Page 95 of First Light
Carys turned to Dafydd. “Was it true that Lachlan was planning to give up the seat of power here and leave Alba for Cymru?”
“Yes.” Dafydd kept his voice low. “Seren told me that was their ultimate plan when she asked permission to marry him. They wanted to put Lachlan’s brother Rory on the throne. It was a good plan, otherwise I could have never allowed her to marry him.”
“They had to ask permission to get married?”
“Lachlan and Seren weren’t farmers in the village. Those of ourstation do not marry for affection; we marry for alliance and political purpose. For Lachlan and Seren to wed, there were many meetings between me and Robb, between Elanor and Eamer. In the end, it was only the threat of them running away—and the knowledge that they could both disappear into the Brightlands—that made us allow it.”
Carys nodded. “They’d both been across the gates before.”
“And they had connections via Duncan,” Dafydd said. “Robb has always resented Duncan forexisting, but he knows that if he alienates Lachlan’s twin, he’ll lose his oldest son. And Duncan…” Dafydd frowned. “He has something over Robb, but I don’t know what it is. Some power.”
Carys tucked that away to ask Duncan about later. “Did Robb know that was their plan?”
“No, he was convinced I would pick another heir, and I let him think I was considering it.” Dafydd shook his head. “It was the one secret I kept from Robb because Seren asked me to, and I still regret it.”
“I think that maybe that secret might be what killed her.”
“You think someone killed her so Lachlan wouldn’t leave?” He stepped back. “But who would?—”
“Maybe it wasn’t because Lachlan was going to leave.” Carys was quick to jump in because she could tell that Dafydd didn’t want to suspect Robb of his daughter’s death. “Maybenottelling people their plans made others think that Alba and Cymru would join kingdoms under Seren and Lachlan.”
Dafydd’s face grew pale. “And no one would want a united Alba and Cymru. The power imbalance would be too great.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.”
Dafydd stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked toward Mared and Cadell. He walked in silence for a long time, staring at Mared in a way that made Carys think they were having some kind of conversation. A few moments later, he walked back.
“Mared and I will help you. I cannot question my daughter’s death openly without risking the peace, but we will help you find who killed my daughter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You know, when you asked me the other day, it didn’t even occur to me that Seren’s journals would be among her books.” Aisling was digging through a corner of the castle library where wooden crates were stacked. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“It’s fine.” Carys glanced at Duncan. “I’m just glad they weren’t lost.”
“Well, they were a little.” Aisling brushed back a lock of hair that had come out of her braid. “Robb doesn’t employ scribes like the Éiren court does, so the task of going through Seren’s books was given to me, and I’ve just been so…” Aisling sighed.
“You’re a busy woman,” Duncan said gruffly. “They should get you some help.”
“Ha!” Aisling’s mouth turned up at the corner. “That would be a dream. If I were in charge of this grand library, I would employ an army of scribes and scholars, but alas…”
Carys smiled. “Not your call?”
Aisling shrugged. “All I have is one apprentice from the village and a few servants to clean up.”
“That must be frustrating.” Carys looked around the castle library, which was dusty and disorganized. If they were depending on Aisling to organize it, it would be an overwhelming task.
“But I do love being in the library,” Aisling continued. “It’s not really my job. And technically I’m only an apprentice mage myself, because to finish my studies I have to finish my grimoire and my amulet, and I can’t really do that while Regan is jumping from one court to another, can I?” She popped her head up from the crates. “I apologize, these are my own frustrations and they’re not your concern.”
Carys saw in Aisling the echoes of academia at home. “No, I get it. When I was a graduate student, I felt like my desk was the dumping ground for every task no one in the department wanted.”
“So it’s the same in the Brightlands.” Aisling returned to the crates. “Duncan, could you…”
“Of course.” He stepped forward and gripped the heavy crate Aisling was pointing toward. He lifted the wooden box over his head like it was made of feathers, and Carys blinked when she realized she was staring at his back where it narrowed to his hips. It was too bad his kilt covered his backside. She’d love to see him in a pair of well-worn jeans that defined?—
Fuck.
Carys looked at the ground, kicking a dust bunny that rolled across the intricately tiled floor. She cleared her throat. “This library is huge though. Clearly built by someone who loved books.”