Page 10 of Fragile Oath

Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear my name at first or sense the immediate danger it put the man in that recognized me.

We had just stepped outside of the inn, when a stranger in a straw riding hat approached us.

“Lady Galina?” His deep, accented voice stopped me in my tracks.

Judging by the insistence in his tone and the anger radiating off of Alexei, it had likely not been the first time the man had said my name.

When I turned slightly to look at him, he removed his straw hat and beamed at me in recognition. “Ach, I thought it was you.”

It only took me a moment to recognize that he had been in charge of the Skittles booth at the festival. He was the one who handed me my award for winning, four days and a lifetime ago.

I was suddenly more awake than I had been before, and painfully aware of everything around me all at once.

The cold morning air that bit into my skin. The low sounds of the stirring town waking up. The savory scents wafting over from the food carts on the street. The creak and groan of the wooden sign above the Red Lion Inn’s door, and the stomping of impatient horses ready to get on the road.

He was carrying two freshly-baked, still-steaming meat pies from one of the food vendors, and he was headed toward the inn we’d just come from. I carefully darted a glance around, relieved that no one else was paying us any attention, or waiting just behind him.

“Master MacDoyle,” I greeted, my voice higher than I wanted it to be.

The man in question slid his gaze from me to Alexei, who was stiffening at my side, and I waited for the betrayal to dawn on his features. Instead, fear flitted through his gaze. Not of me, I realized, butforme.

It was an unwanted reminder that somewhere along the way, these people had started to become mine, as well. And I was betraying them as surely as I was their marquess.

The man’s smile slipped. “Is everything alright, milady?”

Alexei’s guards were at the carriage, but a small contingent of soldiers wasn’t far off. It would be so easy, I realized. Easy to give the man the smallest sign that I was in trouble, let the soldiers come dispose of Alexei. I wouldn’t have to marry a monster.

I could go home…to Davin.

For a fraction of a moment, I let myself consider the possibility that Alexei was bluffing. Perhaps there was no system at all, no check-in, no one waiting to murder my parents in cold blood.

As much as I wanted that to be true, the overwhelming likelihood was that he had thought this through as meticulously as he had his battles during the war. So I lifted my chin, giving the warmest, most disarming smile I could muster.

“Of course. My guard is only accompanying me home to fetch my family before the wedding. I left a little early, because I’m hoping…” I lowered my voice, looking around conspiratorially. “I’m hoping to have time to make a detour, to convince the queen to come back with me, as a surprise for the marquess, but I have no idea if she’ll be able to get away. Please don’t mention you saw me. He’ll suspect something if he knows what excellent time I’m making when I’m such a slow traveler ordinarily.”

Something fractured inside of me, imagining the words were true, that I was merely fetching a surprise for the betrothed I loved in time to come back to marry him. Swallowing back that emotion, I widened my smile, forcing a blush to my cheeks.

The man visibly relaxed. “Aye, my lips are sealed. Though, if you’ll take some advice from an old man, that’ll make him happy, milady, but nothing so much as marrying ye. Just be sure yer back on time.”

He chuckled before taking a bite of one of the steaming hand pies, raising the other almost in a salute to me.

“I will.” The lie chafed against my lips like sandpaper. “Thank you, sir.”

With that, he winked before turning to continue inside.

Alexei eased ever so slightly at my side, leading me into the carriage. He was never particularly talkative, but his silence here felt pointed somehow. Heavy.

After securing a blanket over our laps, he knocked on the window separating us from the driver before finally turning his attention back to me. His gaze flitted over my face like he was seeing me for the first time, and what he saw was disappointing.

“You were always lying,” he finally said, his breath heavy with the scent of coffee.

There was no note of bitterness in his voice. There was a small hint of surprise, however, like he was replaying every time I had leaned into him or whispered soothing words in his ears, now seeing them in a different light. I looked away, guilt and defiance warring in my gut.

“I didn’t have a choice.” No choice but to marry him. No choice but to keep him calm.

Instead of reacting with fury, the way I expected him to, he only scoffed. “And you think that I did?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it. It had never occurred to me to wonder if he had wanted to marry me. Our uncles had arranged our betrothal on behalf of us both.

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