Chapter Five
SHE WAS HIGH on adrenaline. There was no other explanation. She felt like she had the energy of ten pikas trying to dry hay for their den before the winter came.
She was motivated, more than ever, to make use of these two years.
What she had learned from her time in the convent was that no time was wasted. Even when it felt like it was.
Her time at the convent had taught her more about herself than anything else in her life had. But it had been a quiet time. It had been a thoughtful time, where her own mind had been the teacher.
This was different. She had a job that she could do. She had a purpose.
He was right. She thought that she was going to go out into the world after this and just live a normal life. It was what she wanted. But she would need money. She would need education, a career.
Maybe she would start a farm. But she would need to understand what went into running it and keeping it going.
She could take advantage of this time. To learn. To gather what she needed. Because this was the beginning of something. Truly. She had help. She was not going to simply be an accessory to a man for the rest of her life. She was not going to rot away and lose herself the way that her mother had.
No.
That conversation with her father had proven to her that she had power. That she was smart.
She wasn’t lesser.
She had won. Today, she had won.
“Excuse me,” she said, when she saw the man that she had learned was Ragnar’s right-hand adviser. Soren. “I need a computer. And an internet connection. I’m also going to need some idea of what the finances for the country are. And…”
“I will check with the king.”
“Well, do that. But I’m not a prisoner.”
“Are you not? I seem to recall that you were taken forcefully.”
“But Ragnar and I have come to an agreement.”
“I will see.”
She gripped the front of her dress and swished back to her room.
It really was a lovely dress. She took it off, and went to her wardrobe, taking out a pair of camel-colored pants, and a loose-fitting top. By the time she was finished dressing there was a knock on her door.
“The king says you may have this.”
She was presented with a laptop. Brand-new from the look of things.
She clutched it to her chest. “And?”
“He says he will send you information that might be relevant to you.”
“How?”
“He established an email address for you.”
And with that, Soren was gone.
And she set the computer on her desk and began to hunt through different webpages for information on Asland. Not just recent history, but the history of the past.
The history of what had happened at the palace on the day of the coup.
A coup that had resulted in horror for everyone.
The king and queen had been killed.
She knew that. Logically. But reading about it now that she knew Ragnar made her feel cold.
The young prince was eight years old. He was thought to have been killed along with his parents initially.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she realized that the implication of that was that there had been other victims who were children.
What an awful thing.
It made her feel a sense of deep anger at everyone involved. At her father. Who had formed an alliance with this new government rather than repudiating it. Who had done what was expedient to him at the time, rather than what was right.
There were no details about what had happened with Ragnar, because no one knew. His appearance on the scene had been a surprise to everyone the world over. But DNA results had proven that he was exactly who he said he was.
There was a dinging sound, and she opened up the email program. She smiled just slightly when she saw his name. In an email program. It seemed so weird and modern, civilized, when in practice that man was none of those things.
She clicked on the message.
You will find that the treasury is solvent. There is a budget in place for certain things. Why are you asking about this?
She tapped Reply.
Because, I’m thinking about what I do to accomplish diplomacy. And that might necessitate expenditures.
Another email came in quickly.
This is your budget:
The sum that he provided was more than generous. He had been right about the treasury being solvent.
Amazing, but she supposed that was what happened when a horrendous dictator hoarded everything for himself.
She could see by looking through all the information that a lot of the money had been returned to the people.
The treasury was still healthy, and they were able to implement the sorts of programs necessary to keep a country running, but also there had been a real effort to lift the citizens out of the abject poverty they’d been forced into.
She sent him a new email.
I also want a list of countries you would be interested in strengthening ties with.
There was nothing in the body of the returned email. Only a document.
She tapped her chin as she read through it. And she began to formulate a plan. If he wanted to make a statement with their marriage, then they would make a statement.
A national paid holiday for all the citizens, with a celebratory atmosphere. And a party thrown at the palace.
For all of these world leaders that he wanted to strengthen ties with. Yes. She could do this.
She was confident in it.
She created a proposal, an outline for the events and how it would be executed. Of course, she would hire people who were more experienced than she was to oversee the details, but one thing she knew from her father was how to create a spectacle that would engage even the most jaded of guests.
She sent the proposal to Ragnar.
She was surprised when he didn’t respond.
And when there was a deafening pounding on the door she nearly jumped out of her skin.
She scuttled away from the laptop, and opened her door. There was Ragnar, standing there holding printed-out paper in his hand, glaring.
“What?”
“A party?”
“Not just any party, reception. For our marriage. To set our intention for how we intend to rule the country together.”
“I do not do parties.”
