Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
M y pulse thundered as I walked away from them, finally taking in the things Rowan’s proximity had kept me from noticing.
Like Korhonan dancing with whom I assumed was her sister, based on the same bright hair and features I was now accustomed to, while he kept his eyes firmly on Rowan.
And the guards lining the walls and balcony, though not nearly as many as there would have been in Socair for an event like this. While there were soldiers stationed at the three entrances, presumably to watch for intruders, every one of them had their attention fixed inward on the enemies that had invaded their midst.
I met the cold stare of a soldier with one of my own before casting my attention toward my men instead. Ever at attention, poised and ready for any shift in their environment, their assessing gazes constantly scanned the room.
Yuriy and Pavel stood apart from the rest, opposite two Elk guards at the top of the balcony. My cousin caught my eye, and I gave him a subtle nod to assure him all was well.
As well as it could be with Princess Pain-in-the-Arse and her asinine not-quite-suitor. I took a deep breath to keep my fists from clenching, continuing toward the table with the queen.
Before I even reached the edge of the dance floor, a familiar figure approached, wearing an even more familiar smirk.
“And here I thought Socairans lived and died on decorum,” Davin said, pushing a glass of amber liquid into my hand.
At least he was bringing liquor along with his charming personality.
His face was clean-shaven, his dark hair carefully styled, both in contrast to the only other time I had seen him. But the amusement in his blue eyes and the mocking in his tone were exactly as I remembered them.
“ Laird Davin, a pleasure to see you again,” I intoned, taking the glass and ignoring his pointed remark.
“There’s that false congeniality I knew you were capable of,” he responded, his smile firmly in place while he nodded at people as we passed. “Drink up. You look like you need it.”
Little as I wanted to prove him right, I very much did need a drink. Especially as the sweeping steps of the dance led the princess and her father closer to our side of the floor.
I took a deep dreg, then froze before forcing myself to swallow the overly sweet liquor. No wonder they had risked their lives for vodka, if this was the alternative.
Davin chuckled under his breath, turning to lead me in a roundabout way toward the royal table.
“There are drier whiskeys, of course, but I picked that one just for you,” he said with a wink, gesturing toward my glass with his.
Of course he did. I drained the rest of the abominable liquor, keeping my features even. Davin laughed outright, clapping me on the shoulder like we were old friends.
It didn’t escape my notice that Davin was very intentionally parading me the long way around the room in a show of support for my presence. The Socairan in me wondered what his motives were, but it wasn’t far-fetched to assume he also wanted to avoid conflict between our peoples.
So I refrained from physically removing his hand from my person, because I, too, knew how to put on a show.
“I suppose now we can consider ourselves even for all that unfortunate claiming of my cousin business.”
My eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“And here I thought your collaboration with the spy in my home had accomplished that,” I murmured behind a bland smile.
Davin only raised his glass in response, his smirk widening.
We reached the family table at last, where the queen sat with a half-empty glass of her own whiskey, along with a couple I didn’t know. Familiar spring-green eyes surveyed me with blatant curiosity, and it wasn’t hard to surmise where Rowan inherited her inability to hide her features. That was where the similarities ended, though. Queen Charlotte had dark brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her light tan skin. Her features held a softness that was notably lacking in both Rowan and the king.
“Your Majesty,” I greeted with the customary bow.
“Lord Evander,” she returned, overemphasizing the or sound just as her daughter did, though her tone was warmer, gentler. “What a pleasant surprise .”
Said with all the subtlety of her daughter. That certainly hadn’t taken long.
She gestured for us to take the seats across from her at the table.
I took an even breath, sitting in the ornate chair before responding.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I had planned to send my cousin and his new wife when obligations at Bear would have kept me home, but I was unexpectedly available to make the journey myself.”
By which I meant, I had no choice but to come myself when your daughter insisted on allying herself to my enemy clan.
The queen took a sip of her drink.
“I see. But the purpose of your journey remains the same?” Her tone was curious as her gaze slid behind me to where I could practically feel the presence of the two people in this room I least wished to address just now.
There was no point in lying when the issue of Rowan’s betrothal to Elk would need to be addressed sooner rather than later.
“For the most part,” I acknowledged. “Though the recent talks of an…alliance do pose a quandary for Bear.”
“Yes, quite the pickle, indeed,” Davin said helpfully at my side.
The queen pursed her lips, as if trying to bite back amusement, but before she could respond, a woman’s clipped voice cut in.
“All things that can be discussed at tomorrow’s council meeting, I’m sure.”
My fingers twitched around my glass at the mention of the meeting. I had prepared myself as thoroughly as I could, had gone through every scenario, every possible accusation that could be hurled my way about my father’s sanity, or lack thereof.
I turned my attention to the tiny blonde woman seated next to Queen Charlotte and dipped my chin once to acknowledge her words.
Though she didn’t share any features with Davin, I would have guessed they were related from the way she assessed me under a single arched eyebrow. Also, on her right sat the mirror image of Davin, save for the graying hair at his temples, giving away the identity of who these people had to be.
“My parents, Princess Jocelyn and Prince Oliver.” Davin’s introductions were unnecessary by then, since their identities had been obvious, but I nodded all the same.
Afterward, they made a bit of small talk about my journey, not bothering to hide their scrutiny of each of my answers. It didn’t bother me. This was familiar territory; a game I could play in my sleep.
