Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Aevar lit the lamp, its glow spilling across the room as he turned toward the bed.
Eadlyn lay still beneath the blanket, her eyes closed, and her face soft in sleep.
He watched her for a long moment. His feelings for her had grown in the last few days, faster than he was ready for.
It scared him. But he kept choosing to stay the course.
If he pulled back now and didn’t show her how he felt, she’d never trust him again.
A lock of hair lay across her shoulder, and he found himself reaching for it.
He paused but gave in to the desire that had lingered within him since their wedding day and brushed it aside.
Soft as silk, just as he’d imagined. He let his fingers rest on her shoulder and traced his thumb over the curve of it.
She stirred beneath his touch, and he said her name. Her eyes blinked open, slow and unfazed. She didn’t startle anymore. A sign, he hoped, that she felt safe here now.
“Góthan morgin,” he murmured.
She echoed him in sleepy Nordric, and he smiled at the way she formed the sounds. She was getting better at it. He withdrew his hand, but the warmth of her skin stayed with him. As she yawned and sat up, he left the room as was their routine.
When she joined the family a little while later, she wore a pale cream dress and green apron.
She’d left her hair long and loose, tempting him more than ever to run his fingers through it.
Ranvi had been braiding it for her in the mornings.
She took her seat, and Ranvi joined her, fingers weaving the strands.
Katla climbed onto the bench beside them, pointing and chattering as Ranvi worked in beads and tiny ornaments.
Eadlyn listened patiently, smiling as the little girl spoke.
Aevar didn’t realize how long he’d been watching until someone bumped his arm. He whipped his head around to find Kian beside him, grinning like an idiot.
“Enjoying the view?”
Aevar shoved him away. “Quiet.”
Kian chuckled, undeterred. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Aevar ignored him as he turned back to watch Ranvi finish the braid.
After breakfast, Aevar and Eadlyn left the longhouse for their morning walk.
This was fast becoming Aevar’s favorite part of the day.
They spoke more now, sharing about their childhoods and lives before the alliance.
But the more she revealed of her past, especially her father, the deeper Aevar’s anger burrowed.
The man had stolen so much from her. Dying in a drunken stupor, while not an honorable or glorious death, had been far too merciful a punishment.
He’d deserved to suffer more. Especially since it sounded like Eadlyn had been more prisoner than princess before his death.
He hoped she did not feel that way now. She’d given up her home, her brother, and her friends to come here. Had there been more?
“Did you have any suitors? Anyone you left behind because of the alliance?”
Eadlyn smiled, though a sad sort of one. “None who saw me as anything more than a political advantage. My father made personal connections difficult.”
A complicated mix of relief and sadness warred in Aevar’s chest that she’d never had that connection before, but something in her expression shifted, wistful and faraway.
“There was this one ealdorman’s son. I met him when I was thirteen and was smitten.
I used to imagine him rescuing me from the palace.
” Her expression changed to something more of amusement and old embarrassment.
“He married not long after. I was heartbroken. However, when I saw him again a few years later, I realized what he possessed in outward appeal he sorely lacked in character.”
Aevar sent her a playful grin. “So no lingering torch for the dashing ealdorman’s son?”
She blinked as if caught off guard by his teasing, but another slow smile pulled at her lips. “Not even a flicker.”
Down at the fjord, they fell into silence.
Eadlyn often prayed here, quiet and contemplative, her face turned toward the breeze.
Aevar let the stillness stretch between them, watching her take in the view, peace softening her features.
He’d have to bring her out on the boats someday. But first, he should teach her to swim.
After a time, she asked, “How far are we from Staegar’s village?”
He moved beside her, following her gaze toward the far distance where the fjord disappeared around a bend.
A dip in the cliffs marked the beginning of a valley where Staegar dwelt.
“He has outbuildings for trade and shipbuilding at the shore too far to see from here. Ormvik, his main settlement, is a couple of miles inland.”
She rubbed her arms, unease creeping across her face. Aevar stepped closer, tempted to reach out in reassurance, but he held back.
