Wildest Dreams

Chapter Twenty-Two

King to Princess

Five days later…

I sat curled in the corner of the bench in front of the window and studied Skylar, who looked very small sitting behind Frey’s desk.

The tip of Skylar’s tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on some addition and subtraction questions I’d written on a piece of paper.

He looked cute, very boyish and even younger than his eleven (I’d learned) years.

I was giving him distance and time so he could concentrate.

I was also trying not to think of my husband and his men off on their adventure, something I didn’t even try to talk Frey into allowing me to participate in. I was okay on a horse and now wasn’t a total amateur with a bow and knife but I’d had not that first lesson in being stealthy or participating in a raid and was in no way experienced enough with the limited skills I had to try them out on a mission as important as this.

So, three nights ago we set anchor and without delay, under the moonlight, the men lowered a boat into the water and rowed ashore.

Frey said the operation, if it went well, would take five or six days. One would be spent on travel, three or four would be spent on gathering updated intel and reconnaissance, then they’d do the deed (hopefully) and it would take a day to come back.

Then we were again away, back to Lunwyn so that Frey could meet with Ruben to hear his report on how his business went. And after that, Frey gave me the choice of seeing his lodge, his chalet, his fishing cottage, travelling to one of his foreign properties or returning to his hunting cabin.

I was still considering this choice and about every other minute I settled on a different location.

But I had time to think about it.

And hopefully I would have a lifetime to experience them all.

Before he left, Frey had decided how I would work through Skylar’s discomfort and I thought his decision was excellent.

That was for me to teach Skylar reading and math.

Kell had taken an interest in the boy but Kell, being Kell, had not devoted his days to these endeavors. Therefore, whenever the fancy struck him, he would work with Skylar.

I had learned in short order after Frey called Skylar to his cabin and told him he would begin tutorials with me that the fancy hadn’t struck Kell often. I also learned that if Skylar was uncomfortable around me normally, the thought of me teaching him anything terrified him and, even though he fought to hide it, especially in front of Frey, he didn’t succeed. Lastly, upon gently instigating some simple exercises, I found his skills were rudimentary at best. But at least we weren’t starting from the drawing board.

The first two tutorials began with Frey in attendance but he didn’t stay long, leaving the boy with me after Skylar’s attention was turned from his fear to his work. The ensuing days without Frey it took me longer to settle him in. But today he was settled and I was giving him space to work through his assignment without me hovering.

And I was thinking about Frey, where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe and lastly, the two days we shared before he and his men rowed away.

To say the adela tea heightened our awareness of each other was a vast understatement.

And it didn’t only succeed in this sexually but in every way.

In our short time together, I’d attuned to Frey’s moods, tones and learned his expressions. Now I read him easily just with a glance at the line of his frame, the set of his jaw or the look in his eye.

And there was something so superbly intimate about this it was hard to take in, the immense beauty of it, the intense feeling of connection with the man you loved. Not only being so attuned to Frey but knowing he was just that attuned to me. It did not make me feel exposed, it made me feel safe, protected, like I belonged somewhere and to someone and, since my parents died, throughout all my roaming, I had not felt either.

It was a beautiful thing to have back, a treasure, the best gift I’d ever received.

For Frey, post-adela tea meant something more. He was the kind of man who was not afraid of showing gentleness and affection but he was also the kind of man who had things to do and he did them. But after our afternoon in his cabin, more often than not he wanted to do these things with me close.

Therefore, his last day aboard, as we stood behind the wheel on the bridge deck, his hands on the spiked handles, me in front of him, we sailed the emerald waters of the Green Sea, our eyes on the horizon. As we did, Frey often bent to speak to me, his mouth at my ear, or, if I had something to say, I turned to him, my mouth at his and we whispered to each other for hours.

It was magnificent, not what we said so much as how we did it.

And I’d learned why he received his salutes from men of fist to chin and from women of chin to neck. The fist to chin was the salute of The Drakkar, a manly salute. The chin to neck was the salute of The Frey, considered a feminine salute. These were his due, as if he was king, and if anyone caught his eye, they were obligated to give it to him.

I’d also learned that he didn’t get these salutes from the people of Houllebec because the first adela tree, the most sacred one in all of Lunwyn, was in the forest close to the village and thus why he had his hunting cabin there and often where he met with the elves. He was there regularly, if not often. Because of this, most of his men had cottages there. And he had long since communicated to the villagers that they did not have to salute. This was something he found tedious for if they saluted, he’d have to return a nod and he did not enjoy walking through the village or having a horn of ale at a pub and constantly needing to meet eyes and tip his chin.

