Page 63 of Hollow Court
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she murmured under her breath. “I’m not going to waste it.”
I rested my spoon back in my bowl, giving her a slight shake of my head.
“It won’t go to waste,” I told her. “It will go to the animals. The only waste will be if it makes a reappearance on the table and the rest of us can’t enjoy our soup either.”
Galina’s eyes met mine as she brought the spoon to her lips once more, something almost challenging in the graceful arc of her hand.
She rarely chose a battle, but when she did, it always seemed to be with me. Even though I had given her a clear out, she was damned and determined to pretend she liked this stupid soup. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much except that I missed being the person who was allowed to know her.
“Would you like some vodka to pair with it?” I asked, all false congeniality. “Or will the wine be sufficient?”
She pointedly ignored me, turning to my mother instead. “The soup is truly delicious, Princess Jocelyn.”
My mother’s gracious smile widened into something more genuine when she looked at Galina. “I’m pleased you like it.”
All right, then.I pinned Galina with my stare, a smirk forming at my lips.
“She’s so shy, Mamá,” I said without turning my head. “She doesn’t want to ask for more, but I assured her that the servants can whip another up for her.”
“Absolutely,” my mother said, though her gaze narrowed just a bit at my tone. “If that’s what she wants.”
Galina’s eyes widened with what I was fairly certain was murder, but she passed off admirably as gratitude. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
The servants did, indeed, bring her another serving. And to her everlasting stubbornness, Galina lifted her spoon with all of the grace of a Socairan swan, ready to tackle the second bowl when Gallagher’s hand appeared instead.
“Would you mind terribly if I snagged this from you?” His tone was light and affable, though he threw a reproachful glance in my direction. “Partan bree is my favorite, and we can’t get it up in Alech. Too far from the sea to transport.”
My mother’s scrutinizing gaze darted between them, then to me, understanding dawning in her features. At her side, my father also seemed to take note of the exchange, though he looked more amused than annoyed.
“I could never deny you that, My Laird,” Galina responded to Gallagher, some of the guardedness leaving her countenance.
I spoke up again. “I’m sure we could ask for–”
“Don’t be gauche, Davin,” Mamá cut in smoothly. “It’s far too close to the next course for that.”
Though her court face was intact, I sensed she wished we were at one of our family dinners so she could reach over and swat me on the back of my head. I clamped my lips shut, reluctantly acknowledging that I had been outnumbered and outmaneuvered by my own family.
“Well,” Gwyn muttered from her spot to my left. “This has backfired on you quite spectacularly.”
Somehow, I thought she was talking about more than the soup.
And I couldn’t disagree.
TWENTY-THREE
Galina
After dinner,we met with Davin’s parents in their study.
Though I had spent many mornings breaking fast with the two of them, the dynamic was different now that Davin had returned.
He broke through the uneasy tension that had crept into the room alongside us, holding out a letter as soon as the door was shut.
“Rowan wrote.” He took a seat next to me on the small sofa, his leg resting against mine.
The others gave me space to read, Oliver pouring us drinks while Jocelyn seated herself in a chair across from us. I unfurled the tiny scroll and briefly scanned the contents before reading them a second time, more carefully.
Well, then. That answered the question of whether anyone had noticed I was gone.