Page 103 of Fragile Oath

Galina let out a small laugh, and it was worth all of the ribbing I knew was still coming. Gallagher tilted his head to her room, and she followed after one last lingering look in my direction.

Gwyn busied herself with removing all of my things from the table near the corner window, replacing it with Galina’s few remaining plants.

“Why does anyone need three navy waistcoats?” Avani demanded from inside the closet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I shot back. “Only one of them is navy. The others are clearly midnight and cobalt.”

“At least you’re making this easy,” she muttered, tossing said cobalt jacket onto the floor of my room.

“Just make sure you keep one in every color,” I ordered, pouring several glasses of whiskey.

Gwyn poked her head into the closet to survey Avani’s progress now that she was finished with her own task.

“Absolutely not,” Gwyn told me. “You might be pretty, Dav, but even you can’t wear whatever the hell this is.”

She threw an admittedly hideous orange waistcoat into the growing pile just as Galina returned with Gal, who was laden down with an enormous pile of dresses. Two of the soldiers followed in a similar manner, looking distinctly uncomfortable with this assignment.

“In here,” Gwyn directed them.

Several more trips went by that way until all of Galina’s things were in my closet, my lavatory, my drawers. She stood in the center of the room, casting an uncertain look at her surroundings. I put my arms around her from behind, and she leaned into me.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, we can move it all into one of the guest rooms tomorrow,” I murmured into her ear.

She slid her hands over mine, entwining our fingers.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” she said just as softly. “I’m just wondering how you feel about the changes to your space.”

I looked around at the way her things were seamlessly integrated with mine, a small piece of our lives melding together. It felt like a living reminder that she was here to stay.

“Like I wish they’d happened months ago,” I told her truthfully.

She relaxed somewhat in my arms, and I placed a quick kiss against her temple. Somehow, despite the chaos wreaking havoc on my home, the bloodstains on my floors, and the constant threat of exile and death looming over us, we had found a way to carve a space for ourselves here.

It was something my family had been doing for as long as I could remember with our late nights playing cards and drinking games, but it felt different with Galina here, even more special.

The sound of my cousins arguing grabbed my attention. Gal and Gwyn were bickering with Avani about the placement of furniture and how many times they had been forced to move the vanity already.

“But it looks stupid here,” Avani said, looking to Galina for support.

When she didn’t respond right away, Avani took it as silent support and snapped her fingers for me to come assist.

And so began the lengthy process of moving all of my furniture around. By which I meant that Gallagher and I moved the furniture while Gwyn graded us on our lifting stance and Avani directed with the help of her tiny fat squirrel.

Malishka, per usual, was fascinated by the rodent, circling Avani as she stared up at the creature. She let out several sounds that were somewhere between a bark and a snort. The squirrel squeaked indignantly in response while Avani did her best to keep the two separate.

“We could have called for the soldiers again,” I grunted, pushing the bed into place.

“Then I would have missed out on the view,” Galina said. She hadn’t said much throughout this process, but a small smile graced her lips now.

“Gross,” Gwyn said.

“Seconded,” Gal chimed in.

There was a small squeak from Avani’s shoulder before she nodded. “Thirded and fourthed.” Then she turned to Galina. “Are you sure there isn’t anything specific you want? Do you have a preference how we arrange the sofa and chairs?”

Galina shook her head until I looked pointedly at her.

“Honestly?” I pushed.

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