Page 92 of Fragile Oath

“And Galina and I have ruled out quite a few more between the letters and her map,” Davin chimed in.

“Which primarily leaves the Jamesons, the MacBays, the Porters, the Grays, the Wilsons, and, of course, Fiona,” Avani listed.

The room shifted uncomfortably while the family discussed how unlikely each of them were until Gallagher spoke up, his brow furrowing in thought.

“Aren’t the Shaws known for their greenhouses?”

“Yes, but they certainly aren’t the only ones,” Oliver answered. “Besides, Lady Fiona doesn’t strike me as someone who gets her hands dirty.”

I arched an eyebrow at that, thinking we perhaps had different opinions on what Fiona was or was not willing to do with her hands.

“But she certainly has the resources to pay someone else to do that,” Avani added. “And plenty of the Uprising to do her bidding based on their sheer blind hatred.”

The Captain let out a bitter laugh. “By that logic, it could be any of them.”

“But poison is traditionally a woman’s weapon,” Jocelyn said.

Gwyn’s features flashed with indignation, but Davin nodded.

“Mamá would know,” he countered.

Jocelyn neither confirmed nor denied his statement, and I gathered the fate of her late husband was one of the worst-kept secrets in the kingdom.

“So, you do think it’s Fiona?” I spoke up for the first time since we entered the study.

Jocelyn grimaced. “Not necessarily. She doesn’t have a clear motive that I can see, but I think we can’t rule anyone out until we know what we’re working with.”

“If I could have one of those samples, I can look into it,” I offered. I was by no means an expert, but we couldn’t trust anyone outside of this room to look into it.

“I can help,” Gallagher offered. “And catch you up on what I’ve discovered so far, which is very close to nothing.”

With that settled, Davin and I headed back to our rooms. He dropped me off at my door for the sake of the guards, but it wasn’t long before he made his way across the balcony, tapping lightly at my door.

I unlocked it to allow him entry, and he pulled me against him without preamble.

“Do you want to tell me what happened at dinner?” he asked, his voice soft against my hair.

“Not particularly,” I said with a sigh.

He nodded, not pushing, and I reminded myself that I had resolved to give him more.

So I took a deep breath, adding, “But I will.”

Then I made myself explain as much as I could while he listened without interruption. He didn’t offer magic solutions or tell me things were fine. He just ran his fingers through my hair and put his lips on my skin and, little by little, helped lift some of the suffocating weight from me.

Now I just had to figure out how to do the same for him.

* * *

The next morning,once he had snuck back to his rooms, Malishka gave the quick yip that heralded Anna’s arrival.

She loved my maid, who never failed to bring treats in her pockets. Today, she brought something for me, as well.

“The jeweler just finished with it, milady,” she said, handing out an intricately engraved silver box.

I opened it to find my charm bracelet nestled in the velvet interior. Gently, I ran my fingers over the familiar charms. The rosemary from my father. The outline of the mountains from my mother, a reminder of the view we both loved from our sitting room. There was a tiny sparkling version of a jeweled egg from my uncle, as well, and a smattering of other charms that had been gifts throughout the years.

But it was pure, untainted by the wolf’s head that had broken my skin and my spirit in the two years it marred my bracelet.

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