“People died in that fire,” I said, outraged. His response had been so casual; so careless. He had spoken of Aidan’s death in just the same way. “It was completely unnecessary, even in your scheme of things. Cathal was already gone by then—” I made myself stop. I was supposed to be placating the Lord of the Oak, not challenging his actions. “My lord,” I said, “I’ve come here for exactly the reason I told you before. I love your son. I want him back. Will you please consider my feelings and Cathal’s and let us be together? He never wanted this life. All he wants is to return to Inis Eala and be a warrior. And to have a family of his own.”

“I am his family.” The statement was final, absolute.

“You love your son. I understand that. I saw how my own father felt when Finbar was born: as if the whole world had changed. It is a powerful bond. But a son cannot love his father if that father denies him the future he wants, my lord. What if Cathal never comes around to your way of thinking?” This was risky; I based it on what I had seen in Mac Dara’s face earlier, something akin to despair. “What if he just isn’t suited to being a prince of the Tuatha De?”

Mac Dara looked me straight in the eye. “You’re wasting my time,” he said.

“Are you afraid to answer my questions?” Inwardly, I was quaking with fear.

“They are irrelevant. My son is here. He set foot inside my hall. That ensures he must spend the rest of his life in my realm. There is no charm strong enough to break that one. There is no enemy with the power to stand against me. Most certainly not you, young woman, courageous as you are. Perhaps foolhardy would be a more accurate term. Take my advice. Go home, find yourself a suitor Lord Sean approves of and live the rest of your life.”

A deep breath. “That’s just it,” I said. “I love Cathal and only Cathal. He is the man I want to spend my life with. He is the man I want to father my children. I will have no other. Do not dismiss this as a girl’s folly, my lord. I don’t want a suitor of my father’s choice. I want your son.”

I had seen it in his eye as I spoke, a spark, a gleam of interest. He was quick. He had picked up the message I wanted him to hear.

“What if he doesn’t want you?” he asked.

“Whatever you’ve done to him,” I said, blinking back tears, “it can be undone. I believe that. I can see you’re unhappy. Disappointed. Perhaps that’s because your son has been more resistant than you expected.”