisleigh to keep watch for ships. After our Bealtaine celebration tonight, I want our people guarded at all times.'

They began discussing their defences, but Brian's mind shifted to his sister's safety. He needed to travel north as soon as possible—and yet, Sir Ademar had demanded that he stay until after Bealtaine, for Velaria's sake. He was torn between protecting his family and protecting her.

He had no doubt that they would pressure her to marry even more if he left her behind. But if he took Velaria with him, her father would send soldiers to bring her back. They would never allow it.

Then, too, he questioned the strength of his fighting skills if they encountered a threat. Although Velaria was a strong fighter in her own right, she hadn't wielded a blade in nearly a year. He needed to believe that he could defend both of them, if needed. And that meant healing his shoulder.

Brian quietly left the men and asked one of the servants where to find the healer Aileen. He learned that Connor's wife was in the solarium with several other ladies. Although he didn't know if anything could be done—he walked up the spiral stairs to ask.

The moment he entered the solarium, all conversation ceased. One of the ladies asked, ‘Were you looking for Velaria?'

‘I was looking for the healer Aileen,' he corrected.

A woman with dark and silvery hair stood. ‘I am Aileen.' She turned to the others and said, ‘I will return in a little while.' To Brian, she said, ‘I suppose you were among the competitors last night.'

‘I was, aye.' He followed her down the hallway to a different room. She opened the door and inside he saw a table with a mortar and pestle, dried herbs, and bandages. He saw a pallet on the floor and a tall stool beside the table.

She motioned for him to sit down and then regarded him. ‘Where were you injured?'

He loosened the laces of his tunic and raised it over his head. ‘Your husband, Connor, suggested you might be able to help me with this. It's an old injury, but my sword fighting skills haven't been the same since.'

Her expression turned pensive. ‘And you discovered this last night, did you?'

‘I have not faced an opponent in the past year,' he admitted. Despite the training exercises he'd done, he hadn't realised it was this bad until now.

‘Raise both of your arms above your head,' she commanded. He obeyed but could not lift his right arm as high as his left.

‘Move your left arm in a circle from front to back. Then I want to see your right arm.'

Just as before, his right arm could only move so far. She pulled and pushed at his shoulder, pressing her hands against the muscle as she moved it.

‘You're lucky to be alive,' she said. ‘After an injury like this, you could easily have bled to death.'

‘I am fortunate,' he agreed, ‘but I want to know if there is any way to regain my old fighting skills.'

‘There are stretching movements you can do,' she said. After she moved his arm again, she said honestly, ‘But I think it would be best if you learned how to fight with your left hand.'

Though he should have expected this, it wasn't the answer he'd wanted to hear.

Even so, he asked her to show him the stretching motions. While she did, she asked, ‘Why do you wish to fight again?'

‘I was once the best fighter in Constantinople,' he admitted. ‘And now I don't know if I can protect anyone. Especially those I care about.'

‘Where is your family now?' she asked. Gently, she pressed his arm back, stretching the muscle until it grew uncomfortable.

‘My sister and her husband live in the north, at Dunbough. I am travelling to meet them there.'

‘And your parents?' she asked.

‘I have never met them,' he answered honestly. Although he sensed that he soon would, if Morwenna had anything to do with it. Unrest brewed within him, making him question what lay ahead.

Aileen released his arm and then asked him, ‘Is it necessary for you to fight again? Or is there something else you can do?'

He understood what she was implying. But in truth, he had no interest in farming or tending sheep. When he'd faced opponents in the arena, the people had cheered his name. But the price of being a champion was the guilt of the lives he'd taken.

No, he didn't want to become a killer once again. But he did need to know that he could defend his loved ones, regardless of the danger. He met her gaze and answered honestly, ‘I need to know that I can defend my family and friends.' Regardless of his bloodline, he'd been born into poverty. His sword skills were all he possessed. ‘It's the only way I can prove my worth.'

Her smile tightened. ‘And do you think my husband is not a man of worth since he can no longer use one of his hands?'

