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their laws, everyone had a right to speak in their own defence, the goal being to understand events rather than spin evidence against the accused. Devyn was honest and respectful. He told them of his life in the Imperial Province. Marcus remained rigid as Devyn described his skills with technology, his friendship with Linus and other dissidents, and their efforts to help latents. He made it clear to everyone that he was quite willing to accept whatever the court decided, and that this was an eventuality he had foreseen from the moment he had decided to leave the Lakes.

Since I was denied access to Devyn, Bronwyn kept me occupied by teaching me how to ride properly; otherwise I kept to my room as much as possible, though I was regularly joined by Marina, who bubbled over with enthusiasm for her new life. She was full of talk of the ley line she tended at Glastonbury and the druids’ delight in the strength of her ability. Oban also took to sewing in my rooms when Marina was off being treated by Marcus.

After Devyn was done with, others were called upon to fill in the events of our journey north, most particularly from the point when Devyn had become ill. Bronwyn answered clearly and placed emphasis on Devyn’s incapacity during the critical decision-making part. Gideon was called on to recount the events on our side after splitting from the main group. His responses to the High Druid, even for Gideon, were spectacularly insolent.

Oban lured me to his room the next day for a final fitting of my soon-to-be replenished wardrobe, having procured cloth from Rhys, with whom he had quickly become friendly. Returning to my rooms, I almost collided with Gideon as he burst around the corner. His hands shot out to catch me. He steadied me and seemed about to hurry on when a dark gleam suddenly lit his amber eyes.

Gideon stiffened and leaned his body further into mine, his hand on my lower back holding me to him when I tried to pull away.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “If you want me to keep your secret then grant me this one thing.”

What one thing? What was he doing? Gideon could have any woman in the castle; I had seen them throwing themselves at him.

“What thing?” I asked somewhat breathlessly. I was confused and annoyed but there was a reason every woman between ten and a hundred threw themselves at him. He was gorgeous and slightly dangerous… and his large body curving intimately about mine was making me think of things I had no business thinking about.

“Gideon.” A woman’s voice came from somewhere behind him.

He had known she was following him – that had to be it. This was what he had wanted from me, a cover to put off some woman he had grown tired of. I was surprised he was going to such lengths; I’d never seen him have any trouble before telling anyone they were no longer welcome in his company. It appeared to be his default setting.

“Gideon,” the voice came again, an insistence that suggested she was not leaving without speaking to him.

“I’m a little busy right now,” he said, stepping fractionally closer to me so that his body was pressed against mine as he held me against the wall. One leg was nudging between mine in a way that was all too suggestive and way out of line. I stiffened and began to push him off.

His body was hard and strong and his breath was warm against my ear as he breathed a word of warning into it. “Do we have a deal?”

I scowled at him but let my body melt. Whatever game he was playing was not about me but about the woman behind us; the more I went along with it, the sooner it would be over.

I lifted my arms and embraced him, moaning as he placed his lips against my neck in response to a kiss he wasn’t giving me. His hands roamed through my hair and cupped my head. I gritted my teeth against the invasion. He was barely touching me and only in the least intimate of places but his hands were talented. Given the practice he had, by all accounts, notched up, they should be. I couldn’t take much more of this.

A featherlight touch ran up my face, the tender investigation of a lover’s features. I bit my lip as I felt my breath hitch. I could feel his breath expand in his chest.

“Gideon,” the voice came a third time.

His dark head lifted and he turned his head to eye the woman rounding the corner.

“What do you want?” he growled, conveying his displeasure at the interruption. I winced for the poor discarded fool who continued to chase him.

“I would like to speak with you.” The voice was cool and calm, if somewhat annoyed. “You make it difficult.”

“Well, as I said, I’m a little busy at present,” he said, turning to face her and bringing me around as he did so. One hand was on my shoulder, the other laid possessively just above my chest – not inappropriate enough for me to protest, but enough that anyone looking at us would be in no doubt of our intimacy.

Fidelma’s face was genuinely surprised as she took me in.

“Cassandra?”

The High Druid was who he was avoiding? My face burned. What must she think of me? Despite our brief previous acquaintance, we hadn’t really spoken since her arrival. I had hoped it was because she didn’t want to be seen to favour Devyn, though I was aware she was also working with Ewan and Marcus in the healing chamber. I couldn’t meet her eyes now. What could she want with Gideon? Surely not… She was ancient.

“What are you doing?” she asked. I looked up to see which of us she was addressing as I squirmed inwardly, but her gaze was directed over my head.

“What does it look like?” came the insouciant

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