“Are you sure?” Brigid clasped her hands tight. “I can fetch a key from Tarryn if you’re sure. It’s just—”
“No time.” Using power, Breen turned the lock, then opened the door.
Kiara sprawled just inside, and Breen dropped down beside her.
“She’s hurt!” Brigid spun on her heel. “I’ll get help.”
“Wait.”
Slow, Breen reminded herself. Easy. She pulled back everything Aisling had taught her, then laid her hands on the wound seeping blood at the back of Kiara’s head.
“I can see it. I can feel it.”
Slow, easy, she brought the light.
“It’s not deep,” she murmured. “But there’ll be pain. So gently.” She breathed in, breathed out, closing the wound that ran long but shallow. Soothing, shrinking the ugly knot, and the bruising.
When Kiara moaned, stirred, Breen spoke softly. “Lie still a minute. I know it pounds, I feel it. You feel sick, but lie still, let me finish.”
“I can fetch a potion from one of the healers,” Brigid began.
Kiara moaned again, stirred again. “Shana.”
“It’s all right. Another minute.”
But eyes wheeling now, Kiara shoved up to her hands and knees. “Shana. The taoiseach!”
“What happened? Was it Odran or—”
“Oh gods.” Kiara grabbed Brigid’s arm, dragged on it so she could stand. “Where is the taoiseach?”
“In his chamber. I—”
“Get help. His mother, mine, send them to him. Hurry, hurry.”
As Brigid raced off, Kiara swayed.
“You’re dizzy, come sit. Let me finish.”
“There’s no time. We have to stop her. Help me. I can’t run.”
“All right. Lean on me. What happened?”
“She struck me.”
“Shana? She hit you?”
“She’s so angry, and I think she’s lost her mind. Oh gods. She’s brewed a love potion and means him to drink it. I have to stop her. Oh, she’s damned herself, my dearest friend, and I must be the one to accuse her.”
* * *
While Kiara had lain unconscious, Shana climbed the tower steps. She put on her most contrite expression and knocked on Keegan’s door.
“Come.”
She kept her expression in place even when irritation rose on seeing he wasn’t alone. And clearly didn’t look pleased to see her.
“I’m interrupting,” she said, and smiled at Flynn.
“A pretty woman is always a welcome interruption, and we were just finished. Aye, Keegan?”
“Aye. I’ll see you at the Welcome, and we’ll speak again tomorrow.”
“Save a dance for me, won’t you?” Flynn said to Shana.
She gave him a smile, a flutter of lashes. “I will, of course.”
When he went out, Shana put the sorrowful look in her eyes, folded her hands at her waist. “And again I must apologize. I don’t like making it a habit, I can tell you, so hope this is the last I must.”
“It’s not to me you owe one.”
She nodded, moved to the fire in the generous sitting room—one she intended to make her own. “I know you believe that, and so I will, as when I cooled my temper, I realized how what I said to Breen could be misunderstood. I never meant to insult her, Keegan, but I see now I did, and I was only joking, as women often do, about you—and us. She was so upset by it, and said hard things, so I said hard things.”
Shaking her head, she turned back to him and saw—on that face she knew so well—he’d had more than enough of the entire matter.
“Women can be foolish about men, and I confess I felt a bit of jealousy myself, as a woman does when she meets the lover of one she’s bedded herself. Silly and foolish, and I’ll apologize to her. When I leave, I’ll go straight to her chamber and do so. But I owe you one for how I spoke to you. I was embarrassed.”
She smiled again, lifted her hands. “As you know well, my pride runs wide and runs deep. Will you, again, forgive me?”
“I will, of course.”
But she heard, clearly, the stiffness in his voice. Saw, clearly, the coolness in his eyes.
“Will you have a cup of wine with me—a bit of courage for me before I face Breen—and so we put the matter behind us?”
“I’ve other matters to see to before—”
“One cup of wine,” she said as she walked to the table holding the decanter. “And behind us it goes for well and good.”