much been home . “It will be nice to have a home again. Someone to come home to. You mean for us to raise him together?”
That would not be unwelcome. Just being here brought back so many different feelings—some of which he wasn’t ready to deal with just yet.
“ Them ,” Ciarán corrected. “Him and the girl. I think it may work out.” He signaled Deidre for another bottle.
Raising them both. Yes, that had possibilities, though he had a feeling someone would come for the girl eventually. She was too valuable to forget about.
For a moment Kevighn stared into his nearly empty cup, pondering this turn of events. “I have a nephew.”
“You do.” Ciarán put a tanned hand on top of his. “I’ve taken good care of him for you.”
A stray thought made him suck in a breath. “What element can he command?”
Ciarán’s lips twitched. “I’ll let you figure it out yourself.”
A nephew. The more he thought about it, the more the despair he’d felt for so long faded away. Something new began to take root in his heart. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
Taking the bottle from Deidre, he refilled his mug, and Ciarán’s.
Kevighn raised his mug. “I think this deserves a toast.”
“To new beginnings?” Ciarán raised his mug.
Their mugs clinked. “To new beginnings.”
After many more rounds, the two of them staggered upstairs. They found the children in Aodhan’s room—Elise curled on the bed, fast asleep. Aodhan, also asleep, sat on the floor, back against the bed, a small sword in his lap.
“You’re teaching him to use a sword ?” Kevighn hissed.
“You’re just jealous because you don’t know how to use one,” Ciarán replied. His hood was now down, fully revealing the scar across his olive skin and his short dark hair.
This was true. Kevighn was a little jealous. But he wasn’t about to say it. “If she’s to stay here, she’ll need her own room. How exactly are we going to do this?”
They went back out into Ciarán’s sitting room and sat down. “What did you tell her? How did you lure her away from her father?”
“The old king is dead. So is Quinn, for that matter.” Kevighn recounted what had happened as they sat and drank even more.
“Ah, so you finally killed Quinn. How does it feel?” A bloodthirsty look gleamed in Ciarán’s eyes as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee. He never had liked Quinn much.
Kevighn shook his head and leaned back onto the chair. “Not like I thought. I don’t regret it. Not for one moment, not even knowing that he’d given me Aodhan. But … I thought revenge should be sweet. It felt … anticlimactic.”
“Yes, sometimes that happens.” Ciarán nodded, elbows still on his knees. “I can’t believe she turned up in Creideamh’s tree house. I told you the Bright Lady hasn’t forsaken you.”
“The girl was trying to get to Magnolia. She has a tree house. She also loves Creideamh’s tree house.” Kevighn hoped his fair blossom was well, wherever she may be.
“Who’s Magnolia?” Ciarán refilled their glasses from the bottle on the low table.
He sighed and took a long drink. “Where do I start?”
“Oh bother,” Ciarán muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. “Who is she? Mortal? High court? Someone or something you shouldn’t be falling for, as usual?”
“Probably all of the above.” Kevighn held out his hand in an empty gesture. “And what do you mean, as usual ?”He frowned.
Ciarán shook his head, ignoring his indignation. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“Fine.” Over more wine, Kevighn told Ciarán all about Magnolia—about hunting her for Tiana, Magnolia not becoming the sacrifice, her choosing Stiofán, the queen making her one of them, and the breakup …
“Ah, so that’s the girl,” Ciarán whispered, tapping his chin with his finger.
“When I left her, she was still aboard her brother’s airship.” Kevighn’s head rested on the back of the
That would not be unwelcome. Just being here brought back so many different feelings—some of which he wasn’t ready to deal with just yet.
“ Them ,” Ciarán corrected. “Him and the girl. I think it may work out.” He signaled Deidre for another bottle.
Raising them both. Yes, that had possibilities, though he had a feeling someone would come for the girl eventually. She was too valuable to forget about.
For a moment Kevighn stared into his nearly empty cup, pondering this turn of events. “I have a nephew.”
“You do.” Ciarán put a tanned hand on top of his. “I’ve taken good care of him for you.”
A stray thought made him suck in a breath. “What element can he command?”
Ciarán’s lips twitched. “I’ll let you figure it out yourself.”
A nephew. The more he thought about it, the more the despair he’d felt for so long faded away. Something new began to take root in his heart. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
Taking the bottle from Deidre, he refilled his mug, and Ciarán’s.
Kevighn raised his mug. “I think this deserves a toast.”
“To new beginnings?” Ciarán raised his mug.
Their mugs clinked. “To new beginnings.”
After many more rounds, the two of them staggered upstairs. They found the children in Aodhan’s room—Elise curled on the bed, fast asleep. Aodhan, also asleep, sat on the floor, back against the bed, a small sword in his lap.
“You’re teaching him to use a sword ?” Kevighn hissed.
“You’re just jealous because you don’t know how to use one,” Ciarán replied. His hood was now down, fully revealing the scar across his olive skin and his short dark hair.
This was true. Kevighn was a little jealous. But he wasn’t about to say it. “If she’s to stay here, she’ll need her own room. How exactly are we going to do this?”
They went back out into Ciarán’s sitting room and sat down. “What did you tell her? How did you lure her away from her father?”
“The old king is dead. So is Quinn, for that matter.” Kevighn recounted what had happened as they sat and drank even more.
“Ah, so you finally killed Quinn. How does it feel?” A bloodthirsty look gleamed in Ciarán’s eyes as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee. He never had liked Quinn much.
Kevighn shook his head and leaned back onto the chair. “Not like I thought. I don’t regret it. Not for one moment, not even knowing that he’d given me Aodhan. But … I thought revenge should be sweet. It felt … anticlimactic.”
“Yes, sometimes that happens.” Ciarán nodded, elbows still on his knees. “I can’t believe she turned up in Creideamh’s tree house. I told you the Bright Lady hasn’t forsaken you.”
“The girl was trying to get to Magnolia. She has a tree house. She also loves Creideamh’s tree house.” Kevighn hoped his fair blossom was well, wherever she may be.
“Who’s Magnolia?” Ciarán refilled their glasses from the bottle on the low table.
He sighed and took a long drink. “Where do I start?”
“Oh bother,” Ciarán muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. “Who is she? Mortal? High court? Someone or something you shouldn’t be falling for, as usual?”
“Probably all of the above.” Kevighn held out his hand in an empty gesture. “And what do you mean, as usual ?”He frowned.
Ciarán shook his head, ignoring his indignation. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“Fine.” Over more wine, Kevighn told Ciarán all about Magnolia—about hunting her for Tiana, Magnolia not becoming the sacrifice, her choosing Stiofán, the queen making her one of them, and the breakup …
“Ah, so that’s the girl,” Ciarán whispered, tapping his chin with his finger.
“When I left her, she was still aboard her brother’s airship.” Kevighn’s head rested on the back of the
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