Page 42 of Hollow Court
Because Davin was standing in the center of the room.
Or, rather, a slightly older version of Davin. The man had the same cobalt eyes and onyx hair, though his was graying at the temples. His build was identical, too. Tall and broad-shouldered, but not quite bulky. And when he smirked, it tugged at his lips in exactly the same way.
He stood next to a diminutive blond woman, her elegant features drawing in confusion as she scanned first the two of us, and then the empty hallway.
“Where’s Davin?” Prince Oliver asked.
His voice was different from his son’s, less clipped and more drawling, and currently edged with a trace of panic. It was a reminder that only two years had passed since their son disappeared beneath the mountains.
“Safe,” Gallagher responded quickly. “On his way. He sent you this.”
While Prince Oliver took the letter, Davin’s mother turned to me. There was a clear question in her navy eyes.
“This is Lady Galina Zhakarov,” Gallagher said, gesturing to me.
“Lady Galina of Clan Ram?” Princess Jocelyn clarified, her perfect blond eyebrows climbing into her hairline.
It would be easy to think Davin had gotten nothing from her, but the similarities were in the nuances. The cadence of her speech, her clipped, cultured tone, and the subtle way she assessed me with a single, sweeping glance.
Gallagher nodded, exchanging a look with the princess that I couldn’t quite read while I swept into a curtsy.
Had she memorized the entire Socairan court? Knowing her son, it wasn’t unlikely.
“And our son’s betrothed, apparently,” Prince Oliver added. “For the time being.”
I held my breath for her reaction.
Princess Jocelyn blinked several times, the expression almost eerily reminiscent of her son.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Galina,” she said after a beat.
Her husband echoed the sentiment.
“And you as well,” I responded.
“Dare I ask how one might be betrothed ‘for the time being’?” A bare hint of exasperation lined her voice.
She was already holding her hand out for the letter, which Prince Oliver swiftly relinquished to her. She scanned the contents, her lips quirking in displeasure before she smoothed them back out again.
“Very well, then,” she finally said, her hands falling to her sides, fingers tightly gripping the parchment. “I’m sure you’d like to get some rest after the journey you’ve had. We can get to know each other better in the morning, but in the meantime, Gallagher can show you to your rooms. The blue ones,” she added.
Oliver shot her a sideways glance, and the corner of Gallagher’s mouth tilted up. I got the feeling there was a joke I wasn’t quite in on.
“Yes, Auntie Jocelyn.” He dipped his head in assent.
“And Gal, come right back,” Prince Oliver added pointedly.
“Yes, Uncle Oli.” This time, Gallagher’s tone was more resigned than polite.
I didn’t envy him that conversation.
Once we were safely in the hallway, he let out a slow breath.
“Well. That could have gone much worse.”
He wasn’t wrong, though I still wasn’t entirely certain how it had gone. They hadn’t actively tried to make me leave, which was something. If anything, they had almost seemed to…accept it.
I wasn’t ready to let my guard down, though.