Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Aevar trailed behind his father and older brothers, their boots crunching on the rocky soil as they strode away from the prying ears of the Essians.
Kian stayed by his side, as usual. No one spoke, but Aevar sensed their thoughts turning, the tension rising like the bite of northern wind.
Had they been alone, he might’ve wagered with Kian how long it would take before someone admitted what they were all thinking.
“That was surprising,” Kian said, his Talt accent still thick despite his years in Nordra. “I didn’t think they’d have the guts to offer a marriage alliance.”
No doubt he felt the brewing uncertainty just as keenly.
The silence remained heavy until they reached the river’s edge. Here, all eyes went to their father, who stared out across the water toward Nordra before he turned to them.
“What do you think?” Erik asked. As the eldest, he usually spoke first.
Aevar crossed his arms. Would their father address the obvious or circle around it?
“I think the king is weak and grasping for any alliance he can.” Fathir leveled the pavilion with a stern glance.
So, a roundabout approach then. Aevar kept his silence.
Erik considered it. “She hasn’t even spoken, but the princess seems to have a lot of influence with the king.”
“Yes,” Fathir muttered, “he hardly speaks a word without seeking her approval. I don’t know if that is to our advantage or that we’d be fools to align ourselves with a king who does not know his own mind. A little of both, I fear.”
“You’d think they would have sought a stronger union by the king asking for a bride instead of offering his sister.”
Braan snorted, scratching the scar around his eye. “Maybe he’s too much of a coward to take a Nord wife.”
“Perhaps he would have if we had a sister to offer. At least this way none of us has to leave Nordra.” Erik paused for a moment of loud silence. The final buildup to the real issue. “The question is…who will marry the princess?”
Aevar almost rolled his eyes. “There is no question. It has to be me.”
Erik’s attention snapped to him, that familiar protective edge igniting. “Hold on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s still up for discussion.”
Braan raised his brows, and his mouth tightened as if biting back a response.
As much as Aevar appreciated Erik’s care, they were adults, and it was time they stopped treating him like he was glass, regardless of the past. “What is there to discuss? You’re married, and Braan is betrothed.
I’m the only one left.” He turned to their father.
“Surely you won’t ask Braan to give up Heida. ”
Kian snorted. “Oh, she’d have a thing or two to say about that.”
Aevar met his father’s gaze. There it was again, that flash of protectiveness. The hesitation. But the truth was already on the table.
Fathir sighed as if in defeat. “You’re right, I’m afraid. You’re the only one who can do this. That makes the choice yours and yours alone. I won’t force you into a marriage. I’d sooner send the boy king back home to sort out his mess on his own. We do not need their alliance.”
Aevar let the words hang there as he stared out over the river. Marriage had been the furthest thing from his mind when they set foot in Essix. The last thing he’d been looking for.
He caught Erik watching him.
“Fathir is right. You don’t have to do this. We can still discuss the alliance without marriage…” Erik glanced at their father. “Though I’d be less inclined to trust them without such an arrangement.”
He, too, was right. The Essians couldn’t be trusted, but they were not without their uses.
“The trade agreement would serve us well,” Aevar reasoned.
“More grain would ensure we do not struggle this winter, especially the northern clans. There is still plenty of rich land in Waelon and farther south to raid. Leaving Essix untouched will not hurt us. And if we’re aligned with both Talta and Essix, it would reinforce our truce with Kalgora.
They’d be foolish to attack while we have the backing of two other kingdoms.” He motioned to Kian.
“Would your uncle honor an alliance with Essix?”
Kian nodded. “Talta has no quarrel with Essix unless they make one. My uncle would likely even march alongside you to save their sorry backsides from Waelon should it come to that.”
They might not like or trust the Essians, but a three-way alliance was much more appealing than the possible alternative.
Aevar focused once more on his father. “I know we do not need this alliance, but if what they say is true and Waelon invades, it might become our problem. If Waelon took over Essix and aligned with Camria against us, we could face a war on both our southern and northern fronts. You know Kalgora will break the truce the moment they see an advantage.”
Fathir’s expression darkened. “This is true.”
There was no other choice then. “I’ll do it.”