‘That's not what I said.'

‘No, but it's what you believe.' She stepped back and regarded him. ‘Think about what it is you truly want, Brian. There are many ways to be a man of honour. Find yours.'

That night, the king's son, Liam, returned to Laochre with his wife, Adriana, and four of their children. Velaria hadn't seen them in years, but Liam gave her a hard embrace. ‘I am glad to see you again. My father told me you returned from Constantinople.'

She gave a slight nod, and Adriana caught her in an embrace. ‘We will talk later. Liam and I...we've been to the Holy Land.' In the woman's eyes, Velaria felt a connection, one she'd never imagined. Without saying the words, her cousin's wife seemed to understand what she'd endured.

Unexpected emotions struck her, and for a moment, Velaria couldn't find any words to say. When she glanced up, she saw Savas standing across the room. He'd kept himself apart from the others, but when he saw her silent plea, he crossed over to her side.

After he reached her side, Velaria introduced him. ‘This is Brian of Penrith. We were both held captive in Constantinople.' Then she nodded to her cousins. ‘This is King Patrick's son and heir, Liam, along with his wife, Adriana.'

‘And our loud, ill-behaved children, of course,' Adriana said with a smile, reaching out to pull two of them apart.

The young boy glared at his younger sister. ‘Stop following me. I said I don't want to play.'

‘I wasn't following. I don't even like you!'

‘Enough,' Liam said.

Velaria met Savas's look and saw the amusement in his eyes. Though she'd been around children all her life, it was a sudden reminder of her father's demand to find a husband and start her own family.

A coldness slid over her spine, and Savas's hand brushed against hers. The warmth of his hand eased her fear, though she doubted if anyone else was aware of it.

The young girl started to cry, and Liam pulled her into his arms. ‘If you're crying, Gabriella, I suppose that means you're too tired for the festivities tonight.'

Immediately, the girl's eyes widened, and she blinked at her father. ‘I can stay awake.'

‘Are you certain?' He sent her a doubtful look, but she bobbed her head.

‘Yes, Papa.'

‘Good. Then leave your brother alone.' He ruffled her hair and set her down. ‘Go and see your grandmother. She might have ribbons for you.' Gabriella hurried towards the queen, and Isabel caught her in her arms.

Adriana turned back to them and said, ‘The women's competitions are tonight. Will you join them?'

‘No, I—I don't think so,' she said. Although the contests were harmless, like archery and foot races, Velaria had no desire to be noticed by anyone. It would only increase the chances of her mother and father pursuing more marriage offers for her.

‘Why not?' Liam asked.

‘I...don't want everyone watching me,' she said. Though that was part of it, it wasn't the only reason. She didn't want to be in any kind of arena with others surrounding her. The very idea brought back memories she didn't want to face—of the other women and men who had died. A wave of sorrow and guilt passed over her.

‘Would you be willing to help the other women and set up some of the games?' Adriana asked. ‘Many of them will be very nervous to compete. You could reassure them.'

‘All right.' The answer surprised even her, but the idea of helping others felt good.

Adriana smiled warmly. ‘I'm glad. After I've settled the children, come and join me on the training field.'

Liam walked away with his wife, leaving them alone. Velaria turned to Savas and saw a distant expression on his face. ‘Is something wrong?'

He led her outside again and said, ‘I overheard that King John is bringing an army of men from England to Ireland. Some of the noblemen in the north have rebelled against him.' The tension in his posture was evident. ‘My sister and her husband live there.'

Which meant he would be leaving soon. She'd known it, but she hadn't been prepared for the sinking feeling in her heart. For a moment, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't ask him to abandon his family during a time of need, despite her own desire for him to stay.

‘What will you do?'

He let out a breath. ‘Fight alongside them. Do everything I can to protect my sister and her family.'

Although she understood his reasons—and she'd have done the same for her own family—she couldn't help but feel left behind once again. Part of her yearned to go with him. She had no desire to remain here so her father could arrange a marriage she didn't want. Nor did she want to seem pathetic, like a woman chasing after a man.