“You don’t have to worry about Sig. He would be a fool to come back. It does not matter who he is, the consequences would be severe, and the whole village knows to be on the lookout.”
And if he did return, Aevar would kill him.
Eadlyn’s shoulders relaxed a little.
Wanting to lift the weight entirely, he gestured back toward the village. “Come. I want to show you something.”
They walked to the far side of the village, where the stable sat. Aevar had debated the idea of bringing her here because of the memories, but if he wanted to build something real with her, he couldn’t keep avoiding the past.
Inside, he led her to the stall where Vega had birthed her foal, a dark brown filly, just over a week ago. “This is Vega and Eydis.”
Eadlyn’s face lit up as the foal bounced to the front of the stall, ears twitching as she sniffed at her hand. With a sudden burst of energy, Eydis leaped back and tried to buck, drawing a musical laugh from Eadlyn. The little animal had spunk. It was as if she’d inherited Thora’s spirit.
Vega stepped forward, nudging her offspring aside with maternal grace. Eadlyn stroked the mare’s neck. “They’re beautiful. Are they yours?”
Aevar ran his hand down the length of the horse’s face. “Vega belonged to Thora.”
Eadlyn went still. The silence between them shifted, uncertain yet respectful. But Aevar let himself smile, finding that talking about Thora was not as hard as he’d expected.
“She loved horses.”
“There is much to love.” Eadlyn scanned the other stalls. “Is Hiroc around? I haven’t seen him since I got here. Back at Kenwich, riding was one of my few escapes.”
“He’s out in the pasture and doing well. I’ll take you riding sometime, if you’d like.”
Her face lit up at the offer, and he held her gaze until she turned away shyly.
“Thank you. For bringing me here.” The sincerity in her voice held an understanding that this wasn’t the easiest decision for him.
They spent another few minutes enjoying the horses before leaving the stable. Near the longhouse, they parted ways—her going inside to join the women while he headed toward the training field to find his brothers and Kian.
When he arrived, Aevar found his father watching the warriors spar. He joined him, focusing on Rollo, who was finally learning to keep his shield up.
“You and Eadlyn seem closer,” his father said, still facing the ring.
Aevar glanced back toward the longhouse. “I hope so. But I don’t want to rush her.”
“You care for her then?”
“I do.” He let out a slow breath. “I don’t even know when or how it happened. But when Sig threatened her…” He trailed off, the memory igniting a familiar flame. The fierce protectiveness he’d experienced that day was not something he had felt since Thora.
Fathir turned to face him. “I’m glad you are pursuing her. She is a good woman.”
“Erik said the same. You’re both right.” He took a breath as the weight of it all came to rest in his mind. “There are still times I fear I’m going to lose her.”
Fathir’s expression held understanding. “You were too young to remember, but we almost lost your mother one winter. She came down with fever that kept her in bed for many days. There was nothing I could do but wait. I did not think she would pull through.” He sighed, his voice lower.
“The fear never truly leaves, but it teaches you not to waste the time you have.”
Aevar took that in, letting it settle in his mind. It was a hard lesson, but he was learning.
“Speaking of not wasting time,” Fathir’s eyes had taken on a sly glint, “your mother mentioned they were taking the children out to gather strawberries. Might be wise to give them an escort. In case of bears.”
Aevar grinned. How could he say no to an excuse to spend more time with Eadlyn?
Basket in hand, Eadlyn walked alongside Ranvi and Inga outside the village as sunlight streamed down on the path before them.
Trygg and Katla raced ahead through the grass, Trygg brandishing his wooden sword.
Katla let out a high-pitched squeal when he lunged at her and shouted something about a troll.
Eadlyn shared a laugh with the women as the little girl dashed back to join them, away from her brother’s antics.
At the edge of a wide meadow, they fanned out to look for strawberries. Trygg, his troll battle forgotten, grabbed berries by the handful and stuffed them into his mouth. In contrast, Katla was precise and proud of her task, carefully dropping each berry into one of the woven baskets.
Eadlyn knelt next to a small patch, tasting a few herself. They were sun-warmed and bursting with sweetness. She’d never had them fresh from the plant before.