I could totally see that. At the Winter Palace practically everyone bobbed a curtsy to me. I was cool with smiling and saying “hi” but those curtsies felt weird, seeing as I was not born a princess and did not grow up being entitled to them. And acknowledging required more effort than a smile or a passing “hello”. It didn’t actually require it, but it seemed to and I guessed (and shared this with Frey, who concurred) that it was the constant reminder of my responsibilities as princess and the fact that their show of respect was required, not earned, that made it so.

During our talk Frey had asked (and I’d answered) about what Princess Sjofn had shared with me in her letter. We’d also discussed why she did not relate the information that he was The Frey or The Drakkar or various other tidbits that would have been extremely helpful to know such as, say, someone had tried to assassinate her.

Although we discussed this (at length) neither of us came up with an answer and eventually I gently closed the conversation. This was because it was clear Sjofn was not Frey’s favorite person. It was not that he wasn’t pleased with the outcome of her play but because he was seriously displeased that in making it, she committed what was considered an act of treason against the realm and he was not a big fan of how and when she’d maneuvered my entry into their world.

Although it wasn’t for Sjofn, I took this as good news that Frey, Atticus and Aurora all considered Sjofn’s actions an act of treason. First, knowing this, she wouldn’t want to return (for the punishment for treason was hanging which, obviously, anyone would wish to avoid) and second, for this reason, Atticus and Aurora would not want her return. And if she faced that, what it would mean for Lunwyn as a whole for, if hung by the neck until dead, obviously, she could not bear a child who would sit on the throne and assure peace for the land but, instead, political maneuvering (already unpleasant, to say the least, what with daggers and poison involved) would careen out-of-control.

So I took this as good news (for me) because, with all of that, they all would be less likely to want me to go home and more likely to wish me to stay.

Discussing Sjofn led me to thinking (and sharing with Frey) that there were a number of questions and contradictions about her behavior. There were things she did that were thoughtless and selfish and others that were neither. I couldn’t help but think that Frey was wrong about her and this was because she had the devotion of all her maidservants. It was clear Sjofn didn’t think like Frey did about the different classes. They were not her maidservants, they were her friends, her confidants and she was theirs. And I couldn’t imagine my girls caring for a woman who did not deserve their emotion.

I also couldn’t imagine carrying the burden of Sjofn’s responsibility to her country which forced her to hide her sexuality, something innate and so crucial to not only who she was but her happiness.

I could not say I agreed with everything she did but I was not her. I’d never had to hide who I was so didn’t understand these feelings and how she had to be torn between happiness and duty. And not knowing, I could not make a judgment.

When I quietly shared this with Frey, he disagreed. It was clear he felt quite comfortable making a judgment and he did. I left him to his thoughts for, obviously, he was entitled to them.

But I couldn’t help but think, hopefully, in the end, both Sjofn and I would find ourselves high on Valentine’s line of happiness in our different adventures.

“I’m finished, milady,” Skylar called, my thoughts moved back into the room and I turned my head his way.

Then I smiled, uncurled from my corner and walked slowly to him. As I did, Skylar shrank slightly back in the big chair and didn’t quite meet my eyes, something he did normally but something I noticed intensified when he had completed his work and it was time for me to look over it. Therefore, when I arrived, I reached in carefully, took hold of the corner of the paper and moved slowly away, again giving him space.

Then my eyes scanned the paper. In the twenty questions, he’d crossed out two answers but in the end, got them right. In fact, he got all the answers right.

I took another small step back because I intended to speak to him and he seemed more comfortable with distance when I did.

“Not a single mistake, Skylar,” I said gently, “you’re learning this extremely quickly. Tomorrow, I’ll have to make them a bit more difficult.”

I had hoped he would blossom under the quiet praise but the mention of the questions becoming more difficult made a flash of fear fire in his eyes.

Therefore, I rushed to assure him, “Not that much more difficult, honey. We’ll take it slow. No worries.”

He bit his lip and nodded, looking no less worried.

I pulled in a breath. Frey had advised me not to give into my instinct to protect him by responding to his uneasiness and fear by releasing him from the cause, namely me. Frey had said that Skylar couldn’t get used to me if I let him scurry away but that I would need to be around for him actually to get used to me.

This was, of course, wise.

It was also really hard.

So instead of seeing that fear in his eyes, his teeth sinking into his lip anxiously and giving into my instinct of cutting our lesson short and letting him off the hook, I decided to move forward and work with him on his letters.

