Page 73 of Fragile Oath

She paused her assessment of me to look at the giant ring on my finger. I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or something else that forced her eyes to narrow.

Every other eye in the room also turned to us, conversation coming to a near halt. I could hardly blame them. Here I was, the recently kidnapped Socairan, with a hideous, sparkling ring the size of a chandelier, a wolf-dog at my side, and a fiancé accused of murder.

There were a few who were kind, like Lady Andra. I had spoken with her only briefly the night before, but it was enough to convince me that she was a rare welcome addition to the court. She smiled at me from behind a purple fan, her blue eyes widening with curiosity at the sight of the dog.

Then there was Lady Fenella, who was judgmental under her feathered headpiece, but not outrightly gleeful. Beyond them, most of the ladies wore expressions closer to Fiona’s. I could see in their faces the same thing I had sensed at dinner last night. Whether Davin was guilty or not, they wanted him to pay for this.

They wanted Lithlinglau to fall.

ChapterThirty-Two

DAVIN

The smoking parlorwas full today, which was unsurprising since Lithlinglau itself was nearing capacity. Plumes of sweet-smelling cigar smoke filled the air, cut only by the woodsy scent of the whiskey the lairds were drinking.

I spent the afternoon cutting cigars, filling glasses, and making shallow small talk, because no one can pretend the world isn’t on fire quite like nobility can.

Even Uncle Logan forced himself to laugh and reminisce, though he declined the cigars the way he always did. He had always been more the people’s king, disdainful of the politics in the inner circle, but that’s where my father came in. While they told war stories with Uncle Finn, the lairds visibly softened at the reminder of the way their king had fought for them. Bled for them.

Not that it meant they wouldn’t play both sides of this until the bitter end.

Of course, it wasn’t my uncle’s generation the lairds so vehemently objected to. It was who he was handing the leadership to down the line. So I joked and visited, asking after families and letting slip small initiatives I had in place for the commoners and nobility alike, eventually managing to coax smiles out of even the most surly lairds.

Except for Laird MacArthur, naturally, but I was fairly certain he didn’t know how to smile.

As my luck would have it, the one laird I really needed to speak with the most was noticeably absent. MacBay hardly needed to curry favor, what with his spotless reputation, but his absence was interesting, all the same. So when the afternoon in the parlor came to an end and the ladies were finished with tea, I approached Avani.

“Fancy a visit to our favorite semi-traitorous laird with me?”

She pursed her lips. “I was just thinking how I hadn’t used my widowdom to emotionally manipulate anyone in weeks.”

I didn’t bother pretending that wasn’t half of why I sought her out. Camdyn MacBay wasn’t a monster – at least, I didn’t think he was, and Avani was his favorite.

Or had been at one time, anyway.

“And here I come with a golden opportunity.” I held a hand to my chest. “You really should be thanking me.”

She let out a dry chuckle, and her small rodent popped its head out of her pocket at the sound. Albert glanced between the two of us before stretching his pudgy little paws for her to pick him up.

She nestled him on her shoulder, shooting me a flat look. “Would you like that gratitude expressed during our meeting with the man trying to take my throne from me, or after?”

“Dealer’s choice,” I offered with a shrug.

She rolled her eyes but followed me to the second floor of the guest wing, all the way down the hall to MacBay’s suites. They had used the same ones for years, long before Gracie’s belated arrival in court, back when MacBay’s wife was healthy enough to travel and they came with their sons for social visits rather than to incite a coup.

It felt odd now, knowing his sons and his wife were all back up north, that it was only him and Gracie in the vast suites. She was the one who opened the door, her eyebrows climbing into her hairline.

“Davin. And Your Highness,” she added with a quick curtsy for Avani. “Come in.”

Gracie was pretty, with round, pink cheeks, wide brown eyes, and a kind smile. Though Avani had often speculated her late arrival at court was a pointed bid to wait until I was ready to settle down, she had never indicated anything of the sort, and she was one of the few ladies who had made an effort to reach out to Galina.

I hated that she would be present for this less than pleasant conversation, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

“I’ll get Da’,” she said, correctly sussing out our reason for coming.

I nodded my thanks, and she left, returning moments later with MacBay. Was it my imagination, or did he look more tired than he had the day before?

His sandy blonde hair was shot through with gray, his brown eyes harder than they had been when we were growing up. Still, they softened when he looked at Avani, even as he let out an exasperated breath.

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