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“Good to know. Now, where should we start the shopping?”
It didn’t take her long to find the tools she wanted, many of which raised Kormac’s brow, but he didn’t question. Good, because the idea she had remained only partially formed. Watching Lomar’s threads last night, seeing how they weaved together, had given her an idea based on a ritual she’d read about in one of the older preserved books.
“I’ve got everything I need. I hope,” she added with a wry grin. “We can hit Lady Frieda’s house on the way back.”
“Actually, she’s further out. We’ll need our horses as she lives on a ranch on the outskirts of the city.”
They rode, with him once more giving her a boost to get in the saddle.
Outside the city, the wide-open road had him sending his stallion into a gallop, and she followed. The wind streamed through her hair and the sun on her face warmed. She laughed as her horse overtook the warlord, only to gasp as he raced past with ease. By the time they pulled up to a large, sprawling home, she was flushed and smiling. A smile accompanied by flutters as he helped her off the mount. When her feet hit the ground, he didn’t immediately release her, staring into her face as if puzzled.
Her pulse raced. Her heart thumped harder. While inexperienced, she knew what a man about to kiss looked like.
Only he didn’t because someone shouted, “Can I help you?”
Fionna pulled away from the warlord to face the old woman standing outside the door to the house. While her features might have been creased with age and her hair snowy white, the old lady held herself straight.
Kormac strode in her direction. “Morning, Lady Frieda. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken. I am?—”
“I know who you are, Warlord. But it is your companion that interests me. She is the spitting image of someone I used to know.” The old lady strode closer, her head cocked as she stared at Fionna. “Who are you, girl?”
“Fionna.” Then because she didn’t like to hide, “I am an envoy from Acca.”
“So that’s where she went,” murmured the woman.
“Where who went?” Kormac asked.
“My daughter. I’d always wondered what happened after she left. It would seem she had a child.” Lady Frieda smiled at Fionna. “Welcome, granddaughter.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
At hearing Lady Frieda’s greeting, Kormac moved to support Fionna. He’d known his mother to faint with less shocking news.
Only Fionna didn’t need his aid. Her face set in a curious expression, she took a step forward and studied the old lady before saying, “What makes you think we’re related?”
“Because you look just like Kiera.”
“Is that your mother’s name?” Kormac asked.
“Yes.” Yet Fionna still appeared suspicious. “My mother told me my family was dead.”
“Dead?” Lady Frieda recoiled with indignation. “I can’t believe she would say that. While we didn’t separate on the best of terms, I’d always hoped she’d return or send word. How is she?”
“She died when I was young.”
Lady Frieda face fell. “Oh. What happened?”
“A mercenary.” Fionna swallowed before adding, “He killed her for protecting me.”
“My brave, strong girl,” the woman murmured. “Although, I’m not surprised she had to act. Your father might have been pretty, but he wasn’t much with a sword.”
“My father died the year before that. We were alone when the soldier attacked us.” Fionna’s chin lifted. “I killed him, but not in time to save my mother.”
Kormac’s turn for a jolt. She’d been but a child when she’d had to defend her life.
“Good girl,” Lady Frieda stated. “I’m glad to know her murderer doesn’t walk free and even more glad that fate brought you to me.”
“I had no idea I had family, and only recently discovered my Sraythian roots,” Fionna admitted.
