“Even when you compliment me it’s tinged with smugness,” Effie griped, certain his words didn’t mean he actually believed what he was saying. It was all an attempt to pacify her and manipulate her into doing what he wanted. Chuckling, she shook her head. “We’ve come a long way from my hurling daggers at you in the forest.”
“Indeed we have.”
“I don’t know how much help I’m going to be. I pretty much told you everything I remember.”
“Close your eyes. Start at the beginning.”
With one last centering breath, Effie did as she was told and descended back into the madness.
Chapter 21
Effie flipped through the pages of her journal, reading and re-reading the same handful of passages until she could probably recite them verbatim, including punctuation. She didn’t know what she was looking for—well, she did; she wanted answers. There was nothing new to be found within those cream-colored pages.
“Never did see the point of reading for pleasure,” Ronan said, startling her.
Effie blinked up at him as the lines of text from her journal momentarily superimposed themselves over his handsome face. Mother, how long have I been here?
“Perhaps that’s because you’ve never read anything worth reading. Although, I would hardly say this is a pleasure read.”
Ronan grinned. “I’ll admit, after learning my letters, I had little interest in anything that kept me indoors. Unless it was going to get me beneath sweet Hannah’s skirts.” Ronan let out a soft sigh. “Alas, it was never meant to be. I never did learn the answer to that particular riddle.”
Effie snorted and tossed a pillow at him. “Brute.”
Ronan shrugged, easily catching the pillow and dropping it onto the empty chair beside him. “I was a teenage boy. You can’t honestly expect more of me than that.”
“Yes, I can. I didn’t know you when you were a teenager, so my expectations are colored by the man I see before me.”
He leaned against the table, making her cup of tea rattle in its delicate saucer. “It’s called growing up for a reason, darlin’.”
She may have no interest in Ronan, but the term of endearment combined with his roguish half-grin still had the power to make her blush.
Clearing her throat, she nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
Effie was more than familiar with the adage herself. She’d done her fair share of growing up in these past few months, certainly enough to know that growing pains were emotional more often than not.
Lifting a hand, she made to brush away a curl that had fallen free of the braid she’d made along the crown of her head.
“What happened?” Ronan snarled, shifting from playful friend back to attentive warrior instantly.
Effie froze, her hand still half-raised. Eyes wide, she stared up at his thunderous expression. “What do you mean?”
He was close enough that he barely had to move to reach out and gently grasp her wrist in his hand, turning it up until a smattering of purple bruises were clearly visible.
“Who did this?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Effie knew better than to lie to him, but she also knew if she gave him a name, Ronan would tear out of here intent on repaying each mark on her body seven-fold.
“I dealt with it myself,” she answered with just enough bite in her voice that Ronan’s eyebrows lifted.
“Is that so?”
She gave him a dark smile. “He’s lucky I didn’t have my blades.”
Ronan gave an approving grunt. “See that he does not have a chance to repeat the mistake.”
“He won’t.” Effie meant it. She would not hesitate to take Kieran down if he tried to touch her again. Thankfully, Kieran had made himself scarce the last few days, so she hadn’t had to deal with him, one way or the other.
Ronan studied her carefully, his thumb brushing over the worst of the bruises. “That he lives at all is a kindness he doesn’t deserve.”
“It’s a few bruises, Ronan. Not nearly serious enough to concern yourself with.”
“I’ll be the one to make that decision.”
Effie rolled her eyes and bit back a smile. She may not need him to defend her honor, but it meant a lot to her that he was willing to do so. Especially after a childhood where the only person who would have done the same was rarely around.
“Does Lucian know about this?” Ronan asked, his head tilting as he released his hold on her.
Effie shook her head, pulling her sleeve back down over the bruises. They hadn’t appeared until the morning after her run-in with Kieran, and Effie had barely spent more than a handful of minutes with her Guardian since their outing a few days ago. She knew Ronan’s reaction would be mild in comparison to Lucian’s if he found out.
“Do I know about what?” Lucian asked, choosing that moment to walk into the room.
Effie scowled up at Ronan before looking back at Lucian. “Nothing.”
His lips tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.” Shifting his intense gaze from her face to Ronan’s, he asked, “What isn’t she telling me?”
Effie kicked Ronan in the shin, which only made the red-headed warrior laugh. “Oh, now I’m definitely telling him.”
“Don’t you dare!” she said, jumping out of her chair. A moment of inspiration made her blurt out, “You’ll ruin the surprise.”
Lucian gave her a look filled with suspicion. “What surprise?”
Beside her Ronan’s shoulders shook with laughter. He knew she’d just talked herself into a corner and was happily going to stand by and watch her struggle to get out.
“I can’t very well tell you, now can I? That’s the very nature of a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises,” Lucian growled. “Tell me what you’re up to, fledgling.”
Effie scrambled to come up with a plausible answer, her wide grin genuine as she recalled the carefully wrapped deck of cards that had been in her room. “I wanted to thank you for the gift you left for me.”
Her Guardian’s expression cleared slightly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want them after what happened.”
“Of course, I do. They’re the most beautiful thing I own,” she added, her eyes drifting to the journal still open on the table. “Well, one of . . .” A warm heat blossomed in her chest as she realized her two most prized possessions had both been gifted to her by Lucian.
She looked back over to him, confused by the almost shy expression on his face. Shy and Lucian were not two things that went together. Before she could ask about it, his expression shifted, returning to its usual impassive mask.
“Don’t worry about surprising me with anything. Your thanks are gift enough.”
Effie lifted a brow. Now that the idea had taken root, there was no way she was going to let his generosity go unreturned. How she was going to do so was a problem for another day.
Wanting to keep the focus away from her and her bruises, she said, “We’ll have to break the deck in together sometime. Are you familiar with the game?”
Lucian’s eyes heated, and he gave her a slow grin. “Are we going to be playing for the same stakes you used in the tavern?”