Page 7 of Hollow Court
For my part, I was content, or at least resigned, to let Alexei lead me through several dances, during which I definitely did not notice Davin and the array of courtiers surrounding him at any given time.
He was an excellent dancer, though I knew that already. What was it he had said?
There are dances in the villages back home.
Der’mo. I had been such an idiot to believe him.
His familiar chuckle drifted over to me, and I fought to keep my features neutral.
“Is everything all right, Galina?” Each of Alexei’s words landed like the edge of a blade, sharply honed, precisely aimed to be a warning rather than an inquiry into my wellbeing.
“Of course. I’m a bit parched is all,” I said, letting an embarrassed flush take over my cheeks.
“Sit down and rest. I’ll get you a drink.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
Though it wasn’t uncommon for a husband to take the lead here, Alexei had managed to take an arrangement built on trust and protection and turn it into a dictatorship before we were even married.
I squashed the traitorous line of thought before it could show in my features. Besides, it wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion, and he was fulfilling his end of the duties by taking care of me.
Still, I stood on the side of the dance floor for longer than was strictly necessary before turning to go back to our table. I was so lost in convincing myself not to hate my fiancé that I nearly plowed right into someone on the way back to my seat.
“Oh, my apol—” I began in my own Socairan dialect.
The word abruptly cut off as I realized it was my least favorite Lochlannian I had almost run into. He raised a single black arrogant eyebrow.
“Apologies,” I repeated in the common tongue, though my tone was markedly frostier.
He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Alexei’s return.Agitation rolled off of my fiancé in waves.
“Your drink, my darling.” He spoke in Davin’s language as well, handing me a silver goblet.
Davin looked from the goblet to me, a humorless smirk gracing his lips.
“Excellent vodka, don’t you think?” he asked conversationally.
Aalio.
He knew perfectly well that I didn’t like vodka. He might have been the only person who knew, for that matter.
“Delicious,” I agreed, taking a deep sip.
It tasted like astringent. Pungent. Bitter. Dry.
Disgusting.
Davin’s smirk widened, and I wondered if there was any way for me to accidentally spill thisexcellentvodka all over his perfectly tailored navy waistcoat. Before I had the chance to find out, Alexei’s hand came around my waist in a proprietary gesture as he said something pointed about us taking our seats.
I nodded to Davin with all the goodwill I couldn’t quite muster, then allowed Alexei to lead me away, pretending I couldn't feel the weight of Davin’s gaze and the weight of my fiancé’s ire.
Pretending.
That seemed like all I did these days.
* * *
Alexei was angry.
He practically stormed down the hallway as he escorted me back to my rooms, well before the ball had ended.