But Savas confused her with his actions. He'd kissed her last night, implying that he wanted more between them. And despite her hesitation, she forced herself to voice the question. ‘Do you want me to come with you?'

‘Your father would never allow it,' he started to say.

But that was only an excuse. The answer was no, he didn't want her to accompany him. And somehow, a flare of anger caught her. Savas kept pulling her close and then pushing her away. Despite her own emotions, she was tired of feeling as if she weren't enough. She hadn't been enough for Drogan—he'd stolen her innocence and had discarded her. And despite spending two years with Savas, he still kept her at arms' length.

She'd had her fill of it.

Velaria kept her voice bright, revealing none of the pain beneath it. ‘Then I bid you a good journey when you travel north.'

She squared her shoulders and turned to walk away from him. Inwardly, she was trembling with the force of her frustration. Restless energy rose within her, and she strode towards the training field. Every time she was around Savas, her emotions seemed to crumble apart.

She had nearly reached the field when he caught up to her. ‘Velaria, wait.'

He caught her by the arm, and she wrenched her hand away. ‘Do not touch me.'

He raised his hands and backed off. ‘I don't want to put you in danger. The king's army—'

‘I faced danger every single day we were in captivity. But we faced it together,' she shot back. ‘It's clear that you want to be on your own. So go. I don't need to be shielded from the world. I know exactly how cruel it can be.'

He looked as if she'd struck him. But he met her gaze and said, ‘There are things you don't know about me, Velaria. And I don't know how it will change my future.'

Her anger was still blinding her, for she already knew that future didn't include her. ‘Keep your secrets, Savas. They don't affect me at all.'

‘And what if they do?' he demanded. He reached up to touch the side of her face, offering a slight caress that slid deep within her skin, making her crave more. And she hated herself for the weakness.

She kept her pride and informed him, ‘My family wants me to marry. If I want a different life, all I have to do is say yes.'

His expression turned hard as he accepted her silent challenge. ‘Do you want to wed any of those men?' When she gave no reply, he caught her by the waist and pulled her close. ‘Not one of them knows the kind of hell we walked through and survived. They don't know—and never will know—what it was like.'

She was taken aback by his sudden touch. Though she wanted to succumb to the embrace, to rest her head against his heartbeat, she forced herself to hold back. Slowly, she extricated herself from him, keeping her eyes fixed on his face. She'd made him angry, and it matched her own mood.

‘But you don't want me by your side, do you?' Her voice turned quiet as she waited for him to deny it. When he said nothing, she added, ‘If you're wanting to leave, Savas, I won't stop you.'

Before sundown that night, every fire in the kingdom was extinguished, and groups of men herded the cattle between the hills. Each farmer walked the perimeter of his lands, stopping at the four directions of east, south, west, and north to plant a seed and sprinkle ashes and water upon each. Brian joined the men and women atop the hill of Amadán, watching as Liam lit one of the Bealtaine fires. Within moments, the flames blazed in the night sky, followed by another fire on the opposite hill, which was lit by King Patrick. Below them, the cattle passed between the hills while a priest raised his arms high to give a blessing.

He looked for Velaria, but she'd been avoiding him ever since their argument. Though he'd wanted to tell her the truth about his heritage and share the burden of that secret, he was well aware that his father might deny him.

If he asked her to wed him, it would be the same as before. Her father would refuse the match, and how could he ask her to run away from her family again? Velaria deserved better than that. And the last thing Brian wanted was to pin his hopes on his own father, a man who didn't even know he'd fathered him.

He had to either find the strength to let her go—or convince her father that he was a man worthy of her.

Brian reached for one of the torches, and he joined the others in lighting it within the Bealtaine fires. On the opposite hillside, the others did the same, and slowly, a row of gleaming lights illuminated the darkness.

‘Let us go and light the hearth fires,' Liam proclaimed. They began walking down the hillside, and children joined them with candles. Liam lit one of them for his oldest son, who carried it solemnly before he helped his younger siblings light their candles.

