Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-seven
Eadlyn attached two round silver brooches to the dark blue apron dress layered over her new lighter blue one.
They were more ornate than the other pairs in Thora’s clothing chest. Pieces she’d long admired but hesitated to wear until today.
The Midsummer festival was the perfect occasion.
She strung a strand of red beads between them, the rich color striking against the blue, and gave her hair one final brush before leaving it loose for Ranvi to arrange.
The hall was already bustling when she entered. Trygg dashed around, shrieking with excitement, while little Alvir toddled after him, clapping and laughing, oblivious to the day’s meaning, but delighted by the joy clinging to the air.
Eadlyn scanned the room and found Aevar’s attention already locked on her. His eyes traveled from the beads at her chest to the fall of her unbound hair and back to her face. A smile curved his lips, slow and intent. Her heart skipped.
The last few days had deepened something between them. Since their honest conversation in the stable, Aevar had been more present. More open. Like something inside him had finally freed. Today, a quiet awareness pulsed between them as if something was building with each shared glance.
When she reached him, he leaned in, voice pitched low and private. “The new dress is beautiful.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Thank you. I had a lot of help from Ranvi.”
Before anything else passed between them, a wild battle cry rang out.
Trygg sprang from a bench and launched himself at Aevar’s back.
Aevar caught him with a laugh, steadying the boy as he shouted and wriggled.
He had a particular knack for interrupting their moments.
Aevar flashed her one last meaningful glance before surrendering to his nephew’s chaos.
Still smiling, Eadlyn found a seat for Ranvi to do her hair.
Her sister-in-law took her time this morning, weaving in beads that matched her dress and tucking in small wildflowers they’d picked yesterday.
A few times, she caught Aevar watching her with appreciation even as Trygg continued to chatter and climb over him like one of the small monkeys a traveling merchant had once brought to the palace.
As the family gathered for breakfast, Eadlyn leaned closer to Aevar. “Will Kian stay with me again during the sacrifices?”
She’d overheard Runar and Erik discussing the animals set aside—offerings for a bountiful harvest—and the memory of the last sacrifice lingered in her mind.
Aevar shook his head, and for a heartbeat she worried he would require her to attend this time. But then he said, “I will stay with you.”
“You won’t go?”
“I don’t think it’s necessary.”
He spoke it so simply, but it echoed with significance. What it meant, she couldn’t say and didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she prayed it might mean a subtle shift in his beliefs.
As soon as breakfast ended, the others gathered at the door, their voices rising with the day’s excitement.
It took only a moment for them to realize Aevar had not joined them.
Runar looked over his shoulder but made no comment.
Kian, however, grinned as he backed toward the exit.
“Well, I suppose I’ll go make myself useful.
Someone’s got to make sure things are in order. ”
With a wink, he vanished outside, leaving Eadlyn and Aevar alone.
Aevar turned to her. “Shall we take our walk?”
Eadlyn nodded, something in his eyes causing anticipation to grow inside her.
He reached for her hand, and they stepped out into the clear midsummer morning.
Most of the village was empty, voices distant now.
The path stretched before them, quiet and sunlit.
Wreaths of greenery and flower garlands adorned the houses they passed, done to ward off evil spirits, according to Ranvi.
Eadlyn had helped hang many of them the day before, praying as she did so that God’s love and light would shine through.
They wound along the silent road toward the fjord, walking side by side with fingers intertwined.
As they neared the beach, she noticed the piles of wood stacked for the evening bonfires.
They walked between them, and Aevar let her have her few minutes to pray as he always did.
But she found it hard to focus when she sensed his gaze on her, warm and unrelenting.
She cracked an eye open. “Your staring is very distracting, you know.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Would it help if I turned my back?”
She laughed. “Not really.”
He stepped closer, something new stirring in the air between them. He reached into his belt pouch and held out a small linen bundle.
“I have something for you.”
She took it, unwrapping the layers with care. Her breath caught. Two strands of the blue and black beads she’d admired on the Essian merchant’s table rested in her palm. At the center of one strand hung a delicate silver cross adorned with graceful knotwork.
