It didn’t look that way now. The castle itself was bright white with silver accents all around the moldings. The grounds of the courtyard were clean, with flowers and trees planted all around the outer edge.

Annwyl pulled her steed to a halt inside the courtyard. Frowning, she looked around. Talaith couldn’t tell if she found something to cause her displeasure or if she searched for something.

Shaking her head and sighing, Annwyl dismounted. “Talaith, I sent my squire ahead yesterday and had rooms made ready for you, Izzy and her Protectors.”

Surprised, Talaith and the men glanced at each other. Achaius, as always, spoke for all three men. “Quee—” At Morfyd’s quick head shake, he corrected himself, “M’lady, stables will work well enough for the likes of us.”

Annwyl snorted. It seemed to be her version of a laugh. “That’s unacceptable, gentlemen. You’ll all have your own rooms and fresh clothes.” She turned and faced Achaius and the others. “You’ve done your duty, men. And you’ve done it well. You deserve peace and quiet now.”

She pulled her saddlebags off her horse. “Besides, I need loyal men like you by my side, if you’re interested.” Stuttering, Achaius tried to answer but Annwyl cut him off by holding her hand up. “You don’t have to answer me now. I don’t know what you men left behind. But if you’d like to stay, there will be a place for you here. If not, you will not leave empty handed.”

Too stunned to say anything further, the Protectors dismounted their horses and began to unpack them.

Annwyl looked at Talaith. “And as for you two—”

“Annwyl, I—”

“I’m sorry. Was I done speaking?”

Talaith sighed in mock exasperation while Morfyd chuckled.

“No, my liege. Please. Go on.”

Not bothering to hold back her smile, Annwyl continued. “I want you both to stay here, under my protection, until you know what you want to do.”

“I was thinking,” Izzy volunteered, “that maybe I could—”

Annwyl placed her hand over Izzy’s mouth and kept right on talking to Talaith. “There’s no rush, Talaith. Take as much time as you need.”

“Thank you, Annwyl. I really do appreciate that.” She did, too, because she really had no idea what she would do. She and Izzy had their whole lives ahead of them. For once, Talaith felt hope rather than despair. It was a new and heady feeling Talaith was simply unused to.

“Now, Iseabail the Dangerous,” Annwyl took her hand away from Izzy’s mouth, “you were saying?”

But Izzy was no longer looking at Annwyl and for once she had nothing to say.

“Izzy?”

The loud sound of a big hand making contact with Annwyl’s chainmail-covered ass startled both women away from Izzy’s captivated face.

“And where the hell have you been?”

Annwyl turned, her gaze moving up and up and up some more into the handsome face of an absolute bear of a man. “Where have I been?” she snapped back. And Talaith wondered if Annwyl had lost all reason, challenging this man. Then she remembered Annwyl had lost her reason long ago. “I’ve been securing our lands. That’s where I’ve been.”

One very dark eyebrow raised over even darker eyes, a smirk on the handsome man’s face. “You were supposed to be back weeks ago.”

“Sorry if the war isn’t running to your timetable, lord.”

“I see,” he said, a lock of coal-black hair slipping from under the hood of his cape and across his eyes. “Someone’s begging for me to—”

“All right then,” Morfyd cut in, taking firm hold of Izzy’s shoulders and pushing her in the direction of the Protectors. The girl went, but her eyes stayed glued on what Talaith could only assume was Annwyl’s husband.

Looking back at the huge man, Morfyd shook her head. “Hello, Fearghus.”

Without turning away from Annwyl’s face, the man motioned at the witch. “Morfyd.”

Morfyd crooked a finger at Talaith. “Come, sister. Let’s get you settled. I fear you and I are much too young for such a display.”

The couple hadn’t moved any closer to each other, but they didn’t need to be any closer. The way they stared at each other was enough to make anyone feel like intruders.

“No need. We’re leaving.”

Annwyl grinned at Fearghus’ words. “Oh? Are we?”

“Aye.” He took firm hold of Annwyl’s hand. “To Dark Glen with you, wench.”

Morfyd turned. “Fearghus, wait. There is much to discuss.”

“Later, sister.”

“Much later,” Annwyl added with a very girlish giggle, Fearghus dragging her behind him.

Morfyd sighed in exasperation and walked toward the castle steps, leading Achaius, Izzy and the other men into the building and to their rooms.

But Talaith didn’t follow; too busy staring at the retreating form of Annwyl’s husband. Fearghus. The way he moved seemed familiar. Extremely familiar. She watched him until the couple disappeared around the corner of the castle.

“No. No,” she muttered to herself. If she kept this up, she’d see Briec everywhere. In every man she met until the end of her days. She couldn’t live like that.

No. Fearghus was merely a very large man. Perhaps a tad unnaturally large but a mother could achieve that with the proper spells and sacrifices. Besides, that behemoth was what someone like Annwyl needed.