Page 125 of Fang & Fury

Meanwhile, Darach had reached the foot of the platform.

The crowd had drawn back to give him space.

Ailsa found herself tensing. The High Queen had been wary of him before the battle—was she still?

Darach lowered himself gingerly onto one knee and bowed his head.

“You finally had your reckoning,” Lara said after a lengthy pause. “Was it worth it?”

No one spoke.

All gazes were on Darach now, awaiting his response.

Raising his chin, he met Lara’s gaze. “I hope you didn’t have plans for Niall?”

Lara stared down at him before her lips lifted at the corners. “None he would have enjoyed.”

Muffled laughter filtered through the crowd at this.

“I’d intended to let Alar arrest him,” Darach admitted then, his tone sobering. “But he was determined to fight me.” He paused. “And we both knew that if we ever faced off, it would be a duel to the death.”

Lara inclined her head at this, inviting him to continue.

“I’ll speak plainly,” he said, his voice roughening. “I’m ambitious. It always chafed me that I was the second-born. I knew I’d make a better king than Niall. He knew it too.”

The queen folded her arms across her chest and looked down her nose at him. “You have a high opinion of yourself, mac Lachlan.”

Ailsa’s breath caught as she watched Lara’s face. Maybe she hadn’t developed any trust in him, after all.

Darach’s spine straightened, his chin lifting. “I do … but I also swear this, My Queen … right from the beginning, I have been loyal to you … loyal to Duncrag.” He paused there and dragged in a deep breath. “If you let me, I shall be your overking. I’ll rule in your name before my own … and I’ll serve you to the end of my days.”

Silence fell once more, swelling as everyone waited for the queen’s answer.

“Then I shall take you at your word.” Picking up her skirts, Lara descended from the platform and moved over to where Cailean stood. His fae hound sat faithfully next to him; Skall’s golden eyes fixed upon Darach. “May I borrow one of your blades, Cailean?”

Nodding, the chief-enforcer unsheathed his broadsword and handed it to her.

Lara moved over in front of Darach and stopped before him. She then lifted the heavy blade with both hands and touched it gently upon one shoulder and then the other.

“I hereby give you rule of Braewall, Darach mac Lachlan,” she said gravely. “I bestow upon you the title of ‘overking’. May we fight for the same purpose. May we strive for peace and prosperity … shoulder to shoulder.” She met his eye. “Do you swear allegiance to me?”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Darach bowed his head. “Aye, my queen. I would give my life for you.”

Lara stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Rise then, King of Braewall. You’re done kneeling before me.”

Darach obeyed, unfolding himself to his full height, which meant that he towered over the queen. An instant later, Lara reached out a hand, and they clasped arms like warriors.

Murmurs rippled through the watching crowd.

Moments later, cheering lifted high into the air as Lara released his hand and stepped back.

Darach turned then, his gaze cutting through the crowd and settling upon Ailsa.

They stared at each other. And then he winked.

Ailsa snorted a laugh. The man was incorrigible. Her shoulders lowered, her muscles uncoiling as she let go of a tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been clinging to. Ever since their night together in Duncrag, they hadn’t spoken of the future again. He’d told her that he’d wait, and she’d believed him.

The steadiness in those warm, honey-brown eyes told her his word was still good.