Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth) Read Free Page A

Lassaire’s other side and craned his neck to look at me. “You’re not eating. Are you well?”
    Before I could answer, Devnet intervened. “I fear Lady Maeve is glum because she’s thinking about the farewells to come later this morning.” He gazed at me fondly and added, “Lift your spirit, Princess. There are no final partings between friends as long as we hold each other’s hearts. That’s the truth I know; do you accept it?”
    I lowered my eyelashes and smiled. “I must believe what you say, Devnet. I’m not foolish enough to call a bard a liar.” My reply drew laughter and cries of good-humored approval from the household. I even thought I heard Kian murmur “Well said” from his place beside me, but when I dared to glance at him, he twitched his head away.
    We had our goodbyes after breakfast. I’d been brought to Dún Beithe by Father’s trusted charioteer, Fechin. Now he was driving back laden with gifts from Lord Artegal to the High King. His body bore the scars of countless battles at Father’s side, but his courage crumpled when it was time to leave me.
    “Fechin, are you going to carry on like this all the way home?” I hugged him tightly, then held him at arm’s length. “Look at you! Your face is soaked with tears and your nose is—ugh. You’d better clean that stuff out of your mustache before you go.” I kissed him repeatedly anyhow.
    “This is how I am, Lady Maeve,” he mumbled. “I’m too old to change my heart. I’ve known you since you were a baby.…”
    “Well, I’ve known you since I was a baby, too, but you don’t hear me carrying on about it,” I said, trying to jolly him out of his sorrow. “If you don’t stop crying, you’ll use up every drop of moisture in your body, turn to dust, and blow away. Then what will I have to live for?” I linked my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek to his. “Don’t do that to me, dear Fechin. You know I’d die without you.”
    A wobbly smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Not so. Not while there are good-looking young men in this world—warriors, nobles, kings who’ll want you for their bride. You can’t break all those hearts if you die young, may the gods avert it!”
    “Oh, where’s the challenge in that?” I joked. “Men’s hearts break too easily, and then they cry, and then their mustaches get all covered with—” I made such a revolted face that Fechin had to laugh his tears away.
    One of our men came to fetch him with word of a horse that was acting strangely. When Fechin went off to look at the beast, Devnet approached me. “Time for our farewell, Princess.” He spoke as if announcing a great festival.
    “Why do you sound so happy about it?” I asked, hurt.
    He lifted my chin with a fingertip calloused from years of weaving music on the harp’s strings. “Would you rather I took up where Fechin left off and flooded the earth with my tears? No bard likes to be the shadow of another man’s song. Besides, I fear that once we’re on the road back to Cruachan, you’ll have tears enough of your own.”
    I couldn’t manage more than the most pitiful of smiles. “I wept plenty this morning. I hope I’m done.”
    “Done with weeping? In this world? That’s up to you,Princess. You’re free to choose your battles, your triumphs, and your tears.”
    “Is that how it works?” I asked, leaning my head against him. His clothing smelled like home.
    I heard him sigh. “Only in my songs.”
    Lord Artegal, his wife, his son, and the most important members of his household stood with me at Dún Beithe’s gates as my people rode away. I didn’t shed a single tear, but smiled sincerely as I waved and called out good wishes for a safe journey. The crowd with me echoed my shouts, but the clamor faded as men and women trailed off to resume their work. I held my place, outlasting even Lord Artegal. The smile never left my lips and my eyes never left the dwindling procession until they were completely