Page 115 of First Light
“It’ll be fine, and I’ll fill you in later.” She looked up at Duncan. “I promise. Cadell will be listening for me.”
Duncan looked like he wanted to say something, but he pressed his lips together and gave her a quick nod before he glanced over his shoulder. “Lachlan is watching.”
“Fine.” She heard her own voice. It was clipped and angry. “He can watch all he wants.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Carys drifted along the edge of the hall for a few long minutes, her eyes darting between Cadell, then to Lachlan, then to Duncan, then to the head table again, where Eamer was still missing.
She slipped out the door as a new song started and people were moving into position and grabbing partners for the dance. Ducking into the hallway outside, she maneuvered around a clutch of guards and through the curtains that separated the corridor from the portrait gallery.
She saw Eamer standing at the end of the hall, near the wedding portrait of Seren and Lachlan. She was staring at the portrait as Carys approached, her deep-set eyes trained on the image of her dead stepdaughter.
Nêrys, I will remain in the corridor. If you need me, all you have to do is call.
With Cadell’s voice in her mind, she approached Queen Eamer.
Eamer must have heard her, but she continued to stare at Seren’s portrait.
The queen was wearing a velvet dress in a color that remindedCarys of dense moss in a shadowy forest. The velvet curved down her back and trailed along the floor, mirroring her waterfall of dark hair. The deep brown was threaded with silver at her temples, and bright red rubies glittered at her ears.
“We were very different; she never called me her mother.” Eamer turned to her. “I understood. Elanor was more a mother to her than I was. By the time we met, she was already ten years old. Within a year she was in training with Cadell.”
Carys approached carefully. “And you had never trained as a warrior.”
Eamer lifted her chin. “I am the second daughter of Queen Orla of Éire. I was trained in politics, languages, and foreign relations. From the time of my birth, I knew I would marry for political alliance.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “So no. I never trained as a warrior. Fae guards protected me as a child, and fae-trained guardians followed me to my husband’s court.”
“And that’s allowed? To have guards loyal to you above King Dafydd in his court?”
She cocked her head. “The Queens’ Pact demands it. For political marriages and for children. Seren had a Cymric guard here in Robb’s court as well.”
“Good to know.” Carys walked over to the bench where she’d sat with Dafydd the first time. “Why did you want to speak with me?”
Eamer joined her, sitting stiffly across from her. Carys didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone with as straight a posture as Eamer’s.
“You really are her twin.” Eamer’s eyes glittered in fascination. “I know I am Shadowkin. That I came into being by magic, the dark mirror of a human in your world. I know that somewhere in the Brightlands, my own twin exists, living a life with probably far more freedom than mine.” She looked into the fire. “But I don’t want to meet her. I don’t want to know her. I have no need for her kinship or her regard.”
“Did Seren?”
Eamer angled her head. “I never asked her. I would guess not.There are those in this place who dream of the sun, but I was never one of them. I would guess Seren wasn’t either. Who would choose sunlight over magic?”
Carys smiled a little. “So you have magic?”
“All Shadowkin are capable of magic, though some spend more time cultivating it than others. Earth magic belongs to all of us if we know where to look for it.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Eamer lifted one eyebrow. “I don’t owe you an answer.”
Carys didn’t know what to make of this queen. At first she’d read Eamer’s severity as hostility, but she was starting to think that wasn’t quite right. “Did you like Seren?”
Eamer took a long time to answer. She folded her hands on her lap and considered her words.
“Seren was not someone I would ever choose as a friend,” Eamer said. “She was reckless and judgmental. Quick to anger and too passionate in my opinion. She was raised by a father who adored her and indulged her, then fostered by a court who also indulged her because she was the only child of a close ally.”
Carys smiled. “You’re really good at not answering questions.”
“It didn’t matter that I didn’t like Seren. She was Dafydd’s daughter, the future queen of Cymru. My like or dislike did nothing for her. I tried to teach her temperance, which she rejected.” Eamer released her hands, which gripped each other on her lap, and ran her fingers over a seam of her dress. “Whether I liked her or not had nothing to do with my regard for her. I am not a violent woman, but I would have killed to protect her.” Eamer’s eyes met Carys’s. “Am I telling the truth?”