Page 89 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
It made sense that they would be concerned about her return to Socair, considering she had only recently returned from the kingdom that had tried to keep her.
“I have to—” she started to respond, but a booming voice cut her off.
“No, ye dinna have to,” the king barreled over her. “I told ye I could take care of it, but instead of trusting me to do that, ye decided to traipse off and marry into the kingdom that repeatedly tried to kill ye.”
I blinked, digesting the new information. Rowan’s father had offered her a way out, a way to avoid marrying either of us.
And still, she had said yes.
My gaze slid over to her, taking in the resolved expression on her perfect features. I told myself his refusal to accept our marriage didn’t matter, especially when I couldn’t exactly argue the dangers in Socair, but my jaw still clenched in response.
It might not matter to me, but it was evident that it mattered to Rowan. She sucked in a breath to respond, her eyes blazing with something far more furious than mischief this time, but once again, she was cut off.
“Logan,” the queen said in an uncharacteristically sharp tone. “I’m sure Ellie is up from her nap. Why don’t you go fetch her?”
He turned to meet his wife’s eyes, his hard expression never faltering. She stared him down silently, until he surprised me by nodding and getting to his feet. Though perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, since I had seen the fierce man cave to his daughter on something far more important, stilling his sword just because she asked him to.
Not that he seemed to be especially pliant toward her these days.
Another chair slid backward, and I turned to see Isla rising from her seat as well. Unlike Rowan, the tiny woman was fairly adept at keeping her features even, but her voice was another story.
“I believe I’ll help,” she said, each word coated in ice.
She stalked after her cousin, closing the door behind them with a bang.
If I had thought the room was quiet when we arrived, it was nothing compared to the silence that settled around us now. Fortunately, awkward, silent dinners were nothing new for me, so it was easy not to react.
Not so for the Lochlannians who fidgeted in their seats.
“I apologize for my husband,” Queen Charlotte said after several uncomfortable ticks of the clock. “He’s not usually...” she trailed off with a wince, like she couldn’t quite force herself to finish what was obviously going to be a lie.
Avani sighed, speaking up at dinner for a rare change. “There’s no point in sugar-coating it now, Mamá.” She looked at me with a shrug. “You’re marrying into quite the temperamental family.”
That was not news to me, but I wisely held my tongue on that subject for obvious reasons.
“It’s all the red hair,” Prince Finn added with a glance toward the door.
“Though I’m sure you never would have guessed that, what with Rowan being so amicable and accommodating,” Davin offered, directing his smirk at an unresponsive Rowan.
I tilted my lips up as well, more for her sake than my own. Her silence always brought me back to the endless days behind the canopy of my bed.
“Thosearethe words I most often use to describe her,” I said lightly, pressing my leg subtly against hers.
Finally, she straightened and nodded with a bare effort at a smile.
“As well you should,” she rasped out.
“I received a note from Master MacMillan just before dinner,” Jocelyn offered. “He has new sketches for you to review that he assures me are…less ornate than the other options.”
“You mean she doesn’t want the seventeen tiers of glory that Avani had?”
The heir in question shot Davin a look of mock offense. “It was only twelve, and I didn’t pick that cake. My ridiculous groom did.”
A shadow passed over her eyes, but she blinked it away.
Davin let out a laugh, though there was an air of sadness to it. The door opened before he could respond, though, emitting the king with his youngest daughter in his arms, followed shortly by Isla.
They both got to their seats in silence, until Isla cleared her throat pointedly.