Song of the Dark Wood by Sheila Masterson

Author:Sheila Masterson [Masterson, Sheila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-20T00:00:00+00:00

19

CONOR

Despite Conor’s coldness in the temple, he enjoyed having Rowan in the keep. As difficult as it was to ignore the constant nagging pull to her, like a fishhook lodged in his chest reeling him toward her, she brought warmth to the place.

She’d spent the whole week with him, begging off on Friday morning so that she could go spend some time with Aeoife before she returned the following night with a new group of spirits.

Conor knew he was deluding himself. Playing house with a beautiful Maiden was fun, but they were avoiding reality. Things couldn’t stay that way forever. Each time he touched her, she chipped away at the walls he’d built to protect himself. Talking to her was worse because she was clever, funny, and charming in a wholly natural way. It was lovely to see how she bloomed like some wild, exotic rose where most things came to die. She brought the mansion to life in more ways than one.

He’d felt a shift in the energy of the mansion, but it was confirmed when he was wandering by the old greenhouse and noticed that it had gone from dried-out remnants to its former blooming glory. It took him a day to put together that it was due to her sitting at the top of the east wing hall and singing. Even the luminaries—old plant spirits—had returned from beyond to enjoy the flowers.

Conor didn’t understand Rowan’s magic, but he knew it was something powerful. The house servant spirits seemed just as drawn to her as he was, sneaking away to hear her sing, each relishing the touch of life in her voice.

He should have interrogated her about her power. Several of the other Maidens had spent significant time at the keep, but none had brought with them such a frenzy.

Rowan was still shaken up from her attack in the Dark Wood, so Conor taught her how to fend off an assailant. It had been too long since he felt the adrenaline of a good fight, but the movements were still second nature to him.

Eventually, when being so close to her proved to be a problem, he taught her chess.

It seemed a platonic game. It felt safest to face Rowan with a table between them to keep her at a secure distance, especially with her looking lovely in a light blue dress his seamstress had made to compliment her fair skin and rosy cheeks. There were no innuendos in chess and no touching. There was only Rowan’s brow furrowed adorably as she desperately tried to puzzle out how to beat him. At first, she was competitive and frustrated, but quickly got better—good enough that she could carry on a conversation as they played.

“Tell me about your family,” Conor said, watching her face carefully.

“Tell me about yours,” she countered.

Conor frowned and leaned back in his chair. He tried not to ever think about his family. “What makes you think I have one?”

Her full lips tipped into a half-smile. “The fact that you didn’t immediately reject the idea.

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