Page 172 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

“Well,” she whispered in a tone that had every last one of my senses on alert and ready, “I suppose that will have to do.”

She reached across me to draw the curtains on the carriage window before situating herself between my legs.

I swallowed hard, my gaze raking over her, from her wild crimson curls to the cloak she was shedding with her deft fingers.

“Lemmikki,” I began, unsure how I had been about to follow that up as she pressed her finger to her lips.

As much as there was a part of me that wanted to remain alert to the dangers around us, I also knew I could trust my men to warn us if things shifted. At least, that’s what I told myself as the warmth of my wife’s mouth caressed my skin, chasing away every coherent thought and concern I’d had only moments ago.

It was strange how quickly things had changed with our allies at Wolf. Of course, things between our clans had been strained after the Summit, even more so since the news of my alliance in Lochlann, but after the wedding in Bear, I thought I had regained some of the ground lost with Nils.

Now, though, I wasn’t so sure.

Nils and his family went through the motions of hosting us, but tension rippled through the dining room, echoing through every stilted movement and awkward pleasantry.

The silences between conversations were somehow louder than the scraping sound of our spoons against the ceramic soup bowls.

Though, I was willing to accept that it was our impending visit to the Obsidian Palace that had everyone on edge.

For her part, my lemmikki did an admirable job of playing her role. She was gracious, her pronunciation of Socairan terms as fluent as her manners, despite the small slights of both the duke and his wife, who were just as content to pretend she didn’t exist.

Which was at least better than the alternative.

It was a relief, too, that my father had been able to keep a tight rein on his sanity for the evening. Despite a few moments ofconfusion that could be chalked up to his age and the exhaustion that came with traveling, there were no major incidents.

When it came time to retire for the evening, we were more than ready to dismiss ourselves to our rooms. But there was still unfinished business with my longest standing ally, so when he made the customary offer of vodka and cigars after dessert—one that was more polite to refuse than accept due to the lateness of the hour—I waited for everyone else to decline before accepting.

Nils sighed, the exasperation in his weathered expression slightly more pronounced than usual.

“Do you not need to see to your new wife?” he asked once we were alone in the parlor. It was the first time he’d actually acknowledged her presence since our arrival.

I shook my head, offering a flippant gesture in the direction of our room.

“She will be fine long enough for me to catch up with an old friend,” I said, making my way to the liquor cart.

Once we left the safety of Wolf Estate, I would need to worry about Rowan’s safety once again. But Nils was a man of his word, and despite his feelings on the subject, I knew he would protect my wife as surely as I would protect his.

After pouring us both a glass of vodka, I made my way over to the seating area next to the window.

It was an overly formal custom for the guest to serve the host in our kingdom, but one I had hoped would show the respect I intended to give him, the honor I placed on our alliance.

“Besides,” I continued, handing him one of the small crystal glasses engraved with the head of a wolf, “I thought we should speak as friends, if not allies, before heading into the unknown tomorrow.”

Nils let out a shortharrumph, accepting the glass before pointedly glancing at the clock on the wall. “If there is a point you wish to make, do so now. The hour is late, and I am old.”

Indeed.

I raised my glass, careful not to let any of my frustration show in my features.

“Nostrovia,” I said, making one final attempt at a gesture of goodwill by thanking him for the liquor before drinking it down.

He muttered something incoherent beneath his breath before doing the same. His gaze shifted to the family portrait on the wall—one that was older than me—of the duke and his wife and their son when he was a boy.

“I am concerned that things between our clans are not at peace,” I said, refilling our glasses.

His gaze cut back to mine, his graying brow arching in question. “You certainly did not seem concerned when you made a decision for your clan that directly insulted mine.”

There was no bite to his words, only something resembling exhaustion.