She actually had no idea about any of that save a rather unpleasant trip up the river from Sàraichte to Beinn òrain, then an even more unpleasant trip from there to an elven land where she had been tossed in a dungeon, but that had been west of everything she’d ever seen. In truth, she had no idea what the East contained, but it sounded uncharted enough for her purposes—
“Ah, Léirsinn, my love,” a voice said suddenly from the doorway. “I feared you might have become lost.”
She suppressed an enormous sigh of relief, mostly because she didn’t think she should be indulging in that sort of thing while they were still inside the palace walls. She was beginning to suspect that was a dangerous place to be.
“The king was kind enough to rescue me,” she said, pushing herself away from her chair. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Mansourah rushed into the solar, looking terribly concerned. He looked her over, then turned to the king. “I believe she is very unwell. Forgive us, Your Majesty, if we cut our visit short.”
Simeon pursed his lips. “Another time, then,” he said dismissively.
“Assuredly so,” Mansourah said, inclining his head slightly.
Léirsinn thought she might go back to her uncle’s barn before she paid another visit to Simeon of Diarmailt, but she supposed no one cared about her thoughts. She listened to Mansourah and the king make polite, royal chitchat and forced herself not to look behind her to see if Acair might be visible from where she stood. She wasn’t unhappy when Mansourah managed to get them out of the solar and heading off toward the front doors. The king coming along was simply a happy bit of good fortune, to her mind.
“If you tire of Tor Neroche,” the king said, “do consider making another visit.”
She realized he was talking to her, then wished she’d remained oblivious. She forced herself to smile when what she wanted to do was clout him on the nose.
“What a tremendous offer, Your Majesty,” she managed. “I’m sure His Royal Highness and I would count that as a great honor on our honeymoon tour. Wouldn’t we, Mansourah, my love?”
Mansourah lifted an eyebrow. “A delightful idea, of course. Thank you, Your Majesty, for the courtesy. I’ll make certain my brother the king hears about your graciousness.”
If the erstwhile king of Diarmailt said anything else, Léirsinn didn’t hear it. Mansourah was very proficient at making a hasty yet polite exit and before she knew it, she had been bundled into a carriage and they were heading out of the gates at a decent clip. Mansourah didn’t look concerned, so either he didn’t know Acair was in the palace or he didn’t care.
The third possibility was that he refrained from commenting on the location of their companion because they were still surrounded by the king’s guards and those guards didn’t seem particularly friendly.
She could only hope Acair wouldn’t find himself similarly surrounded because there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to rescue him if so.
Four
It was one thing to pinch the odd, priceless treasure whilst masquerading as a peasant, yet still having one’s magic to fall back on if things went a bit sour. Making an escape without the ability to turn oneself into a brisk winter wind in order to whip past any potentially offended owners of priceless treasures was quite another.
Acair was, he was willing to concede, nothing if not versatile when it came to saving his own sweet neck whilst still holding onto the goods, so he carried on with bolting through back alleyways and across gardens, Simeon of Diarmailt’s cherished book of spells tucked securely under his arm. Truly, there were few in the world with his ability to borrow and bolt, as his mother was wont to term it. He had to admit that watching a few less-than-savvy lads attempt the same at her expense during his youth had been extremely instructive when it came to what not to do.
He let himself into the inn’s garden through a gate in the hedge that he’d used more than once in the past for just such a thing, then tiptoed across the garden, keeping to the shadows. Why he bothered in the dark, he couldn’t have said, but there it was. Old habits died hard.
A quick hop or two up very useful bits of building and a careful scoot along a ledge left him sliding open the window he’d left unlocked on his way out and rolling back inside the chamber just in time to hear voices at the door. He flung his cloak onto the sofa and leapt over to one of the chairs in front of the fire.
If he sat down rather quickly without remembering that he had a damned book wedged into his belt and it subsequently tore what felt like a gaping hole into the flesh of his lower back, well, that was the price for the spoils. He shifted a bit to alleviate the worst of the pain, then assumed a casual pose before the door opened and Léirsinn rushed inside.
She came to a skidding halt halfway across the chamber. “Oh,” she said. “You’re here.”
He was desperate to gasp in a few restorative breaths, but that damned busybody from Neroche was hard on her heels. It wouldn’t do to provide anything interesting for that one to poke his nose into.
“Of course,” he said, trying not to wheeze. “How was tea?”
“Terrible,” Mansourah said, tossing his cloak onto the sofa without apparently noticing what was already there. He accepted Léirsinn’s wrap, then saw Léirsinn seated in the unoccupied chair there in front of the hearth. He looked at Acair. “Move.”
At any other time, Acair would have simply responded to the offer with a cool look, but the present moment demanded a bit more discretion than usual. He heaved himself up out of the chair and was happy to use that exertion as an excuse to catch his breath. He looked at Léirsinn to find her watching him more closely than he was comfortable with—
That thought was enough to leave him wanting to clap his hand to his forehead. Never in all his years had he ever complained about a woman favoring him with a lingering look, no matter her reason.
Truly, his life was no longer his own.
Mansourah sat down and stretched his legs out. “I hope you kept yourself sufficiently busy tonight.”
“Polishing your boots, of course,” Acair said, attempting a casual lean against the mantel. “Pedestrian labor, of course, but I’m nothing if not accommodating. How was the pretender tonight?”
“As unpleasant as he usually is,” Mansourah said with a gusty sigh. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t poisoned him yet, but perhaps no one finds him worth the effort. His magic could certainly use a bit of propping up.”
Acair agreed, of course, but that was probably best left unsaid. As for anything else, the things he knew about Simeon of Diarmailt’s desires for a substantial bit of additional magic would have given the rest of the world nightmares, he was sure.
“Léirsinn, what did you think?” Mansourah asked.
“I didn’t like him at all,” she said carefully. “His solar was not a place I would have cared to linger.” She paused. “I’m not sure why anyone would want to pay a visit there.”