Page 2 of Fragile Oath

Did he know I was lying? Did it matter? There was power in forcing me to appease him. It was a game he never tired of.

Despair crashed over me in waves before I forced myself to breathe, to remember why I had come willingly rather than raise an alarm that would have killed my parents.Storms, that might have killed Davin, if Alexei’s threats about the rebels were genuine.

I was not strong in combat like Gwyn. I did not command armies like Rowan. I could play Alexei’s games, though. I could lie, for the sake of my parents. For Davin.

Even if he would never forgive me.

ChapterTwo

DAVIN

The letter felt heavierthan it should.

For what felt like the hundredth time today, I scanned Galina’s words, trying and failing not to crease the parchment as my fist clenched the paper.

I supposed it wouldn’t matter if I ruined it now—if I crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the hearth’s dying embers—not when I had already memorized each painstaking letter of every single word on the page.

This was never supposed to be more than a means to an end.

Had she written it this morning? Last night, before she came to my rooms? Did it matter?

The same questions chased each other through my mind in a never-ending loop. Such small, unimportant details, all things considered. After hours of questioning the guards, the servants, my own parents… No one had anything new to offer.

There was nothing outside of what her ring and letter had said for her.

I have an obligation I allowed myself to forget.

Even then, with her ring in my hand, and my gaze fixated on the inked words, I could still only barely bring myself to terms with the reality so stark before me.

She was gone. She had left me.

Again.

I clenched my fists once more, letting out a slow breath through my nose.

“There doesn’t appear to be any sign of a struggle.” Uncle Finn interrupted my thoughts.

His statement was equal parts reassuring and a reminder that if Galina left by choice, there was nothing we could do. Whereas there was another, more glaring issue waiting to be dealt with.

It could wait a while longer, for all I cared.

“I see that,” I replied quietly. Bitterly.

As twisted as I knew it was, I hadn’t been able to deny the small part of me that hoped I had misinterpreted the letter, like there was any other way to read her,we let things get out of hand.

It was better this way, though. Better that she hadn’t been taken. That she wasn’t in danger.

That she left by choice.

“And the letter…?” Gallagher began, his tone questioning.

“In her hand,” I said evenly, noting the familiar artful penmanship.

There were no jagged lines or blots in the ink, nothing to indicate she had even been the slightest bit upset as she was writing. Had she sat down with the same icy calm she had when writing a simple thank-you note while she decimated whatever semblance of a relationship we had?

We both know you’ll never be happy with just one woman.

Her words were like a carefully poised scalpel slicing into all the right wounds. All this time when I thought we were moving forward, had our mistakes been haunting us both – haunting each other?

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