“All right, Skylar,” I said softly, taking a step toward him, “we’re going to move on. You’ve got the alphabet down pat so now we’ll work on putting it together to make some –”

I stopped speaking when the door opened suddenly.

Skylar’s eyes shot to it and so did mine.

And when they did, I saw Kell barging in.

He looked to Skylar at Frey’s desk then me then he announced in his gruff voice, “We got a problem.”

My heart skipped.

He didn’t look happy, as in, way more than his usual unhappy when he was looking at me so I was thinking this problem was a problem.

“Out, boy,” Kell barked at Skylar, Skylar jumped up and took off.

He closed the door behind him and Kell’s gaze came to me.

My eyes had not left him and my fingertips were on the desk, pressing in, seeking support hopefully without looking like I was.

“Frey?” I asked quietly and Kell’s bushy white brows shot together.

“What?” he barked.

“Frey,” I repeated, turning more fully to him and stiffening my spine. “Have you heard some word? Are Frey and the men all right?”

“Gods, woman, a’ course they are. Stealin’ a branch from a poof? Bloody hell,” he replied and I decided that I would not share my thoughts on him calling homosexuals “poofs” but I even if I wished to do so, I didn’t get the chance because Kell kept speaking. “We got riders at the shore. They hold Baldur banners.”

Oh shit.

Kell went on. “They’re flashin’ a sun message. Bloody Baldur knows you’re here, he’s camped close and he wants you and Frey to attend him.”

Oh shit!

“A sun message?” I asked.

“Sun,” he grunted. “Mirror. Message.”

That was all he said but I put two and two together and figured that the riders were flashing a mirror at the sun in some way that the men on the ship could read.

And that message was, my uncle… who was not my uncle… wanted me and my husband… who was not here but instead on a clandestine mission to steal property from Middleland soil some weeks after, of course, he and his men had helped the king’s captive sorceress (and forced mistress) to escape… to come and see him.

This was not good.

“I’m guessin’ from that look on yer face you’re readin’ this situation as not good,” Kell accurately deduced then without a breath continued. “We’re exposed. Until nightfall, without them seein’, we can’t get a man to shore to get a message to Frey. And, we got a command from a king on our hands, one we cannot defy without good reason and we got ourselves a couple a’ those, but none of ‘em are ones we can share. And Baldur is not the kind ‘a king who’s big on bein’ defied. Not to mention, we send you in, you got no idea who this blighter is.”

By the way, Kell, like all of Frey’s closest men, knew who I was and where I’d come from.

“Thanks for summing that up, Kell,” I said softly and his eyes narrowed.

Then he stated, “I ain’t here to sum it up, princess, I’m here ‘cause I’m plum outta ideas and wondered if you got some. The king’s men cannot board this ship.”

“Why?” I asked and he gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher because I didn’t know Kell all that well but I had a feeling there was something on the ship the king’s men couldn’t see.

Shit!

Thinking fast, I suggested, “Can you send a message that I’m indisposed, um… not well and ask the king to wait until tomorrow when I’ll hopefully feel better? That way we’ll have time to make up a story and form a plan.”

He crossed his arms on his chest and his irritated impatient look got more irritated and impatient.

“Tried that. They told us to send a boat ashore anyway as the king’s concerned about his niece and wants to send his men across to board in order to ascertain she’s all right.”

I blinked then asked, “How long have they been out there?”

“Over an hour.”

I blinked again and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

He uncrossed his arms and planted his fists on his hips and asked back, “And why would I do that?”

I put my hands to my hips too and shot back, “Oh, I don’t know, Kell. Probably so I’d have more time to consider this dilemma and maybe come up with an answer rather than receiving the news there was a dilemma at the last possible moment so my only choice is to freak out and make a rushed decision about what the heck we’re going to do. Jeez, two heads are better than one,” I ended on an annoyed snap.

“Not when one ‘a those heads belongs to a woman,” Kell fired back.

Oh no he did not.

I glared at him.

Then I ordered, “Prepare a boat and pick men you trust to accompany me but the party must include Gunner and Stephan.”

It was his turn to blink. Then he breathed out a, “What?” that clearly stated he thought I was insane.

“Prepare a boat and pick men you trust to accompany me,” I repeated.

“Woman –” Kell started but I interrupted him.

“Kell, we have a demand from a king. We’re in his waters and my husband is in his country doing something he will probably not like. Frey is not set to return for days.” I leaned forward and reminded him, “We need to buy time and the only one who can do that is me.”