Fathir stepped forward, placing a weathered hand on Aevar’s shoulder. His firm grip instilled in him a sense of courage, like when he was a boy. “Are you sure?”
Unspoken grief hung between them. They all knew why he was the last one this duty should fall to. Yet perhaps it was also the very reason it should. He’d already had his chance at love and lost it. He had no expectation or desire to find it again. The least he could do now was aid his people.
“Yes. I will marry her.”
His father’s face softened, the edges of his resolve easing into reluctant acceptance. “Very well. We’ll accept the marriage if their other terms are agreeable.”
He eyed their camp set up in the grass that was still matted and brown from the recently departed snow.
“I do not wish to linger here. We have the Gathering to prepare for. I will ask that the marriage take place tomorrow morning. That gives us time to break camp and cover some ground before sundown. The sooner we return to Fjellheim, the longer the princess has to adjust before the jarls arrive.”
“Do you think they’ll agree to such a swift union?” Not that it mattered to Aevar. He’d already accepted the marriage. Best not let it drag out. “It won’t be time for a traditional ceremony, and I’m sure none of us have brought enough for any sort of usual payment exchange.”
“If they are as desperate as I believe they are, they’ll agree. It doesn’t need to be traditional as long as it’s binding. It’s alliance agreements we’re bargaining over.”
At its core, this marriage was nothing more than a contract between Nordra and Essix.
“You know Staegar won’t like it,” Erik said, his voice low with warning. “He’ll no doubt stir up trouble at the Gathering.”
Fathir waved a dismissive hand. “Staegar doesn’t like anything I do.
He’s welcome to challenge me again if he wants.
Halbjorn and Gorum already support whatever I decide.
The rest will follow them, especially when their storehouses are well-stocked this winter.
This is another reason to have Aevar and the princess married immediately.
It will be harder for Staegar to reverse an alliance than to stop it from happening. ”
Erik looked between them. “Well then, let’s make sure this is an alliance worth fighting for.”
Fathir clapped his shoulder.
Together, they walked toward the pavilion where Aevar’s bride waited. He ignored the twinge in his gut at that thought. There were worse fates than marrying a stranger. A war that threatened his home and family was one of them.
“So…does this mean I’m your best man?”
Kian wore the impish smile he typically employed to draw Aevar out of a brooding mood. Under different circumstances, Erik would have had the honor of being best man, but nothing about this was normal.
“I suppose.”
Kian grinned and leaned closer as they approached the tent. “If nothing else, at least she’s easy on the eyes.”
Trust him to make light of the situation.
Still, he wasn’t wrong. The princess was lovely.
For a foreigner. But she was the complete opposite of the fair-haired beauty that still haunted Aevar’s dreams and never let his wounded heart fully heal.
Maybe that was for the best. Then she would not remind him of what he’d lost.
Before he could dwell on the past, his father’s voice scattered the memories. “Let’s see what this king is made of, shall we?”
“They’re returning.”
Eadlyn lifted her head from prayer at Galen’s grim announcement.
The Nords were halfway across the field, marching toward the pavilion.
She pushed to her feet to stand beside Edward and Oswin, who had been discussing the alliance terms should the Nords agree.
She swallowed hard, though her throat remained bone dry.
It would have been wise to fill a cup of water while she waited, but she was afraid it would have trembled right out of her hand or refused to stay down.
She clenched her fingers to still the shakes.
Why did it feel as though she were on her way to the gallows?
She forced a mask of composure into place as the Nord party reached the edge of the pavilion. Though she tried to read Jarl Runar’s expression, it remained as impenetrable as before. This waiting wore on her. As much as she feared the verdict, she wanted to know her fate.
The jarl gave her a fleeting glance before focusing on Edward. “We have decided to accept your proposal of a marriage alliance, provided we agree with the remaining terms.”
For one suspended heartbeat, Eadlyn’s chest swelled with thankfulness while her stomach plunged like a stone. Essix would be saved, but her fate lay elsewhere.
“I am pleased to hear it,” Edward responded, though the words were stilted. He cleared his throat, visibly collecting himself. “Have any of your sons accompanied you?”
Eadlyn’s breath caught as she darted a glance at the two warriors who had flanked Runar during their earlier discussion. Which of them might she be joined to for the rest of her life?