My blood froze in my veins, and I tried to force my foggy brain to work.
Lord Theodore took in my surprise, his face and tone devoid of emotion. “I take it you were not aware of this law.”
Anger chased away the rest of my shock at his cavalier attitude toward something that would cost Davin and I our lives. I straightened to my full five feet, making sure to look down my nose at him even though he towered over me by a solid foot.
“No, I was not aware of this law, because in Lochlann we are not barbarians who execute people over a few bottles of booze.”
A muscle in his square jaw ticked. “And in Socair, we do not wantonly break laws and oaths and believe there will be no consequences.”
Clearly, they still blamed us for the war, just because my mother had helped her best friend out of a marriage pact with a Socairan duke twice her age.
Lord Theodore straightened like he was recovering himself, the hard mask taking over once more. “Regardless,” he said, “the law is clear.”
He spun on his heels to walk away, his solid boots clacking ominously against the gray stone floors like shiny harbingers of death.
I glanced at Davin. My cousin’s face betrayed none of the fear or anxiety I knew he must be feeling, nor any accusation, even though meeting up with the smuggler had been my idea this time.
Whether he blamed me or not, I certainly did. I had to do something to get us out of this. It was a gamble, but things could hardly get worse than punishable by death.
“Wait!” I called after him, my voice echoing off of the dungeon walls.
I could see Davin’s head shake slightly in the corner of my vision, but I ignored him. The lord came to a halt, turning slightly back toward me.
“Yes?” he asked.
“You introduced yourself, but I didn’t.”
He finished turning around, his posture rigid. “That’s not—”
“I am Rowan Pendragon,” I interrupted him. “Princess and second-in-line to the throne of Lochlann.”
His full lips parted, and he shook his head wordlessly. Stepping closer to the iron bars, he looked me over, from the wild scarlet curls that hung in disarray around my face to the cream-colored dress that was filthy but made of fine crushed velvet.
He turned to look at Davin. “And you are her guard?”
I suppressed an unladylike snort.
Davin was decent with a sword, but I had been trained by my father and the formidable Lady Fia. Still, no need to make that obvious. They had taken my belted sword away, but I had my siren dagger holstered at my thigh. It would be easier to use if they didn’t suspect I knew how.
“I am Laird Davin, Marquess of Lithlinglau, and first cousin to Princess Rowan,” Davin responded, giving Lord Theodore a bow that was only slightly mocking.
A stilted silence followed Dav’s statement. The Lord pressed his full lips together like he wasn’t sure whether to curse or laugh.
“You expect me to believe that a marquess and a princess decided to risk their lives for…six bottles of vodka?”
When he put it that way…
“In our defense, it was very good vodka,” Davin chimed in.
“Besides, there shouldn’t have been a risk. We’ve been down that tunnel dozens…” I trailed off as I realized I was admitting to smuggling more than once, and Davin sighed.
“That doesn’t explain what you were doing on the Socairan side.”
“The cave-in blocked our exit back to Lochlann.” Davin spoke up. “We had no choice—”
“The rubble that has been clear for a decade just happened to close when the two of you were inside?” The lord interrupted him, his tone laced with skepticism.
And again, he looked only to Davin, as though he were the only one capable of answering. I narrowed my eyes, though that only made Theodore’s face swim in my vision.
“There was a storm.” One I had sensed coming, but I never imagined it would hit with that magnitude.
“So, a tunnel under a mountain that has weathered thousands of storms, happened to cave in right when you were strolling through?” He shot me a dubious look.
I scoffed. “Now that you mention it, perhaps we simply decided to take a leisurely five-day stroll through the frozen tunnels with no water, no cloaks, and no supplies, to visit a kingdom who hates us.”
“Indeed,” Davin tacked on gravely. “A dastardly plan that only came to fruition when your soldiers drugged us and carted us away. Now we’re just where we wanted to be, so thank you, kind sir, for playing right into our hands.”
A small snort of laughter escaped me, and Davin smirked.
“You are lying.” But doubt coated the lord’s words.
I sighed, pulling out the chain around my neck with the signet ring even I wasn’t stupid enough to leave home without.
The heavy gold seal had an embossed shield and sword, the symbol representing Lochlann. Carved into the shield was a tree with curling branches accented with leaves and berries. A rowan tree.
Theodore stared at it for a long moment before turning to walk away without a word, leaving me to wonder if telling him the truth about who I was had helped us at all.
Or was it only the latest misstep in my endless line of mistakes?