“You wanted me for this. You want me to teach you how to be with people. So you have to let me do what you’ve asked me to do.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I can throw you in the dungeon for the next two years—or forever if I like. That I have given you anything is a gift.”
Her heart began to pound faster. “You are a beast. A flat-out monster, a feral animal who was raised by wolves. And if you want to be a king, a leader of men, then you have to start behaving like a man.”
The tragic thing was, she felt like this was in line with men’s behavior. She didn’t give that gender very much credit at all. Her own life was a testament to how selfish they could be.
How difficult.
He let out a low growl and slammed her bedroom door shut as he walked inside. This was a huge space, and yet the way that he filled it was almost overwhelming.
Made it so that she couldn’t breathe.
How could she be so angry at him and yet also…?
The truth was, she had spent her life exposed to men. But most of them had been her family. And the ones that weren’t, were people like the vile dictator her father had been intent on forcing her to marry.
She had never been left alone in any sort of capacity with a man like Ragnar.
A man who was as compelling as he was terrifying.
A man who really might be closer to beast than human.
He was so large. So broad.
All of the men in her family had olive skin, black hair—like her own—and fine features. The kind that could easily put them on the cover of fashion magazines—and several of her brothers had been featured on such magazines. Ragnar was completely different.
He was rough-hewn, as if he had been carved from stone.
His blond hair shaved at the sides, longer on the top, pushed back off of his face.
His blue eyes were fierce, and his full beard added to his feral look.
He didn’t wear suits. Even today, he had been dressed in war regalia.
And now he was back in the same all-black sweater and pants she had seen him in before.
There was nothing practiced or artful about him. In fact, he was frighteningly authentic and honest. He made her want to hide.
Not because of his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms, but because she was quite certain that he could see through her.
In a way that no one else ever had.
Maybe in a way she had never even seen herself. Not even after three years in a convent pondering her life, her feelings, her motives.
When he looked at her now, he made her throat go dry.
“You could keep me in a dungeon,” she said, steeling up all her courage as she moved closer to him.
“I understand that. But I don’t think you will.
You’re a very smart man, Ragnar. Everything that I’ve seen of you so far suggests that.
And you know that I’m no use to you if I’m a prisoner.
If I’m a prisoner, then you could have taken any woman. ”
“That isn’t true. I have now earned the allegiance of your father.”
“You could have more.”
Those words landed between them, and something flared in the depths of his icy gaze.
Her heart leaped, her stomach going tight.
And all at once it didn’t feel like they were discussing diplomacy.
Not a ball, not relations with Cape Blanco.
All at once, it felt like something darker. Something more personal.
Something she truly had no experience with at all.
“Could I?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
She curled her fingers into fists, her nails digging into her palms. A strange thrill shot through her core, and she had to fight the urge to press her thighs together.
She didn’t want him to see her react. She didn’t want to betray the strange feelings that were rioting through her system, not at least until she could get a grasp on what they were.
“Yes,” she said, swallowing hard. “In that I know how to manage all of this. I understand how to do this part. I learned from watching my father. And even though I don’t respect him, even though I think he’s kind of a terrible person, he is very good at making connections.
So good that he even cozied up with an evil dictator.
And he’ll cozy up to you as well. He has no real morals where that is concerned. I do, though. I just also know…”
He lifted an eyebrow. “How to manipulate people?”
“I don’t like to call it that. But I suppose it is.
But isn’t that actually what diplomacy is?
You tweak everything just right until the other party is happy.
In this case, we want them to see what you are offering.
And why you’re making things different. You’ve had a few years now to settle in, and now you’ve got married.
So it’s time to show everyone who you are now.
And exactly where this country’s going.”
“It is a bit of a bait and switch, considering that you’re a temporary addition.”
“So you’re going to have to outshine me,” she said.
He chuckled. “Some have said that my personality is lacking.”
“You said that you wanted help with that. Well, I can.”
He moved to her desk and leaned back against it, and there was something nearly obscene about it, though she couldn’t say why. Something about the way he held himself, about those muscular thighs, and how large and battered his hands were, gripping the edge of that desk.
She felt something that she couldn’t even define inside of her. Something that was like instinct, as old as time. Something that was part of her, even if she didn’t know how to define it.
She was innocent of men. In that way. But right then she felt like she knew. Exactly what she wanted from him. Exactly what she could do to him. And what she would want him to do to her.
Her breath caught. “I’m going to help you,” she said.
“That remains to be seen.”
He pushed off from the desk, and moved away from her, out toward the room. “We can meet tomorrow at noon.”
“I will send you a detailed plan ahead of time.”
When he left and closed the door behind him, a breath exited her body on a gust.
Now all she had to do was think of a detailed plan. And not about the way that her hands were shaking.