“And you’ve had no time to grieve, not really.”

“I haven’t, no. Still, I know she would want me to do as I have, for Geall, for all, and not close myself off somewhere to mourn for her. And I had fear as well. What manner of queen would I be, and at such a time.”

With some satisfaction, Moira looked down at her rough pants and boots. “Well, I know what manner of queen I’ll try to be. Strong, even fierce. There’s no time to sit on a throne and debate matters. Politics and protocol, they’ll have to wait, won’t they? We’ve had our ceremony and our celebration, and they were needed. But now it’s time for the dirt and the sweat of it.”

She got to her feet when the food was brought in. She spoke to the young boy—still sleepy around the edges—and the serving girl who was with him.

Spoke easily, Glenna noted. Called them both by name as the food and dishes were laid out. And while they both looked puzzled by their queen’s choice of dress, Moira ignored it, dismissing them with thanks—and orders she and her guest not be disturbed.

When they sat together, Glenna noticed that Moira, who’d picked at her food for days, ate with an appetite to rival Larkin’s.

“It’ll be muddy and miserable for training today,” Moira began, “and that’s good, I’m thinking. Good discipline. I wanted to say that while I’ll be participating, and likely every day now, you and Blair are still in charge of the thing. I want everyone to see that I’m training, just like the rest. That I’ll get dirty and bruised.”

“Sounds like you’re looking forward to it.”

“By the gods, I am.” Moira scooped up eggs she’d coached the cooks to prepare as Glenna often had. Scrambled up with chunks of ham and onion right in them. “Do you remember when Larkin and I first came through the Dance to Ireland? I could plant an arrow anywhere I liked, nine of ten, but any one of you could plant me on my arse without half trying.”

“You always got up.”

“Aye, I always got up. But I’m not so easy to plant these days. That’s something I want everyone to see as well.”

“You showed them a warrior when you fought and killed the vampire.”

“I did. Now I’ll show them a soldier who takes her lumps. And there’s more I want of you.”

“I thought there was.” Glenna poured them both more tea. “Spill it.”

“I’ve never explored the magic I have. It isn’t much of a thing, as you’ve seen yourself. A bit of a healing gift, and a kind of power that can be opened and reached by others with more. As you and Hoyt have done. Dreams. I’ve studied dreams, read books on their meanings. And books on magic itself, of course. But it seemed to me there was no real purpose for what I had other than to offer some ease to someone in pain. Or a way of knowing which direction to take to find a buck when hunting. Little things. Small matters.”

“And now?”

“And now,” Moira said with a nod. “I think there’s a purpose, and there’s a need. I think I need all I have, all I am. The more I know what’s in me, the better I use it. When I touched the sword, when I put my hand on its hilt, it poured into me. The knowing that it was mine, had always been mine. And a power with it, like a strong wind, just blowing into me. More through me, I think. Do you know?”

“Exactly.”

Nodding again, Moira continued to eat. “I’ve neglected this because it wasn’t a particular interest. I wanted to read and to study, to hunt with Larkin, to ride.”

“To do the things a young woman enjoys,” Glenna interrupted. “Why shouldn’t you have done what you liked to do? You didn’t know what was coming.”

“I didn’t, no. I wonder, if I’d looked deeper, if I might have.”

“You couldn’t have saved your mother, Moira,” Glenna said gently.

Moira looked up, her eyes very clear. “You see my thoughts so easily.”

“I think because in your place, I’d have the same ones. You couldn’t have saved her. More—”

“Weren’t meant to,” Moira finished. “I’m coming around to that, inside my heart. But if I’d explored what I have, I might have seen something of what was coming. For whatever difference it would have made. Like Blair, I’ve seen the battleground in dreams. But unlike her, I didn’t face it. I turned away. That’s done, too. I’m not... wait.” She searched for the phrase. “Beating myself up? Right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I’m not beating myself up over it. I’m after changing it. So I’m asking, if you can make the time to help me hone whatever I might have, the way I’ve honed my fighting skills.”

“I can. I’d love to.”

“I’m grateful.”

“Don’t be grateful yet. It’ll be work. Magic’s an art, and a craft. And a gift. But comparing it to your physical training isn’t far off. It’s also, well, like a muscle.” Glenna tapped a hand on her biceps. “You have to exercise it, and build it. Like medicine it’s said we practice magic, so it’s never done.”

“Every weapon I take into battle is another strike against the enemy.” Brows lifted, Moira flexed her arm. “So I’ll build that muscle as I have this one, strong as I can. I want to crush her, Glenna. More than defeat her, to crush her. For so many reasons. My parents, King. Cian,” she added after a pause. “He’d dislike that, wouldn’t he, knowing I think of him as a victim?”

“He doesn’t see himself that way.”

“He doesn’t, refuses to. It’s why he thrives, in his way. He’s made his... I can’t say peace as he’s not a peaceful sort, is he? But he’s accepted his lot. I suppose, in some sort of way, he’s embraced it.”

“I’d say you have his number, as much as any could.”

Moira hesitated now, making a business of rearranging the food left on her plate. “He kissed me again.”

“Oh. Oh.” And after a pause. “Oh.”

“I made him.”

“Not to belittle your charm or powers, I don’t think anyone can make Cian do much of anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“Could be he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to until I pushed him into it. I’d had a bit to drink.”