Alvir toddled over a few minutes later, his lips stained pink. He reached for Eadlyn’s basket with sticky fingers, but Ranvi caught his hand before he snatched more.
“Wait until he and Trygg are both running,” she said, guiding Alvir back toward her. “There won’t be a single berry left for the rest of us.”
Inga laughed, her voice light with memory. “When my boys were small, they’d sneak off to gorge themselves and ruin their appetites. There were entire summers we struggled to fill a basket.”
Eadlyn smiled to imagine Aevar as a mischievous boy shadowing his brothers, mouth stained with berries.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, Trygg’s voice rang out across the meadow. “Aevar!”
Eadlyn wasn’t sure why, but something in the way he strode toward them captured her attention.
Confident yet relaxed, the sun gleaming on his weapons and somehow making his gray-blue tunic more vivid than earlier.
She considered the men in Essix she might have married, and none of them held the same appeal.
Catching herself staring, she dropped her attention to her basket. But Trygg raced past, bringing her eyes up again. When the boy reached Aevar, he jabbered about the troll. Aevar knelt to meet him, responding with mock gravity and praising his courage.
“A great warrior,” he said, tousling the boy’s hair.
Trygg puffed out his chest, sword raised to face the invisible foe.
Inga grinned up at him. “Come to eat our berries, have you?”
Aevar chuckled. “Not this time. I came to keep watch for bears.” He glanced at Eadlyn as he said it, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.
Then he turned back to Trygg and switched to Nordric, telling the boy how bears loved strawberries, especially the ones already in a person’s belly. He poked Trygg’s stomach.
The little boy released a shrieked giggle before waving his sword in the air. “I’ll kill the bear!”
He ran off, grunting as he waged imaginary battle.
They watched and laughed, though Eadlyn noticed Aevar’s gaze slip toward her again.
She got the distinct impression his excuse about bears was only that.
Even so, she darted a wary look at the trees rimming the meadow.
Excuse or not, she welcomed the safety he brought.
A couple of months ago, she might have laughed at the notion that she would equate his presence with safety.
The women returned to gathering while Aevar remained nearby, entertaining Trygg by growling and stomping around like a great beast. At one point, when Eadlyn laughed at their antics, Aevar sent her a smile that stopped her breath.
It was the unguarded, carefree smile she had been longing for this whole time.
Something had changed since the morning he found her in the garden.
She didn’t know what, but the difference in him was obvious.
When Katla tired of the berries, she tugged on Eadlyn’s hand and asked to go pick flowers instead.
Happily, Eadlyn followed, helping the girl gather white, yellow, and orange blooms from the edges of the meadow.
The children’s acceptance of her—running to her, pulling her along—meant more than she thought it ever would.
Aevar stayed near, walking a loose circle around the outer edge of the meadow and eyeing the tree line. Protective and quiet. Bending to help Katla reach for a tiny yellow flower, Eadlyn sensed his presence behind her even before he spoke.
“I don’t think you have any of these yet.”
She straightened and turned, startled to find him so close. He held out three delicate wildflowers with long blue petals and golden centers.
Her breath caught. “They’re beautiful.”
“They usually bloom higher in the mountains,” he said. “It’s rare to find them here.”
She reached out to take them. Their fingers brushed, and the contact sent a small, bright spark along her skin like the one she’d experienced on their wedding day when they’d first held hands.
“Tahk,” she said softly.
His eyes were steady on hers, serious in a way that made her stomach flutter.
She dropped her attention back to the flowers.
“Pretty!” Katla gasped, reaching for the petals.
Eadlyn knelt again, letting the girl admire them while she collected herself. When she lifted her gaze again, Aevar had already turned away, retreating with the same easy stride. She let her focus linger on his back. She wasn’t a na?ve young girl to be undone by a simple flower. And yet…
She shook her head to clear it. She didn’t even know if Aevar meant it as anything more than a friendly gesture, despite how he’d looked at her. Despite how her own heart had reacted at his gaze. He might still distance himself from her. She should not leave herself vulnerable. Not yet.