“Princess, that man has known the other you since she was a baby and you have never seen him in your life,” he reminded me back.

I threw out a hand and declared, “I’ll wing it.”

His brows shot together again and he grunted, “Wing it?”

“Make it up as I go along, wing it. Now send a message that I’m rousing myself for the journey, prepare a boat and select men you trust to accompany me.”

He didn’t move. He scowled.

Then he announced, “Drakkar is not gonna like this, woman.”

I didn’t figure he would. Then again, I figured he’d come to understand I had no choice.

With any luck.

“I’ll deal with that later.”

“Hopefully it won’t be much later, say, he already knows what’s happenin’, he’s makin’ his play and that play is abducting you, incarceratin’ your rounded arse in one ‘a his castles and sendin’ word to your father that he ain’t real happy his niece and nephew-in-law are runnin’ amok in his kingdom. Somethin’, by the by, your papa don’t know balls about.”

Hmm.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” I decided.

Kell scowled at me some more but still didn’t move.

“Kell, time is wasting,” I reminded him.

He ignored me and continued to scowl at me. Then something shifted on his face, the scowl was still there, just not as severe and something had lit in his eyes.

I didn’t have time to decipher it. I had no time at all and I needed to get changed before all this went down. I wasn’t wearing breeches to this meeting. I was meeting my uncle, king to princess, and I needed an outfit that would remind him of that.

So I prompted, somewhat loudly, “Kell!”

That was when he muttered, “He said you had the spirit.”

“What?” I asked impatiently and Kell’s unfocused eyes focused on me.

“Nothin’,” he grunted. “I’ll send the message, prepare the boat and gather the men.” He lifted a finger and jabbed it at me. “But, woman, I’m gonna be one ‘a those men. You stay close to me, you pay attention to me and you learn real quick to read me. We got no choice, you and me, but to get through this bloody mess together. Don’t go goin’ princess on me and don’t go goin’ cockamamie on me. Yeah?”

My shoulders straightened in umbrage and I declared, “I’m never cockamamie.”

“Woman, you transported yourself to a whole ‘nother world not knowin’ where your arse would land or what it would land in. Most women got at least some cockamamie in ‘em but you are head-to-toe cockamamie,” he returned.

That was arguable but I didn’t have time to argue it now.

“Kell, time is wasting,” I reminded him and the scowl shot back to severe.

Then he burst out, “Balls, I see it in yer eyes. You’re gonna go cockamamie on me.”

“Kell!” I snapped loudly.

“All right, all right, smooth your knickers, princess,” he said, hands up but pressing down. “You got an hour then your arse is on deck.”

“Right,” I replied.

He sucked in breath and seared me with another scowl. Then he shook his head and exited the cabin, slamming the door behind him simply, I guessed, because he was a curmudgeon and didn’t want me to forget it.

I stared at the door and, with that confrontation over, the coming one loomed in front of me.

I had two choices, freak out or get my shit sorted.

I rushed to my trunks to get my shit sorted.

* * * * *

First off, it was clear we’d travelled far enough south that Middleland, unlike Lunwyn, was not charmingly crusted with ice and snow. I’d noticed that from viewing shore from the ship and I’d definitely noticed the air was warmer, not well above freezing but not below it.

As Kell, myself, Gunner, Stephan and three of Frey’s crew acting as impromptu royal guards made our way to my uncle’s camp on horses provided for us, I also noticed that Middleland wasn’t that charming at all. It wasn’t exactly barren but it also wasn’t colorful or overly fertile. It seemed bleak, craggy and dark and although the days were longer, that wasn’t exactly a boon because Middleland would probably look better in the moonlight.

Seeing it, I thought that perhaps Sjofn’s grandfather had a favorite son after all for Atticus definitely got the better deal when his father was doling out kingdoms.

Once we’d navigated the dark rocks that made up the shore and spread inland, it didn’t take long for the tents to come into view. The sun was beginning to set but I could see they were striped wide in red and black. They were large, there were several of them, they each had a number of peaks and all of these peaks had red and black checked pennants flying.

We were escorted by the king’s men of which there were twelve (my opinion only, but I thought this was overkill). They all were wearing amour breastplates with black and red dragons painted on them, high black boots that came up to their thighs, poofy black shorts and they also had red and black striped poofs of material around their shoulders but their biceps and forearms were covered solely in black. On their heads they had gleaming helmets with a Mohawk arrangement of stiff black and red feathers. All their weapons (swords on scabbards attached to their saddles and a knife at their belts) shone as if they’d never been used.

