Page 36 of Dagger’s Shield

“I can manage one of the two.” He winked.

I sat at the mirror and put on my earrings.

“You’re tired,” he said, coming to stand behind me.

“I did little all day but think about things that will never happen.”

He let it go, and I was grateful and ashamed at the same time.

I could have told him about my mother’s illness right then, and he would have listened. That was the problem. If I said the words out loud, I would cry, and then I’d walk into dinner and my mother would know in an instant that I had. She wanted a celebration tonight, and I was determined to give her one.

When Dagger offered his arm at the top of the stairs, I took it.

Rémy held my chair and nodded at the bottle of wine already open on the table. “What’s the special occasion?” he asked.

“Our daughter is engaged, and our future son-in-law is here. Let’s celebrate them,” my mother told him.

My father stood and raised his glass. “It has been more than thirty years since there’s been a wedding at Valais. It will be a celebration like nothing the valley has ever seen.”

“And to the man who makes my daughter laugh,” Maman said, raising her glass toward Dagger.

He leaned in close to me. “Is everything all right?” he asked, quietly enough that only I heard.

“Perfectly.”

Until this moment, he’d been the only person in this house I didn’t have to lie to.

“I’ve given thought to the guest list,” my father began.

“Papa—”

“It’s short. Only eighty names.”

I gasped. “Eighty?”

“It cannot be done properly with fewer. There is the appellation to consider.”

“You cannot invite the entire appellation to a wedding.”

“You cannot leave anyone out, either. They’ll notice.”

Dagger coughed into his fist.

“I said it would be family only.”

“Eighty is family only,” Rémy joked. “You should see the original list he made.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to help. I’m enjoying myself. Which reminds me.” He stood, glass in hand, smirking. “I have a complaint to raise against this man.”

“Rémy,” Maman said in her warning tone, but she was smiling.

“I’ve watched these two since they arrived.” He pointed at Dagger. “He kisses her hand, her forehead, her hair, like a priest at mass. They’re supposed to be newly engaged.”

“It is a fair observation,” my father agreed, leaning against his chair. He was enjoying himself too.

“It’s not an observation. It’s a demand.” Rémy lifted his glass higher. “Do it properly, or I’ll refuse to make a speech.”