Page 57 of Hollow Court
It wasn’t just Mac I missed, or even Rowan. I missed the days when the rebels didn’t feel like a threat. When I didn’t have to make decisions wondering which of my men would die for the necessary gamble to expose a traitor.
When there was no blood on my hands.
Pushing those thoughts away, I made my way to my parents’ study.
It was a mark of my mother’s concern that she said nothing when I sank onto one of their pristine chairs in my dusty traveling clothes. For several long breaths, I focused on anything but the memory of dead eyes, lips covered in black foam.
The white fur rugs in front of the fireplace. The sound of ice clinking in my mother’s glass of whiskey. The rustle of the curtains swaying in the breeze. The gentle, dusky light of the setting sun that made everything glow.
The chime of the grandfather clock reminded me of the time and how little of it we had before needing to head to dinner.
“Looks like you’ll have to cut short your speeches of disappointment,” I teasedhalf-heartedly.
Da’s lips pulled into a wan smirk. “After all this time, surely you know we could manage to make a single, cohesive speech of disappointment.”
I scoffed, gesturing for him to continue. “Well, then, by all means.”
My mother surprised me by responding first.
“What made you think we would be upset?” she asked sincerely. “The traitors weren’t your fault, and the betrothal… The only thing I’m upset about is that you have no intention of following through with it.”
I should have seen it coming that Mamá would like Galina.
“Well, between you and Galina, that makes one of you,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.
“And you?” Da’ pressed, eyeing me with his indifferent spymaster face.
I made sure my own features were carved into neutrality when I answered in a bored tone.
“Still just one.” I sighed. Changing the subject before they could push any more on that, I went on. “You really aren’t bothered by our plan?”
They exchanged a glance I couldn’t read.
“Honestly, no,” Mamá said, shaking her head. “It could be good for our relationship with Socair to give people a chance to see them as human. We already know most of the lairds don’t have a problem with alliances to the west, so long as they’re…advantageous.”
That was true, and something I had taken into account. Several of them had propositioned the Socairan lords with marriage contracts on behalf of their daughters when the two men visited to vie for Rowan’s hand.
“So as far as the vote goes, you’ll look both stable and responsible,” Da’ chimed in.
I tried very hard to ignore the implication that I was neither.
“That will go a long way toward regaining the favor of the lairds and the people both. Especially Laird MacBay,” he continued. “He’s here tonight. His son and daughter, as well.”
I bit back a wince.
MacBay’s estate was to the north what Lithlinglau was to the south. He was a longtime supporter of our family, but that support had been waning since Rowan married into Socair rather than punishing them for their role in our captivity.
Then there was the small matter of my liaison with his daughter, which had, rather unfortunately, made its way to him.
“However,” Mamá began, her tone a clear warning, “your show had better be flawless. There was a good chance you could have won the vote before, and I’m willing to admit introducing a Socairan fiancé was a gamble that, while unnecessary, could still sway that further in your favor if it’s handled correctly. But if the people—stars, if MacBay—gets wind that you’re lying, you may as well hand Lithlinglau over to the Andersons yourself.”
There was the speech I had been waiting for.
I nodded gravely, not wanting to think about what could happen to the royal family, to the kingdom, with Lithlinglau in the hands of likely rebels, and the oldest family at odds with us.
“That’s why we decided on six months, to get us well past the vote so the timing isn’t suspicious.”
“I’m not terribly worried about that, all things considered,” my father said, reaching into a desk drawer. “This, however…”