I read from their number and attire that Baldur liked pomp and circumstance. Frey’s men wore what they wore; there was no uniform of The Drakkar or even of his merchant ships. My father’s men wore a uniform but it was warm, sturdy, comfortable and utilitarian. All the heads of the Houses I’d met at the Gales had worn their colors proudly but they let their wives display the finery that indicated their wealth. The men’s clothes were excellent quality and there were touches that indicated affluence but none of them were overt about it.

This pageantry to meet your niece in a tent on a desolate plain seemed a bit much and said a great deal about my uncle.

His men led us straight to the biggest tent and when I say that I mean it was the biggest tent by far, at least double the size of any other, maybe more, and as large as a small house. The entryway had a ten foot long awning stretching out from it along which four guards stood. It was clear these guards were more important for their feathers in their helmets were bigger and each had a ruby in the hilt of the daggers on their belts.

Immediately upon arrival, there was a wee situation when we stopped and Gunner (most of the men I knew well were with Frey, however he’d left Gunner and Stephan behind, likely in case something like this occurred) dismounted instantly and came to help me off my horse. Unfortunately, one of Baldur’s men did the same and Gunner didn’t take kindly to this.

As glowers were exchanged and chests puffed up, an idea hit me and I was both thankful that it did because I’d been wracking my brain since Kell left the cabin as to what I intended to do (to no avail) and also I hoped I could pull it off.

“Please,” I fake rasped and it sounded so good even I was surprised at how real it sounded. I saw instantly so was Gunner who knew I didn’t have a sore throat. It also surprised the guard and Kell who’d stopped his horse close to mine and I felt his eyes come to me. “I am comfortable with my guard. If you will allow…” I kept rasping then trailed off, grimaced in fake pain and wrapped one of my hands daintily around my throat as if those mere words had caused me more than mild suffering.

The guard looked at me and his face softened. I smiled what I hoped was a benevolent princess smile on him, his lips tipped up and I figured I’d pulled off the princess smile. He gave a small bow then stepped back gallantly. Gunner reached up and pulled me down but he did it so my face stayed parallel to his for the barest second and I saw his blue eyes smile.

I didn’t smile back because his back was to the guard and mine wasn’t but I rolled my eyes the barest bit. Then he set me on my feet and I leaned into him like I didn’t have the strength to hold myself up. He took his cue and hooked my arm firmly in the crook of his elbow before he escorted me to the awning where Kell joined me on my other side. I grabbed onto him too (might as well go for the gusto) and they led me through the awning and inside the tent.

If I thought the tents, pennants and uniformed soldiers were a spectacle, they were nothing compared to the opulence I encountered inside. I tried not to look as surprised as I was at the overabundance of fur (the ground was covered in it, yes, covered), sheets of red and black silk draping the walls, the ornate, heavily carved, shining wood furniture, the gleaming silver candelabrum all over the place and the two, large, overdone thrones (yes, thrones) sitting smack in the middle of the tent on a fur-covered rise.

Holy moly.

One could say I was not averse to luxury and indulged in it frequently but this was way over the top.

There were more guards inside (eight to be exact) and the feathers in their helmets were even bigger and they had elaborate jaw and chin guards wrapped around the lower half of their faces.

And sitting on the thrones (one much grander than the other) were two men.

On the bigger one was a graying, jowly man with a large belly and a larger gold crown on his head. This was decorated with black fur and inset with rubies and diamonds. He wore his own poofy shorts, these striped in black and red and also a breastplate painted with a dragon but it looked funny considering it had to be made with a bulge to cover his big belly. Hilariously (I thought), at his booted foot there was a helmet with a huge spray of red and black feathers shooting straight out of the top, this I read as his indication that he was battle ready at all times when he was, clearly, not.

But as amusing as this was, I didn’t find him humorous because his eyes were directed right at me and I saw at once they were mean.

At his side sat a very handsome, much younger man not wearing a breastplate, poofy shorts or even a crown but black breeches, shined black boots, a red poofy-sleeved shirt with laces at the collar and a black, brocade vest. His ensemble, even with the red poofy shirt, was understated but elegant.

My uncle and cousin.

And, by the way, my uncle, clearly, was not an identical twin with Father.

There was a man standing to the right and behind Prince Broderick’s chair and he, too, was dressed like Broderick but his shirt was pristine white and he had a thin scarf with a silk fringe wrapped jauntily around his neck.