The lights stretched out from the hills, leading all the way to Laochre Castle. As Brian walked among the others, he saw more lights gleaming upon a nearby island.

There was a sense of anticipation among the people, and as they reached the castle grounds, the scent of roasted meat and delicious foods filled the air. As the two crowds of people blended together, carrying torches and candles, Brian searched for a sign of Velaria.

Although he couldn't find her, he did see her father standing tall among the others. Ademar met his gaze with a nod, and Brian approached the man. ‘Good Bealtaine to you,' he greeted Ademar.

‘And to you.' The knight's expression remained stoic as he waited for Brian to continue.

‘I came to ask that you grant more time to Velaria,' he began. ‘She refuses to consider marriage.'

Her father's demeanour shifted into his own stubbornness. ‘Sometimes decisions must b-be made for a daughter's own good. She will be better f-for it.'

‘She should have the right to choose,' Brian argued.

‘And so she will. Tonight, after the champion of the w-women's competition is announced,' Ademar said.

It was clear that the knight was unwilling to relent. His demeanour was that of a protective father who intended to see to his daughter's future. But the thought of Velaria being trapped with a husband who would expect her to submit to him and bear children kindled a dark jealousy within him.

Brian would do everything in his power to protect her from an unwanted union. She deserved better than to be trapped in another set of invisible chains.

All around them, the MacEgans continued past with their torches and candles, and Ademar joined them. They reached the inner bailey with the others, and on the other side, he saw Lady Katherine standing with her sister, Honora.

But before the women walked towards them, Ademar turned back. His blue eyes flared, and he said, ‘If you plan to ask Velaria to w-wed, the answer is no.'

Brian stared back at Ademar in a silent challenge of his own. ‘As you said before—that choice is hers.'

Before the women could reach them, Brian made his way through the crowd towards the opposite side. Inwardly, his thoughts were a churning storm of unspoken plans. He needed to talk with Velaria again. She was angry with him—there was no doubt of that. But she needed to understand that if he brought her with him, it would cause an uproar with her family. Her father would send soldiers, which would only deepen the conflict.

The priest gathered at the front of the dais to offer prayers for the coming summer. The king and queen joined him, along with their daughter, Mairead. She wore a crown of wood, woven with dried flowers, while several other maidens wore similar May crowns.

These were the maidens who had decided to join in tonight's competitions, but Velaria was not among them. After the priest had finished the blessing, the maidens walked towards the different events, and it was then that he saw her standing apart from the others.

This time, she had removed her veil, and she stood among the others. Her hair was bound back from her forehead, but it hung to the middle of her back in soft waves. The sight of her brought an ache within him.

Brian was fully aware that he wasn't the only man watching Velaria. Though he didn't speak the Irish language, he'd seen several warriors drawing closer to watch the competitions. Several had their attention fixed upon her, and many of them would try to win her hand in marriage. His fists clenched at the thought.

He wondered if he should damn the consequences and simply ask her. He had the means of helping her escape a marriage she didn't want. All he had to do was give her the choice.

The women began their competition, and Brian moved towards them. Although he'd caught Mairead sending him a few interested looks, his concentration was still upon Velaria.

He pushed his way past the crowd of people until he reached her side. She stood beside a stone wall and was congratulating the young woman who had won the foot race. When she turned and saw him, her expression tensed.

‘Could we talk for a moment?' he asked.

‘I have nothing to say to you.' She started to walk away, but he reached out to her arm. Though he'd only meant to stop her, she twisted away in a defensive movement that was familiar. Without thinking, he spun her around and pinned her against the wall. The moment their bodies touched, heat blazed through him, even as fury brewed in her eyes.

‘Savas, let go of me.'

At first, he meant to do exactly that. But the closeness of her body against his was a reminder of what he truly desired. He couldn't deny that he wanted Velaria more than the next breath. And the softness of her body against his evoked a craving that drew him to the edge of need.

‘Your father plans to announce your betrothal tonight,' he cautioned.

