Page 27 of Hollow Court

The northern pass—the only other route between our kingdoms—wasn’t accessible this time of year. Even if it had been, we couldn’t afford the weeks it took to traverse. So we were left with the suffocating tunnel that had been roughly carved through the mountain itself for the sole purpose of bringing war to our people.

My shoulders tensed as soon as we left the last lingering ray of sunlight behind. In contrast, Gwyn breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank the stars we’re finally out of that kingdom.”

“Because the tunnels are so pleasant in the early autumn chill.” Sarcasm coated each of my words.

“At least here, no one is trying to muzzle me,” she bit back.

“Don’t speak too soon, Twinsy,” Gallagher said. “It depends on how loud you get in this very cramped space.”

She punched him in the arm, and he might have made a face at her. It was impossible to tell in the low lantern light.

As the hours crept by, I was grateful for the steady stream of chatter that Gwyn and Gal kept up. The longer we spent in the endless, suffocating darkness that had nearly claimed my life, the harder it was for me to be entertaining.

Galina, too, was even quieter than usual. She sat stoically at my side in the narrow, open wagon, once again unnaturally still. She didn’t complain about the damp air or the rapidly dropping temperatures or the pervasive smell of dirt.

She didn’t say anything, really, except for the occasionalYes, My Laird, andThank you, My Lairdwhen I offered her food or water.

When we finally stopped for the night, though, she let out a small sigh of relief—the only indication that her experience thus far had been less than tolerable.

I held out a hand to help her down from the wagon, and she gave me another appreciative nod, leaning in closer when the soldiers’ eyes were on us. The familiar scent of rosemary and lavender wafted from her, bringing with it a visceral slew of memories I could have done without.

Galina, looking sardonically down at me, her tone chiding and unimpressed as she called me a laskipaa.

Her gentle hands contrasting her sharp expression when she treated my bruises.

Her soft, unexpected laugh on an empty rooftop.

Her hair falling in silky waves around us while—

“Thank you, My Laird.” The echo of the empty, perfunctory phrase she had been using all day was enough to pull me from those thoughts.

None of it mattered now, anyway. I had been wrong to think the few scattered moments where I saw a truer version of her meant anything, in the end.

Though something about the way she locked eyes with me made me wonder if I wasn’t the only one caught up in memories of the things we never were.

* * *

Givenour rather limited options for accommodations, we were forced to make camp in cramped caverns just off the main tunnel. The soldiers slept in the tunnel itself, alternating with guard shifts. Not that we expected any trouble, but it would be foolish to rule it out, especially in light of all the…circumstances.

Then again, some of the guards themselves were a bit of a problem. I didn’t like the lingering glances they shot Galina’s way. Some were for obvious reasons, but others…I wasn’t as sure.

I wanted to trust my men, but her safety wasn’t something I was prepared to gamble with.

In that vein, I laid out Galina’s fur-lined bed roll closest to the cavern wall, and furthest from the opening, since she was the only one who couldn’t physically defend herself. Gwyn would insist on being closest to the opening, for the opposite reason.

My roll went next to Galina’s, while Gallagher’s was sandwiched between mine and his twin’s.

Galina returned from where she had been filling up the soldiers’ canteens, a job she had taken upon herself apropos of nothing. The men accepted her help with varied reactions.

While some of their anger had faded as they spent more time around her, some of them remained just as resolutely stubborn and biased as ever, barely even thanking her when she handed them their canteens.

“That one’s yours.” I pointed to her bedroll.

“And yours?” she asked, her gaze already settling on the one next to it.

I nodded, bracing myself for an argument, but she only returned the gesture with resignation, settling wordlessly into her blankets.