A not-so-wild guess (considering the scarf), the lover, Phobin.

I let Kell and Gunner go and dropped to a low, formal curtsy which was my guess at what he would expect regardless that he thought we shared blood and royal status.

“Rise, my niece,” I heard him command in a voice as pompous as his surroundings and I did what I was told.

Then I hoped to all that was holy that I read even the slightest hint of Sjofn’s feelings for these two in her letters and I smiled dutifully at her uncle but far more warmly at her cousin.

Baldur inclined his head.

Broderick smiled warmly back.

Okay.

Phew.

That seemed to go well.

“Come, my dear, embrace your brethren,” Baldur ordered, I looked back at him, saw he had his hands to the arms of his throne, appearing like he was preparing to shift his bulk from the chair and I lifted a fluttering hand to my throat.

“If it pleases you, your grace,” I rasped harshly and saw Baldur blink before his brows drew together and he sat back, “for your welfare, I will not.” I pushed out, moved my hand from my throat to my mouth, coughed roughly yet delicately (yep, I pulled that off and was pretty freaking proud of myself doing it), dropped my hand and finished, “I’ve caught a chill in my throat and I do not wish you to catch it.”

“Yer grace,” Kell cut in and I turned to him to see he was still bent low, eyes to the furs at our feet, “if we could have your leave to get our princess a chair. She’s unwell and don’t have a lot ‘a energy.”

“See to a chair for Princess Sjofn, Phobin,” Baldur ordered, the face of the man behind Broderick grew slightly hard at being ordered about then he moved off toward some furniture sitting at the side of the tent.

The good news was, Phobin and Broderick were here so they weren’t wherever Frey was.

The other good news was, so far, I was pulling this off and Kell had fallen in with the plan.

And luckily, there was no bad news.

Yet.

“Guard of Sjofn, you may also rise,” Baldur muttered distractedly and I looked to my left to see Gunner had, as well, been bowed to this king all this time.

What a dick, leaving them like that. It wasn’t like it was hours but still.

I shook off this irritation as Phobin brought me a chair. I smiled at him then collapsed in it pretending to pretend I was not actually collapsing in it but regally taking a very needed load off my princess feet.

When I was settled, Gunner and Kell took their places, Gunner at my left back and Kell at the right.

“If you are so unwell, niece, why did you make the journey? My men could easily have attended you on your husband’s vessel,” Baldur made a good point and I looked at him.

Shit. This was true.

I thought fast.

Then I rasped, “You are my father’s brother but you are also king.” He winced at my voice with the addition of a curled lip to show his distaste, the latter of which I didn’t like all that much. I mean, I wasn’t actually sick but he didn’t know that and no one could help being sick. “It is my duty to attend you,” I concluded.

“That is my sweet Sjofn,” Broderick said softly in a lovely, deep, gentle voice and my eyes went to him to see his were soft and warm on me. “Always putting duty above self.”

Well, not always.

I obviously didn’t mention this but tipped my head to the side and smiled at him.

“And your new husband?” Baldur asked, I looked back at him and opened my mouth to speak.

“Inland,” Kell grunted before I could say anything, Baldur’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and they shot to Kell.

“Did I give you leave to speak for my niece?” he demanded to know.

“You didn’t, father, but you should,” Broderick stated firmly but softly. “It’s clear Sjofn experiences pain every time she does.”

Baldur sniffed to communicate he acceded this point then addressed Kell. “And what does your master do inland?”

Ho boy. I wasn’t certain Kell would like Frey being referred to as his master.

Kell, however, didn’t miss a beat but he also didn’t share masses of information.

“His wife is unwell.”

“I can hear that. And?” Baldur demanded.

“She caught a chill not long after we set sail. Not bad at first but it got worse. Laid up in bed, soundin’ funny and sick as a dog. None of the medicine we got onboard was doin’ her any good, The Drakkar set anchor and came ashore to go inland, find a doctor, get her somethin’ to help her so we can be on our way and she’ll quit sufferin’.”

“And you’re on your way to where?” Baldur asked.

“Chateau in Hawkvale. They got a baby to make,” Kell answered. “The Drakkar likes seein’ to that particular duty and didn’t want any distractions.”

I sighed heavily mainly because I would normally sigh heavily at Kell’s highly personal answer but also because I figured Sjofn would sigh heavily at Kell’s highly personal answer.