‘He can say whatever he likes. I will not wed a man of his choosing.' Her anger turned fierce, and she said, ‘We're attracting attention. If you don't release me now, the men will—'

‘You know exactly how to free yourself,' he challenged. ‘Do it.'

Her expression shifted. ‘I don't know what you're trying to prove, but—'

‘Or have you forgotten how?' He leaned in close, waiting to see if she remembered her training.

A moment later, she shoved him back and twisted in his arms, seizing the blade at his waist. She stood in a defensive stance, her temper flaring. ‘Don't try to force me to fight, Savas. I won't do it.'

‘Your father will give you a choice of suitors,' he countered, circling her as he stayed clear of his own dagger. ‘But if you do not choose, he will choose for you, in front of everyone. I came to warn you.'

He waited for her to lower her defences while she considered what he'd said. But the moment he seized her wrist to steal back his blade, she spun again and kicked him back. Whether or not she was aware of it, several onlookers encircled them to watch. Even the maidens had ceased their foot race, turning back to them. But Velaria seemed unaware.

‘I won't do it.'

Brian tried to redirect her into a corner, and instead, she shifted her direction, cornering him instead. He hid his smile, for this was the fighter he knew.

‘He believes he knows what is best for you,' he countered. Slowly, he guided her towards the centre of the circle.

He was trying to provoke her, wanting her to unleash the tight control. She was one of the greatest fighters he'd ever met, and he didn't want her to subdue that part of herself. If that meant pushing her to remember who she was, so be it.

Velaria cursed, and then he made his move, diving towards her and knocking her off her feet. There was a shout from someone, but he ignored it as she rolled over and pinned him to the ground with his own blade at his throat. There was a look of triumph in her eyes, but he knew her too well.

Brian held her wrist as he sat up, his stomach muscles flexing. Her legs were straddled across his, and he gritted his teeth as desire flared through him. He held her in his arms and stood before he disarmed her and tossed the dagger away.

‘What are you doing?' she demanded. Her face had turned crimson, but she didn't struggle or try to break free of him.

‘I tried to convince your father to let you have your freedom. But he refused.' Brian kept his arms around her and gently lowered her to the ground.

‘So, I think it's best if you wed me instead.'

Velaria stared at him in disbelief. Was he truly offering to marry her? After he'd just told her he was planning to leave her behind? She didn't know what to say, and at first, she simply gaped at him.

His blue eyes darkened. He leaned in against her ear and murmured, ‘You said you would run away if your father tried to force you to marry. But you won't have to leave if you wed me. I would grant you whatever freedom you wish. I would not demand that you share my bed or ask you to be a wife to me in anything but name.'

Then it was a shadow of a marriage. She didn't know what was worse—to take whatever bargain he offered or to hold the remnants of her pride and refuse. Her mind was troubled with confusion, and he reached out for her hand. ‘Think upon it. It is another choice you can consider.'

And with that, he released her and walked away.

It took only moments before her father reached her side. ‘Are you all right?' He glanced back at Savas with unveiled fury. It seemed that Ademar fully intended to go after him to avenge her honour.

‘I am,' she said. But to avoid her father causing more bloodshed, she lied, ‘It was only a demonstration to the other women of how to avoid an attack.'

When Ademar didn't seem to believe her, she lifted her chin in silent defiance. ‘Father, he did not harm me. I promise you that.'

The knight met her gaze with stubbornness of his own. ‘Three men have offered a generous bride p-price for you. Avar of Gall Tír, Eamon ó Phelan, and w-we also had an offer from Blaine de Renalt. Any of them w-would treat you well.'

‘Why do you keep insisting that marriage will make me happy?' she asked softly. ‘I've said no already. If you try to force me to wed, I will leave.'

‘You need a new p-purpose,' he said softly. ‘Someone to l-look after so you'll stop thinking about the past. Perhaps children of your own.'

There was love beneath his intentions, and for that reason, she stopped arguing. ‘I'll look after you and Mother,' she answered. ‘It's enough for me.'

