Again, Shana pressed a hand to her heart. “And she flew at me, with such fury I thought she might strike me.”
“And did she fly at you before or after you told her she held responsibility for the fallen?”
She dropped her hand to her side. It burned, Shana discovered, the anger. But more scalding, the realization she’d misjudged her quarry. “Why would I say such a horrible thing?”
“Why indeed, Shana?”
“I tell you I did not, would not. But I see, oh aye, I see you take her word over mine, this woman from the outside, this woman you’ve known only months. You take her word over that of one of your own.”
She snatched up his tankard, drank to wash the bitter taste from her mouth. “She’s bespelled you, that has to be the truth of this. All saw the anger of her power this day.”
She heaved the tankard at the wall. “You are bewitched, and how can any trust you as taoiseach when one from outside, one with the blood of Odran, grips your will in her hand?”
When he let the silence hold a moment, another, she felt another lick of fear. When Keegan took time to hold his temper, when he chose his words deliberately, they could bite.
“Have a care, Shana, with what you say to me here. Have a care before you make accusations unfounded and untrue. As if you say them to others, make them to others outside this room, you won’t like the consequences.”
His words shocked her, but no more than the cold look on his face, the hard ice in his eyes. “You—you threaten me?”
“I warn you. I am taoiseach, and your taoiseach tells you now to guard your words. I tell you to keep good space between yourself and Breen Siobhan O’Ceallaigh. I release you from the courtesy of offering her welcome.”
At her sides, Shana’s hands fisted until her nails dug into her palms. “You would bar me from the Welcome tonight?”
“I won’t, no, as it would bring shame on your parents. But I warn you, for their sakes and your own, keep clear of her. She’ll only be in the Capital for a short time. I trust—must trust—that whenever she returns, you’ll have settled yourself.”
“I am settled, Taoiseach.” She spoke coldly now, her face like stone. “I am well settled. And I tell you in turn, you’ll regret your alliance with such as her.”
When she turned away, he let her storm out.
Twice now, he thought, Shana had clearly shown him what she was. So he regretted, very much, his alliance with such as her.
But considered the matter closed.
He walked over to pick up the dented tankard, and holding it, studied the map of Talamh on the wall.
And there were so many things, so many far more important things to worry about than a former lover’s ire.
* * *
With Brian on duty, Marco insisted on taking Breen down to the village. The long walk pleased Bollocks—and gave him another chance to jump in the river.
And it gave Breen a chance to see life in the Capital outside the castle.
She decided people gathering around the well equaled Talamh’s version of the office watercooler. Men and women chatted away while they filled jugs and buckets. Others leaned on the well, taking their ease while they talked.
Clothes flapped on lines behind cottages; sheep and cows grazed in pastures.
She watched a man and woman unloading bricks of peat from a wagon, and a woman—ripely pregnant—carrying a basket of fall vegetables into a pub where the music of a flute piped out like laughter.
Though the air blew brisk, the sun beamed, and that combined to create an ideal autumn day. Shopkeepers brought wares out into stalls to tempt passersby with more vegetables as colorful as a carnival, baked goods and leather goods, wooden toys and bowls and spoons, trinkets and jewelry, ribbons and buttons.
Shawls and scarves, caps and sweaters hung from pegs while in the next stall a cobbler hummed as he hammered the sole of a boot into place.
“Brian says it stays pretty busy,” Marco told her. “People come in to trade or set up a stall, maybe visit the castle grounds or some of the local sights.”
“It’s all bigger than I imagined.”
And full of life, she thought. Energy, movement.
“If we have a chance to come down again, we should bring something to trade. I made a few bracelets, but I didn’t think to bring them today. I’ve got a charm bag in my pocket, and a little bag of crystals. I’ll put something more together for next time. I’d like to find something to give Nan.”
As she thought of it, she saw a woman sitting in a rocking chair. Raven-black hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, and a pumpkin-colored shawl wrapped around her shoulders.