Page 9 of Hollow Court
Alexei took a deep breath, exhaling through his aquiline nose, his almond-colored eyes boring into mine. “So you say. If I find out you’re lying—”
A knock at the door startled us both. His gaze snapped to the door and back to me, narrowing in suspicion. The blood drained from my face. I didn’t think Davin would come here when we had nothing left to say to each other, but if he had…
My pulse galloped within my chest, drowning out every other sound for several heartrending seconds.
Alexei stalked over to the door, opening it with a steadiness that belied the rage in his eyes. I stood straighter, holding my breath for a count of three before a familiar voice reached my ears.
“I came to check on my daughter, though I must say I’m surprised to see you in her rooms when the vows have not yet been exchanged.”
The air left my lungs in a relieved whoosh, my father’s voice as comforting now as it had been when I was a child having nightmares.
Only now I was an adult, living one.
“Apologies, sir.” Alexei almost sounded sincere. “She was feeling unwell, so I helped her inside.”
“I see. I’ll take it from here,” my father said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Of course.” Alexei’s hands turned to fists at his side, the tan skin on his neck blushing with a furious red. Slowly, he turned to me. “Goodnight,Radnaya. May you rest well.”
Had anyone ever hated being calledmy dearmore than I did right now?
“Goodnight, My Lord,” I forced myself to respond.
May you casually die on the way back to your chambers.
My heartbeat slowed to something resembling a normal speed, though my thoughts were still fuzzy and my head still pounding. Alexei was gone, for now, but it wasn’t like I was rid of him. I would never be rid of him.
Tucking my trembling fingers into my sleeves and trying to ignore the pain coursing from my head down my spine, I turned to face my father.
“Malishka,” he said quietly, coming in and shutting the door behind him.
One word, and the tears threatened to spill over again.
“Papa,” I responded, barely breathing while I waited for him to ask the inevitable question.
Or worse, to fling an accusation.
When he spoke, though, it wasn’t at all what I was expecting.
“I had an interesting discussion with our new queen tonight,” he began.
I nodded mutely. I didn’t know where he was going with this, but my father was not one for idle chatter, so I listened.
“She was frustrated about the treaty,” he commented in the same conversational tone. “It would seem that she had wanted the extradition clause for women removed, but the dukes forestalled her. So all she could do was get a caveat added. Apparently, any lady who is married or betrothed to someone in Lochlann cannot be sent back to Socair.”
His words hung in the air between us, suspended along with my very palpable disbelief.
He couldn’t be suggesting what I thought he was. It was treason for him to even think about going against the duke’s wishes—brother-in-law or not.
I let out a long, slow breath.
“That was an interesting conversation topic for a ball,” I breathed.
His crystalline eyes met mine gravely. “I took a scholarly interest, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed numbly.
The only thing my father had a scholarly interest in was medicine. He despised politics. Which meant he had asked for me. Forthis.