Page 72 of Hollow Court
Of course she knew. She was the biggest gossip at court. My parents were the collective spymaster of all of Lochlann, and still, Fiona Shaw rivaled them in the speed with which she gathered information.
“I have,” I confirmed. “Which is why I’m ready to sleep now.”
It was a lie.
My mind was a maelstrom. There was no rest to be had.
“Or,” she countered, her hands moving to the top button of my jacket, “you could let me make it better. Do you want me to beg?”
She stretched up to purr that very sincere offer in my ear.
I let out a slow, controlled breath.
It would be so easy to cave, to bury myself in Fiona and let her temporary warmth chase away memories of questioning my own men in the dungeons. To work out some of the tension that thrummed through my veins. To enjoy the feeling of being wanted after a night of weathering Galina’s icy courtesy and false smiles.
Galina, who had made me want things I shouldn’t, then told me it meant nothing to her. Who had spent her evening subtly surveying her options for when our undesirablearrangementwas finished. Who was across the hall right now, probably hating me.
I placed my hands firmly on Fiona’s waist, and her lips tilted up in a victorious smirk.
Until I picked her up and moved her away from me before setting her back down. Reaching behind me, I grabbed her dress from the chair, handing it out to her.
“Good night, Fiona.” This time, I left no room for argument.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, more exasperated than offended. “You know where to find me when you change your mind.”
I didn’t bother responding. She dressed quickly and left without a backward glance.
Then I was alone, surrounded by the deafening silence and the weight of my mistakes, wondering if I was an idiot for wanting the closest thing I had felt to peace since Mac died.
Even if it had been mostly lies.
TWENTY-FIVE
Galina
As exhausted as I was,sleep did not come easily.
Or at all.
The night went by in a torrent of what-ifs, until the darkness threatened to swallow me and I could feel the ghost of Alexei’s fingers grasping at my arm, gripping me closer to him. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
If you would behave, I wouldn’t get so frustrated, Galina.
His voice morphed into a Lochlannian accent, the imprint of his hand transforming into an assassin’s blade.
I threw my blankets off, practically running to the balcony. The burst of night air soothed me, cooling the thin sheen of sweat that had settled over my skin. I gulped in greedy lungfuls, letting the still, calm night wash over me.
It wasn’t enough. I was still trapped with the wall behind me and the trees stretching out in front of me. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to see the stars.
With Davin home, it was probably safe to venture onto the rooftop. Surely, if the soldiers on guard were suspicious, they would go to him.
I might have risked it anyway, with how I was feeling tonight.
After ducking into my room to throw on a dressing gown, I crept back out onto the balcony. The icy sting of the iron staircase bit through the silk of my slippers, but it was worth it for an unobstructed view of the sky.
Or, the view would have been unobstructed, had there not been a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing against the far balcony.
I froze as Davin turned to face me, cool blue eyes locking onto mine.