“How—?”
His smile grew. “Ranvi mentioned the beads. And your mother’s necklace.”
Of course she did, and Aevar had made this happen.
He took the strands from her and fastened them to her brooches.
The beads nestled against her apron dress.
Eadlyn stared down at the gift and brushed her fingers over the smooth glass and the shining cross.
Though not her mother’s necklace, it was as if a piece of her had been returned.
Something to honor the life she had lived despite its tragedy and hardship.
An unexpected wave of emotion welled up, and a tear slipped free. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She reached to wipe it away, but Aevar beat her to it.
His thumb brushed over her cheek, sweeping away the moisture.
It lingered, trailing down over the scar on her lips, and his eyes seemed to memorize every little detail of her face.
Then his hand slid into her hair, his fingers resting at the nape of her neck.
And when he bent his head, stopping just shy of her lips, she saw it in his face.
He wouldn’t take what wasn’t freely given.
She leaned in, closing the breath of space between them.
His mouth met hers in a kiss that was tender and reverent.
No urgency, no rush. Just the soft press of lips, the warmth of his breath, and the stillness of a moment that had been building since the first time they met on that open plain in Essix.
His arm wrapped around her back, drawing her in, and she pressed her palms to his chest, the rapid beat of his heart echoing her own.
When they parted, his hands remained at her waist, his gaze soft and dazzled. The world seemed to sway, and it took a long moment before her thoughts settled into place again.
“Was this your plan when you chose not to attend the sacrifices?” she teased, breathless.
“Not really a plan. More of a hope.”
Eadlyn studied his face the way he had hers, taking in the blue of his eyes that was the first thing she had noticed about him. Emboldened, she reached up and skimmed her fingers along the cropped side of his head, marveling again at how much the style appealed to her.
His eyes closed at her touch. Then he turned his head and kissed her arm where her sleeve had slipped.
Her skin sparked. Catching her hand in his, he brought it to his chest, holding it over his heart.
He kissed her again, this time deeper, and she melted into it, the world narrowing once more to just them.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there in each other’s embrace. Time blurred until the faint sound of voices tugged at the edges of her awareness, and they parted reluctantly. It must be the thralls returning from the sacrifice to finish preparations before the villagers arrived.
Aevar sighed, though one of contentment. “I suppose we should head back.”
Fingers still entwined, they turned from the fjord and walked toward home.
The village came alive with Midsummer cheer.
Like during the Gathering, contests sprung up on the edges—footraces, spear throwing, archery, and several informal challenges that seemed to invent new rules as they went.
Children ran wild, faces sticky with honey cakes, and laughter rolled across the fields.
At the edge of the commotion, thralls bustled, hard at work to prepare food and refreshments.
Smoke and sizzling meat curled through the air, blending with the sweetness of mead and fresh bread that made Eadlyn’s mouth water.
She walked alongside Aevar as they moved between events, brushing shoulders.
Sometimes his hand linked with hers; at other times it rested against her back.
After watching Kian and Braan battle to see who could throw a large stone the farthest, they wandered to the grappling ring, where a crowd was forming.
Eadlyn edged toward the front with Ranvi, weaving her way through the onlookers as Aevar prepared to step in.
The press of people around her was nothing compared to the thrum in her chest.
Since their kiss this morning, everything was heightened between them, including her anticipation to see him compete again. She spotted the same awareness in his eyes as he approached her and tugged off his tunic.
“Hold this for me?” He handed it to her with a knowing smile.
The breath she’d just taken forgot how to leave her lungs. “Of course.”
She draped the fabric over her arm. He didn’t move right away.
His gaze lingered on her mouth, and she was suddenly hyperaware of the surrounding crowd.
She wanted to kiss him. Badly. Especially remembering how she wished he’d taken a kiss for good luck before knattleikr.
But her courage faltered at the last moment, and he didn’t press.
Before she could change her mind, he turned and walked into the ring.
She bit her lip, frustration bubbling. She should have kissed him.