‘We want more for you.' He embraced her lightly. ‘Th-think on it, Velaria.'

She hugged him back and then went to join the other women. Along the way, she thought of what Savas had said. His offer of marriage was born of pity, nothing more.

Although he'd kissed her back the other night, she had been the one to kiss him first. It would break her heart every day to look at him and know that she wasn't truly wanted. But more than that, she sensed that there was a great deal he wasn't telling her. One moment, he behaved as if her family's wealth intimidated him—and the next, he was asking her to wed. Something had changed, but what?

Adriana stepped over to Velaria's side and took her arm. ‘Thank you for your help this eventide. I am grateful for it.' She led her away from the competitions, and Velaria remained at her side.

‘I wanted to ask how you are,' Adriana said. ‘I know how...difficult it was when Liam and I were at Acre with King Richard's forces.' Her voice held a trace of a shadow when she spoke of it. ‘So much bloodshed.'

‘It was difficult,' Velaria agreed. ‘Sometimes, I thought we would never make it out alive.' A heaviness weighed upon her, though she tried to force it back. Tonight was the first moment she'd started to feel useful. And perhaps that was what was missing—a chance to fill the hours.

‘It's good that you have each other,' Adriana said. ‘I don't know that I would have survived without Liam. He stood by me through everything.'

‘Oh, we don't—' Her words broke off, for she didn't want Adriana to believe she and Savas were more than companions. Not when she didn't know herself what they were to one another.

The woman's expression held understanding, but she added, ‘He came to Laochre for your sake. And it's clear that he cares from the way he watches over you.'

Velaria didn't truly believe that. She was saved from having to answer when Adriana directed several servants to help put away the straw targets and the bows and arrows. The woman was constantly in motion, silently guiding the Bealtaine preparations while her husband, Liam, spoke to the people. King Patrick and Queen Isabel were still present, but they both hung back, watching.

Before Adriana could continue on, Velaria stopped her. ‘Has something happened tonight with the king and queen?'

The woman paused a moment and admitted, ‘Patrick has considered stepping down as king. Liam has to prove he is worthy to take the throne. As do I.'

There was a thread of anxiety in her voice, and Velaria felt the need to reassure her. ‘You're ready. I believe that.'

Adriana ventured a slight smile. ‘I hope so.'

The two champions were led to stand near a large bush made of whitethorn, and children held bright ribbons, flowers, and other trinkets. They came forward to decorate the May bush, and soon enough, the bush was filled with colourful adornments, including a few dyed eggshells.

After that, pipers began to play, and several dancers led a procession throughout the inner bailey. An older woman began passing out iron nails to each of the people as protection against the fairy folk.

Velaria had disappeared among the people, but Brian took one of the nails, tucking it within a fold of his cloak. Torches illuminated the space, and all around him, he heard the sound of laughter and music.

Liam stepped forward in front of his father, King Patrick, and raised his hands to gain their attention. The song finished playing, and soon, the crowd turned to hear him speak. ‘We bid you a blessed Bealtaine on this night. May your fields be fertile, and your families have good fortune in the coming year.' He invited the two champions to join him upon the dais, and the young man and woman received another blessing. Adriana then joined her husband and invited the others to join in the Bealtaine feast.

Brian walked through the crowd, searching for Velaria, but she seemed to have disappeared once again. He was about to walk in the opposite direction when Velaria's aunt Honora and another man approached. The man kept his arm around her, and though his face showed the lines of age, his build was that of an exceptionally strong warrior.

‘My wife has been wanting to meet you,' the man said. ‘I am Ewan MacEgan. And this is Honora. I believe you're already acquainted with our niece.'

Although his tone was light and easy, Brian didn't miss the hint of warning. He introduced himself before he turned to Honora and said, ‘You should know that your training saved Velaria's life. If you had not taught her to wield a sword, she would not be alive today.'

For a moment, a flash of emotion crossed the woman's face. Then, she gave a nod of acknowledgement. ‘I've always thought that every woman should be able to defend herself.'

