Page 75 of Fragile Oath

Which meant he was the only laird who didn’t have an alibi.

ChapterThirty-Three

GALINA

Davin wasearly to escort me to dinner tonight, but I didn’t mind. I had sent Anna away as soon as I was freshened up, enjoying the small bit of independence I had back now, though I didn’t quite know what to make of the dog just yet.

She seemed like she didn’t know what to make of me, either, but neither did she stray far from my side except for when she dutifully checked the room upon entering. Even now, when Davin’s familiar rap sounded at the door, she stood at attention just in front of me.

I placed a calming hand on her head, going to open the door.

Davin looked at me first, then my fierce companion, before his gaze fell to the enormous ring gracing my slim finger. For all his skill at hiding his expression, there was no concealing the confusion and subsequent revulsion that flashed across his features before he smoothed them out.

There went any doubt that he hadn’t had a hand in picking the ring out.

Malishka stayed at my left side, gently pressing into my thigh as I walked. It was a bit of an adjustment, getting used to her presence, but one I was already growing used to.

Once we got to the dining hall, I greeted first the king, then my uncle, as was appropriate. Just like Davin had, Uncle Mikhail looked first at me, then the dog that hadn’t left my side all day, before finally landing on my ring. He arched an imperious eyebrow but said nothing about it.

Said nothing in general.

His silence wasn’t quite ominous, but it was…concerning. He had agreed to let me stay until the investigation was over, but he certainly hadn't given his permission for another fake engagement. Yet he also hadn’t sent for me since the first night we spoke, or delivered any threats.

For the second night in a row, he was seated next to the family heads, squarely between Logan and Jocelyn, who didn’t appear to be outwardly perturbed at his presence.

Instead of leading us across from them like I expected him to, Davin made a beeline for the end of the table, near Camdyn MacBay. Or more precisely, near Gracie.

She let out a small sneeze, an apologetic look overtaking her features as she glanced between me and my dog.

He took the seat next to her, and Malishka dipped her massive head under the table, curling up right in front of the only available seat — right next to Fionastorms-damnedShaw. Before I could decide if that was better or worse than Davin being next to her, Gwyn and Gallagher came to sit across from us, and the soup was served.

King Logan announced the start of the meal in his booming, accented voice, and I dutifully dipped my spoon into what I realized a moment too late was crab bisque.

Lovely.

I looked to Davin, awaiting his commentary, but there was no sardonic look, no smirk, not even any judgment. He was busy, talking in low tones to the only girl he had been in something resembling an actual relationship with.

Something twisted in my gut that had nothing to do with the disgusting soup.

I had been at court long enough to know he would have married her if I hadn’t come along. When he was backed against a wall, needing to settle down for the sake of the kingdom, it would have been tiny, gentle Gracie MacBay who he chose above the others.

And why not? She was kind, and open, Lochlannian, a favorite of the court, and apparently skilled enough in the bedroom to make him want to return to her when so few women held his attention.

The most obnoxious throat-clearing I had ever heard sounded next to me, pulling me from my thoughts with something far worse.

“Well, there’s a solution no one has been bold enough to say out loud yet,” Fiona said, a fake apologetic expression on her face. “If the MacBays were wed into the royal family and had a firmer hold on the politics there, everyone would get what they want.”

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs would physically not take in any air. A soft, wet nose nudged my hand beneath the table, Malishka apparently sensing my distress. I tried to take solace in it, but the truth of Fiona’s words wouldn’t quite leave my mind.

“Did you hear that, Twinsy?” Gwyn said in what could pass as a quiet voice for her. “If you would just propose to Gracie, we could all avoid the civil war her father’s all but trying to start.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Gal said easily, but his eyes flared with aggravation at Fiona, who arched a perfect onyx eyebrow right back.

I took a tiny breath in, then out, but the crushing feeling on my chest didn’t leave me throughout the entire meal. Not when I heard Gracie sayDavin a familiar way, or when Fiona shot me knowing looks over her wine glass, or when my uncle observed the entire scene with an expression I couldn’t read.

It was all I could do to get through dinner. I barely remember Davin escorting me back, the concern that slipped into his gaze when he left me at my rooms.

“Are you—” He stopped, pursing his lips, and I remembered what he had said on the rooftop.

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