Ember let her eyes slip over the half circle of knights facing her. One of these warriors would be at her side day after day, teaching her to fight. She shivered, wishing that Kael MacRath weren’t already Alistair’s mentor. Though she’d only just met him, his cheerful demeanor was much less frightening than the hardened faces staring at her now. Glancing to her right, Ember met the gaze of a woman whose piercing blue eyes seemed at war with her mouth, one side of which was pulling up as if in amusement. Unlike the wild, loose tresses of Eira and Cian, this woman’s muddy-brown hair was pulled up in a severe knot. As the sole woman Ember had spotted among the Guard besides the sisters, she could only assume this must be Sorcha—who according to Alistair was as ferocious as any man on the battlefield. As Ember held her gaze, Sorcha’s half smile broke into a full grin, which Ember found herself responding to with an uncertain smile. Sorcha’s open expression was confident, if a bit mischievous.
It must be her, Ember thought with relief. For her mentor to be the only woman of the Guard was reassuring. As much as she’d hoped with all her being to be a part of it, this was a man’s world and Ember knew she’d need wisdom and experience like Sorcha’s if she were to succeed. Ember began to breathe a little easier. Though Sorcha’s expression was crafty as a wildcat’s, Ember thought wiliness and courage must have made her the warrior Alistair claimed she was.
Sorcha winked at her, and Ember almost giggled but managed to keep still. The warrior woman had taken a step forward when shouts filled the room, turning all attention to the doorway.
Lukasz frowned, shaking his head. His height allowed him to see past the ring of Guards to whoever had entered the room. “You shouldn’t be here, Lord Morrow. We’re in the midst of our own ceremony. Only members of the Guard may be present.”
“And that’s why I’m here! I found your priest and he claimed my daughter passed some sort of trial. This madness must end.” Ember’s stomach twisted when her father pushed his way into the circle, glaring at her. “I only beg for reason. Surely there has been an error.”
His eyes were bright with outrage. “Ember, your mother and sister beg you to reconsider. As do I.”
“For what reason?” she asked, her temper flaring. Not only was her father still denying what she’d always wanted, but she was also humiliated that he would confront her about it with the entire Guard assembled to witness his outburst.
“For every reason!” He lunged forward, gripping her arms. “You would throw your life away to drink blood with the rest of these brutes?”
“Is that what you think we do here?” Kael asked, grinning. “How flattering.”
He’d stepped from the ring of knights and came to stand beside Ember. Alistair mimicked his mentor’s actions, taking up a post at Kael’s shoulder. Ember started when Barrow materialized at her back, glowering at her father.
Her father paled, glancing around at the rest of the Guard. “Forgive me. Of course I give you nothing but honor for your sacrifice, but this is my daughter. She’s just a child and doesn’t understand the cost.”
“Is this true?” Barrow’s question was directed not at her father, but to Ember.
“No.” Ember pulled out of her father’s grasp, holding the gray-eyed knight’s stern gaze. “This is my choice. I belong with the Guard.”
Barrow’s mouth twitched like he was about to smile, but her father’s mirthless laugh shattered the moment.
“You are a woman, not a warrior,” Edmund said, glaring at Ember. “You should honor your family with a marriage suiting your rank and children to carry on your legacy, not the mischief and bloodshed that you’ll find here.”
From behind him, Sorcha snorted.
“Agnes will give you grandchildren, Father,” Ember said. “Leave me be.” She almost added “please” but worried it would make her sound weak. If she could have begged him to leave, she would have, but members of the Guard didn’t beg . . . at least she didn’t think they did.
Ignoring her, Ember’s father whirled, thrusting his fist at Sorcha. “How did you bewitch my daughter? Only you could have requested her to serve you.”
Sorcha’s hand went to her sword hilt. “That’s quite an accusation, my lord. I would be more careful of your tongue. I would remind you that two of the Guard, both women, now belong to the Circle. You are indebted to Conatus. This is the price required.”
Edmund’s eyes bulged. His face was a bright shade of red slowly ebbing into violet. Ember wanted to shout her fury at him, but she was loath to act like a temperamental child before her new companions.
“Peace, Lord Morrow.” Barrow stepped in front of her father, breaking his line of sight to Sorcha. “It was not Sorcha who chose Ember.”
“Then who?” her father said, his clenched fists trembling. “Who dares claim my daughter as a squire?”
“I do,” Barrow said.
Ember gaped at him while Sorcha clapped her hand over her mouth. Ember couldn’t tell if it was from shock or if she was laughing and trying to hide it.
The mottled hues painting Edmund’s face drained away, leaving his skin sallow. “But why? Why would you choose a girl to serve you?”
“That is a matter for the Guard and the Guard alone,” Barrow said.
Edmund choked and spluttered, staring at Barrow in disbelief.
“You have your answer, my lord,” Barrow said. “Leave us now or you will be taken from these quarters by force.”
Glaring at Barrow for a moment longer, Edmund finally bowed his head. To question Barrow’s statement would be to challenge his honor—a foolish act for any man. Edmund turned away, passing Ember as he moved to the door.
“Foolish girl,” he hissed under his breath. “I swear you’ve not heard the end of this.”
When he left the room, Kael closed the chamber doors, barring them with a stout length of wood.
“I’d say that’s enough interruptions for today.” He grinned at her.
Ember’s stomach churned with a mixture of embarrassment, relief, and lingering fear. Her father was a proud and powerful man. If he believed he could still bring her back from the Guard, he would keep after it like hounds after a fox.
Sorcha laughed, slapping Barrow on the shoulder.