‘Velaria did well. And she saved my life,' Brian said.

Ewan's expression twisted when he glanced at the scar that ran from Brian's shoulder to his neck. ‘It looks as if she tried to take it from you.'

With a shrug, he added, ‘I suppose there are times she wishes she hadn't pulled back her sword. I've been known to irritate her.'

Ewan's hearty laugh surprised him. ‘My wife has felt the same way many times.'

‘Every day,' Honora agreed. But she leaned over and kissed her husband.

The easy affection between them was something Brian had never imagined was possible. But part of him wanted to have the same companionship of a wife.

He'd made the marriage offer to Velaria as a form of sanctuary—yet he couldn't deny that he wanted her. If she agreed to wed him, it might change everything between them, even though he would honour her wishes if she wanted to remain untouched.

‘How is she?' Honora asked quietly. ‘I've not seen her fight since she arrived. At least, not until she pulled a blade on you just now.'

Ewan was still smiling. ‘I enjoyed watching that fight. It reminded me of my beloved wife when we first met.' He winked at Honora.

‘Why did Velaria fight you?' Honora's voice held a trace of accusation, and he could fully imagine her wielding a knife against him. ‘What did you do?'

He didn't know how to answer that. ‘Velaria was angry with me,' he hedged.

‘Well, that was clear enough.' Honora rolled her eyes. Then she turned serious. ‘What happened to her in Constantinople? She's not the girl I once knew. She never wore gowns or veils in the past.'

‘She's trying to forget our days of captivity,' he answered. ‘By becoming someone else.'

‘What did you say that made her so angry?' Ewan asked.

He was saved from having to answer when he saw Sir Ademar approach the dais. He was joined by his wife, Katherine, and the king, though King Patrick appeared somewhat uneasy about it. It appeared that the knight intended to keep his promise of announcing a betrothal for Velaria.

And something within him snapped. Brian pushed his way through the gathering crowd. Velaria was nowhere to be found, which he supposed was her own way of avoiding the situation. But once her father made the announcement, it might cause difficulty with the bridegroom he'd chosen, especially when Velaria refused. Brian hurried past the onlookers until he was nearly at the dais.

‘Bealtaine is a time f-for joyful celebration,' Sir Ademar began. ‘And I am p-pleased to share that my daughter Velaria will be betrothed this night.' Lady Katherine touched her husband's elbow and leaned in to whisper to him. But the knight stiffened and continued. ‘She has chosen—'

‘Me,' Brian called out. ‘ I am Velaria's betrothed husband.'

There was a stir within the crowd, as if he'd interrupted plans that had already been made. But Brian didn't care. This was about keeping Velaria safe and protecting her from a marriage she didn't want.

But then, the crowd applauded, and soon enough, they continued on with their feasting. Sir Ademar appeared furious at Brian's interference, and as soon as he climbed the dais, the tall knight caught his arm. ‘I said already that y-you would not be permitted to m-marry my daughter.' His face held anger, and he regarded Brian. ‘We p-paid you to come to Ireland to help our daughter. Not to w-wed her.'

It was then that Brian saw Velaria had come towards them and was now staring at him with shock. She'd clearly overheard her father's words, and hurt broke over her face.

‘You have no future to offer her,' the knight continued. ‘I will not p-permit it.'

But Brian straightened and regarded both her father and the king. ‘Our future is yet to be determined. I will wed her and bring her north to my sister at Dunbough.'

‘Velaria deserves b-better than the son of a miller,' Ademar said quietly.

An uneasiness slid within him, but Brian forced himself to stand his ground. He hadn't intended to reveal the truth, but he saw no other choice. If he went along with their assumption, they would never allow him to take care of Velaria. And he simply couldn't watch her be imprisoned or held captive by a husband who would never understand what she'd endured.

‘I am not the son of a miller,' he said quietly. He raised his eyes to regard both Sir Ademar and his wife. ‘I am the bastard son of King John of England.'