Nothing at all like dealing with her . Fiery red hair danced in my periphery, as if to taunt me as she moved across the dance floor.
Several minutes into my exchange with Rowan’s family, the music quieted and Davin cleared his throat.
“As much as I hate to end this fascinating conversation, there are a few ladies I’m sure are waiting for the dashing lord’s attention. And mine,” he added with another lopsided grin.
The queen hid a smile behind her whiskey glass, while his mother seemed to barely suppress an eyeroll.
A quick glance around the room revealed Davin wasn’t wrong, though. At the very least, I was garnering several curious stares. But I followed his gaze first to Rowan’s small rigid form, back to me like she was deliberately refusing to look my way, then to Korhonan who was subtly glaring at me over a glimmering tiara nestled into smooth red waves belonging to Rowan’s sister.
Both would likely be headed here when the song ended.
Der’mo .
Clearly, Davin wanted to avoid another scene. Which was fair, since just the sight of Korhonan’s smarmy features made Rowan’s voice echo in my head.
We’ve had plenty of time to get to know one another intimately . Bile rose in my throat once more, my fist clenching around the empty whiskey glass. I got to my feet to follow Davin, suddenly just as eager to be away from this table as Davin was to move me.
I reminded myself—for roughly the thousandth time—that the point of this trip was for my clan. For the relationship between our two kingdoms. To keep my people from a war.
That was it. It had nothing at all to do with the princess ignoring my presence behind me.
There might have been signs of contention brewing amongst the soldiers and on the road, but there didn’t appear to be much prejudice within the ballroom itself.
At least, not among the many lairds who were throwing their daughters my way. There were those who hung back, of course, casting wary or suspicious glances, but the overwhelming majority were in the former category.
I felt eyes on me constantly, and though I knew the Lochlannians were plenty curious, this was a stare I was intrinsically familiar with. I refused to turn in Rowan’s direction, though, taking every ounce of Socairan decorum drilled into me from the time I was a child and directing it at the incredibly unsubtle dance partner before me.
“I see the vultures have descended,” Lady Fiona said, gesturing with her eyes to the pack of ladies waiting for the song to end.
She hadn’t cared that I was mid-introduction with the Wilson family when she decided to interrupt, extending her elegant hand toward mine while brazenly asking for the next dance. Or that a veritable crowd had gathered since I escorted her to the dancefloor.
I had a healthy respect for someone willing to go after what they wanted, and at the very least, she offered a break in the monotony of encounter after encounter with the simpering ladies of the court, so I only nodded.
“Fortunate there are no vultures here, then,” I responded, letting a small bit of teasing enter my tone.
She let out a light laugh. “I’d never be so common as that.”
“No, I don’t think anyone would describe you that way,” I said honestly. Her gown was crimson and cut low, her dark tresses falling in a pattern designed to draw attention to her curves.
She was objectively pretty, even underneath the cosmetics, and there was a ruthless sort of practicality that bled through everything she did. I almost wished I could be tempted by her long enough to dispel the image of Rowan backed against a cabin wall, peering up at me through her lashes with her swollen lips parted in surprise.
But I would never complicate the already tenuous situation here.
“You’re too kind, even if we both know you aren’t exactly on the market.” Her voice sliced through my thoughts, her gaze sliding in the direction I was pointedly avoiding.
She reached up her hand to brush a lock of hair back from my forehead, something I suspected she was doing for the audience I refused to acknowledge.
Thus far, everyone in Lochlann, even the soldiers on the road, had been prone to casual touch, but Lady Fiona was decidedly more forward than the rest.
“No,” I confirmed. “I’m not here for a wife.”
The corner of her mouth tilted up in something like mockery, but she only leaned closer, her voice a near whisper when she responded.
“Neither am I looking for a husband, but I wouldn’t let that hold me back from having a little fun with our infamously attractive new allies.” She said the word infamously like it was something scandalous, her gaze lingering on my lips while her hand tightened on my bicep.
I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped me at her sheer, raw nerve. Not subtle or shy, as it turned out. But the calculating gleam in her eye told me she was looking for far more than a release. Though I couldn’t precisely say I had ever met anyone exactly like her, I knew her type all the same. Women who dealt in information like currency.
She might want an evening of fun, but more than that, she wanted the pillow talk that came after, and I wasn’t interested in either.
I spun her out to get some space, keeping her a bit farther when she returned.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said noncommittally.
Her smirk turned a bit wry, like she knew that I wouldn’t, and we finished the dance in a silence that was neither strained nor companionable.
The next few dances were far less eventful. No one outright propositioned me, aside from a few lairds who made it clear their daughters were very eligible. I was grateful that I wasn’t obligated by custom to anyone in the royal family to dance, both because I would have had to fight my way through a hoard of eager courtiers and also because I wasn’t in a hurry for more of their scrutiny.
All the same, I found myself close enough to observe them, or at least, the one member of the royal family that had brought me here in the first place. Close enough for my hand to twitch toward my sword when a laird stared at my lemmikki with the same leer I associated with Mikhail.
A muscle clenched in my jaw.
At the laird. At myself for still being consumed with things that should by no means concern me.
I was still stewing in that frustration when she snuck out only minutes later, nausea churning in my gut when I saw Korhonan’s possessive hand on her lower back as he led her out of the room.
Like she was his to protect. Like she was his anything .