Page 95 of Hollow Court

Galina had finally relented to getting her gowns made the way she wanted them, starting with tonight’s.

Rather than a straight Socairan style, she had blended the fashions of her kingdom and mine into a brocaded silk gown that was equal parts elegant and alluring, the pale blue shade mirroring her eyes and providing a sharp contrast for her olive skin.

The neckline was high, but wide, leaving just the tops of her collarbones exposed before the fabric met at a single point on each shoulder and draped down into long, split sleeves. Her golden locks were artfully arranged around a circlet of diamonds and sapphires, a combination of her usual braids and the half-up fashion that was popular in the court here.

She was stunning on an average day, but tonight, she was absolutely devastating.

Every laird in a fifty-mile radius had signed up to escort her around the dance floor, all of them eager to speak with her. To test her out on their arms.

I had known this would happen. Hell, I had told her myself that she would have her pick of nobles by the time this was over. So I had no reason at all for the way my heart clenched every time a laird led her to the dance floor.

Away from me.

And I knew…I knew I could have stopped them by choosing to dance with her myself, but hadn’t I promised her I would help her find a suitable husband while she was helping me to win this vote?

Of course, I also knew that wasn’t the only reason I avoided dancing with her, but the others didn’t bear thinking about.

So instead, I watched while one laird after another spun her around the room, her graceful whirls and lithe motions captivating the entire room. It was Porter now, friendly bastard that he was. I couldn’t tell if she was falling for his gentle charm as she smiled up at him, all politeness and demureness.

But he was sure as stars smitten with her.

Thankfully, he was too upstanding to act on those feelings. His smile remained genuine and respectful as he held her as close as propriety would allow, and not a hairsbreadth closer.

A tugging motion at my arm interrupted my thoughts, and I looked down to see Gracie MacBay’s narrowed eyes following my gaze.

She let out a noise between a laugh and a huff as I led her into the next dance move. “You nearly missed our turn. I would ask where your head is tonight, but I think that’s obvious.”

“Apologies,” I said sincerely.

While we had a history, one that I didn’t intend to revisit, Gracie didn’t deserve to be completely ignored during our dance.

She peered up at me, something indecipherable churning in her eyes. I spun her away from me before pulling her close again.

“You really are going to marry her.” She said the words like they were an epiphany, like someone who had only just heard of our engagement for the first time tonight.

“Did you think I was announcing the betrothal for fun?” My tone was light, but it was concerning that someone already thought we were lying.

She shrugged unapologetically. “Considering the sheer volume of times you told me you didn’t want to settle down, it did occur to me you were merely playing games with the vote coming up.”

I kept my face as neutral as I could, torn somewhere between not wanting to hurt her feelings and not being able to tell her the truth.

“Gracie, I meant it at the time. I wasn’t trying to use you—”

“No, I know that,” she interrupted, her brown eyes turning rueful as she continued. “You never looked at me the way you look at her. Hell, Davin, you never look at anyone that way. Except possibly yourself in the mirror.”

“Well, can you blame me?” I joked back, happy to take the out she was giving me rather than focus on her rather unwanted assessment.

We moved through the other dancing couples, and it was an effort not to turn at the scent of lavender and rosemary.

“No,” Gracie said, her tone quieter and more serious this time. “But I wouldn’t expect that much grace from the other ladies. When they realize you’re serious, they’ll likely bring out the pitchforks.”

She paused long enough to spin out and back to me before adding in a warning tone, “Especially Fiona.”

She wasn’t wrong about that.

Ever since the surprise nudity debacle, I had upped the guard to our family wing, going so far as to tell Ewan and Hamish to watch both of our doors to keep unwanted company far, far away.

“So why aren’t you bringing out the pitchforks?” I finally asked, meeting her copper gaze.