Page 52 of Fragile Oath

It wasn’t surprising, exactly, since I had seen his hesitation before he left. Storms, I had seen his every protective instinct for the past two weeks, and before that. Still, it filled me with a feeling I couldn’t name, something between gratitude and guilt.

Prince Oliver cleared his throat. “For now, you should go find Gwyn before she, too, faces accusations of murder.”

“She wants to be in the Assembly room?” he guessed.

“Indeed, she does,” the prince confirmed, “which I think we can all agree is a spectacularly terrible idea.”

I privately agreed but held my tongue. Gallagher shot me a questioning look, and I dipped my head in assent. Only then did he leave to find his twin.

“Sadly, we have even less pleasant interactions to face,” the prince told me.

My eyebrows climbed upward without my consent.

“Your uncle is waiting.” He said the words casually, though concern was etched into his dark blue eyes.

“He’s here?” I wasn’t sure why I asked when Oliver had no reason to lie, but my mind seemed to have gone blank with dread.

Dread for Davin, and whatever was transpiring in the Assembly chamber. Dread for facing my uncle after everything that had happened, the way my secrets and lies and mistakes all seemed to be catching up to me in one paralyzing blow.

The prince dipped his head once. “He just arrived, along with an escort from Chridhe.”

Was it more of Davin’s family? It would make sense that they had come to support him, which belatedly occurred to me was where Oliver would ordinarily be also, were he not stuck babysitting me.

“I’m sure a guard could escort me so you could be with Davin,” I said.

Oliver pursed his lips thoughtfully before taking a step forward.

“As much as I would like to be in that room, we decided it might be better not to show up like a battering ram when that’s already the Assembly’s primary complaint. And you might have noticed my brother is rather a battering ram all on his own…” He trailed off with a small smile that was far more forced than usual, and my stomach churned.

Both of Davin’s parents were exceptionally good at putting up appearances, much like their son. The fact that his worry was showing meant there was legitimate cause for concern. I wanted to press him on it, but I couldn’t bring myself to add to his burden.

“Still, I’m sure there are things you could be doing,” I protested.

“There’s always something to be done,” he allowed, proffering his arm for me to take. “But I thought, perhaps, you might want an ally in that room. If you would prefer your privacy instead, I will leave you at the door.”

I opened my mouth to tell him not to worry about it, that of course he could attend to whatever else needed attending. Then I thought about my uncle’s last threatening letter, about what it felt like to be coerced from the castle against my will, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask Oliver not to accompany me.

Nor could I force myself to ask for his help when there were a million other things he could be doing to help Davin.Storms, I was a mess.

Finally, after taking his arm, I settled on a short, “Thank you,” which he took with far more grace than I deserved.

Walking down the familiar hallways of Lithlinglau was bittersweet. A part of me felt like I was coming home, while a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that it would never really be my home again. It was never mine to grow attached to in the first place, let alone now.

Oliver silently led me up the marble stairs to the living quarters, turning left toward the guest suites, instead of right toward those reserved for family. We were halfway down the hall before we stopped outside an impressive set of double doors, my heartbeat thundering ominously in my chest.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to speak when my throat was suddenly so very dry. He nodded for the guards to open the doors, and I stepped in to find the duke of Clan Ram sitting imperiously in a wing-backed chair.

For a stilted moment, I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“Sir Mikhail,” Oliver greeted, gently putting pressure on my arm to pull me out of my head.

Finally, I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to meet the eyes of the man I had been taught to revere above all others, back when he had looked at me with nothing but pride. He didn’t have children of his own, so he had tutored me in Clan politics himself, treating me more like a daughter than he would a niece.

You are the pride of Clan Ram, Galina.

Then he had sold me into marriage for the sake of a war he didn’t even believe in, and I had betrayed him as thoroughly as any one Socairan could betray another – not only him, but the crux of everything he taught me.

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