Baldur stared at Kell with distaste. My eyes slid to Broderick to see his on me and they were twinkling. He thought that was funny and I could tell by the way he was looking at me Sjofn would share in his humor so I gave him a little shrug and a small smile and his twinkle got brighter.

“Seems to me The Drakkar could send a man inland to find medicine for his wife so he could stay aboard and tend her,” Baldur noted and my eyes went back to him.

“And seems to me you don’t know my master much, I’m guessin’. Errand’s important, he don’t send no one to do it. The man does it himself,” Kell replied, Baldur straightened in his chair, obviously not liking Kell’s tone.

“Indeed,” Baldur murmured, scowling at Kell.

“He’s being very kind,” I put in, still rasping, I lifted my hand delicately to my throat as Baldur’s attention went from his angry contemplation of Kell to me. “I told him I would be all right, given time. But he’s concerned.”

“Taken with her, he is,” Kell added. “Don’t like to see her sufferin’ and also don’t like not gettin’ his husbandly privileges ‘cause she’s sufferin’, if you take my meanin’, yer grace.”

“I do indeed,” Baldur sniffed through a lip curl which, as much as I didn’t like this guy, I had to admit was pretty good, “take your meaning, my dear sir.”

“I’m pleased to hear this, Sjofn,” Broderick said quietly and I looked to him. “That The Drakkar has taken to you. This is lovely news.”

I smiled at him, he smiled back and it wasn’t understanding, like he knew Sjofn’s secret and felt for her; it was genuine, like he was truly pleased her arranged marriage was working out.

“We suit,” I whispered, taking the rasp down a notch because I was whispering but also saying it with feeling because it was true.

“I’m pleased to hear this too, cousin,” Broderick replied on another sincere smile and I smiled back.

“Well, I cannot say this comes as a surprise,” Baldur declared and I looked to him. “He practically dragged you from the Dwelling of the Gods. Vulgar, most assuredly, but telling.” He smiled at me, it was definitely not genuine, and finished, “But who would not be taken with Lunwyn’s Winter Princess, far and away the fairest beauty in that frigid land?”

I wasn’t all that hot on him calling Lunwyn frigid. It was, of course, frigid, strictly speaking, but there were nicer words to use.

It was then there seemed to be some commotion outside. The guards inside went on alert, four closing in on their king and two immediately going out the tent opening.

I turned in my chair, peering around Kell to see what was happening and didn’t have to wait long when one of the guards rushed back in, bowed and said to the furs, “The Drakkar is here.”

Uh-oh.

My eyes shot upwards, caught Kell’s and I saw his mouth surrounded by his bushy, white beard was tight.

Shit.

Then I leaned around again to look beyond Kell to see Frey, followed by Thad, Orion, Max, Annar, Lund and Oleg striding purposefully into the tent and Frey was looking pretty freaking displeased.

Uh-oh again.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded to know before he got five feet into the huge tent and I rose quickly, intent to move to him and find some way to give him a head’s up regarding what was afoot.

“You don’t bow to the king of the land whose soil your boots tread upon?” Baldur asked and he sounded pissed too, pissed and full of outraged affront.

Frey halted beside Kell, bowed shallow and swift, not bothering to wait for his command to rise. I got close to him, putting my hands on his chest, I pressed in as hard as I could and tipped my head back.

Then I rasped, deeper and far more harshly, “Husband, it is my duty to attend a king when called upon to do so.”

Frey’s brows shot together and his head jerked down to look at me the instant the first word came out of my throat.

“You get that medicine you were after, master?” Kell asked casually and Frey tore his eyes from me to look at Kell.

Then, cottoning on quickly, as was his way, he clipped, “No. I heard word the king’s men were at shore and, hearing that, I was certain he would call on my bride so I abandoned the search and returned instantly.” His eyes moved to Baldur as his arm moved to circle my waist and he pulled my front close to his. “And I was not wrong, the king called upon my bride.”

“Of course,” Baldur stated. “She is my niece which means you are now my nephew and the moment I heard your ship was anchored offshore, we rode to extend familial greetings.”

Frey’s jaw went hard.

Then he returned, “That is kind, your grace, but if we were in Middleland for an official visit, rather than to run a swift errand, we would have sent word and come to you to extend our familial greetings. Now my wife, who should be abed, is out in the cold.” He looked at Kell. “Did you not inform his grace that Finnie was ill?”

“Finnie?” Broderick whispered but Kell spoke over him.

“Sure did, master,” Kell answered and I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing. “He said he’d send men aboard to attend her but she wasn’t hearin’ none of it. Said it was her duty and so on.” He flipped out a hand which eloquently (or as eloquent as Kell could be) said what he felt about royal duty. “So she dragged her carcass outta bed, got all tarted up and here we are.”

At that, I had to press my lips together harder. I caught a look at Thad as he was standing at Frey’s back right and I saw his jaw clench. It made him look annoyed but my guess was Thad thought Kell was pretty amusing too.

“My wife informed you she was ill and you sent word you intended to disturb her in her rest by sending men to my ship if she didn’t attend you?” Frey asked, his voice low and rumbling and unmistakably infuriated.

“It didn’t happen exactly like that, Drakkar,” Baldur stated.

“Then maybe you’ll explain exactly how it happened,” Frey mock-suggested. That was to say, it wasn’t a suggestion at all.

“It hardly takes two days to seek medicine, which is at least the amount of time you’ve been anchored off Middlelandian shore,” Baldur shot back and I tensed as he shared this information.

“Perhaps you don’t know your niece very well, your grace, she dislikes being ill, refused to admit she was and has an aversion to being tended. It took me that long to convince her I should go,” Frey totally lied.

“This is true, Father, Sjofn has always been a poor patient, as you know when she caught flu during that visit when she was sixteen,” Broderick put in smoothly then smiled at me. “Remember, cousin, I had to resort to sneaking medicine in your tea.”

“I remember,” I rasped softly on a returned smile, thinking I quite liked Broderick. He seemed very sweet.

Baldur puffed his chest up and ignored our exchange. “Well then, seeing your proximity to our shore, you were here two days, you should have sent a missive. It is, as you well know, my due as king.”

“My apologies, your grace, and I hope you don’t find it offensive when I remind you we did not expect to be at your shore this long and I was dealing with a headstrong, unwell bride. My attention was taken by her, not sending a meaningless message, the effort of which would be a ridiculous waste of time for one of my men,” Frey returned.

“See here,” Baldur said quietly, now his voice was rumbling, “I’ll remind you again whose soil your boots rest on.”

“And I’ll remind you that my wife is clearly not well and the curiosity and mistrust, the latter of which is unearned, I will add,” Frey impressively lied through his teeth, “that were the true reasons you are here with tents and thrones,” he said this with disgust, “has delayed me on the errand of seeing to her health.”

“Careful, Drakkar, you don’t have leave to speak to this king the way you do my brother. The elves don’t leave the snow and you can’t call the dragons from this far,” Baldur retorted.

“Care to test that?” Frey returned.

Ho boy.

Time to intervene.

Pronto.

“Oh dear,” I whispered on my rasp and lifted a hand to my head, turning in the circle of Frey’s arm toward Sjofn’s uncle. “Do you, in all these tents, have someplace I can lie down, uncle? I’m feeling lightheaded.”

At my words, I was instantly swept up in Frey’s arms and held close to his chest.

“You’ll rest in our cabin,” Frey gritted then his eyes snapped to Baldur. “If I may have your leave to see to my wife?”

“Of course,” Broderick answered for his father. “And to save you the trouble, I’ll send to my personal physician for some medicine. It may take until morning but we’ll message you the moment it arrives so you can send a boat to retrieve it. That way, you can attend your…” he hesitated, his eyes came to me and they were warm because he clearly mistook the reason Frey had used the name he called me, and liked it, before he finished, “Finnie.”

“My thanks, Broderick, but do not go to that trouble. We’ll be on our way,” Frey stated, jerked his head at Baldur, turned on his boot and stalked out of the tent.

For my part, I’d wrapped my arms around Frey’s shoulders and I looked over the right one and smiled regally (I hoped) at father and son, seeing the king looked fit to be tied but Broderick was smiling so big he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

Yeah, I definitely liked Broderick.

Then I saw them no more as we were out of the tent, I was on a horse, Frey swung up behind me, leaned into me, dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and barked, “Yah!” and we were galloping away.

After a few minutes, I felt it was safe to speak.

So I did, starting with, “Frey –”

I was wrong about it being safe to speak.

I knew this when Frey growled, “Quiet, Finnie, we’ll wait until I have you and Kell sitting down so you can explain to me which one of you had the spectacularly stupid idea to go it alone with minimal guard, only two of whom are trained, and without me, to attend a man who might want you dead.”

Ho boy.

I got quiet as ordered, thinking it was my best bet at that juncture and watched the sea, Frey’s beautiful galleon drifting on it with the sun setting behind it, coming closer.