Chapter VII Hard #2
The riders spread into a wider formation as we leave the city gates behind us, covering the meadows stretching on each side of the road. Magnar urges the horse into a canter, the hooves quieter on thick grass.
“What was that?”
I bite my tongue, regretting I said it, after all. “No, nothing. I… Nothing.”
He’s silent as we ride, peaceful, late summer landscape rolling past. A dark forest looms in the east, and in the west, I see smoke curling above the abodes of the nearest village.
I relax and try to forget about him, even though it’s difficult with his thick thighs bracketing my hips, his abdomen pressing to my back.
“Repeat what you said, darling,” he says when I’ve almost gotten carried away into a daydream of riding with a dashing, gold-haired knight.
“No,” I groan as my shoulders stiffen.
Magnar huffs but says nothing more, and for a while, we ride in silence, my backside brushing against his private areas with the horse’s every step.
I can’t focus on my daydream, too aware of Magnar’s size and scent.
He smells leathery and male, solid, with a hint of cloves when he sighs.
A dashing blond knight would probably smell like flowers and vanilla—something pleasant and safe.
“Come on,” he says about half an hour later when my thighs begin to cramp from being spread wide open on the enormous steed’s back. “Tell me. It’s important, isn’t it? We need to speak about important things, dear.”
“You won’t let it go, will you?” I ask in exasperation, the cramping in my muscles fueling my annoyance. “Fine! I heard you tear women open.”
“Ah.”
He stays quiet, and I clench my teeth, his silence fueling my fear. Is he silent because what Avinia told me is true?
“That won’t happen to you,” Magnar says at last, his voice grave. “Don’t be afraid.”
My stomach plummets with foreboding. “So… It can happen.”
“No,” he says instantly. “There are measures, precautions to make it safe. We’ll take them. But even without those, it happens very rarely. We, that is, Agnidari men—are well-endowed. But the bodies of human females adapt easily. You’ll be fine. Hopefully better than fine.”
I am not reassured, and when something hard pokes my backside, and I realize what it is thanks to his earlier crude remarks, my anxiety grows. Magnar grunts, shifting in the saddle, but it doesn’t make his mishap go away.
“All right, I know you feel it,” he says after a moment, his accent stronger, like his teeth are clenched. “You were supposed to distract me, little prize. Instead, you made me think of all the things I can’t have for days to come.”
I swallow with difficulty, wanting to ask him so many questions about this. What precautions does he mean? What things is he thinking right now to make his body harden? I know I wasn’t squirming, so it’s not that. Maybe it’s the stimulation of riding?
Why is he so fixated on our belated wedding night? I am but means to an end, and marriage consummation is nothing but one more necessary step to make our wedding fully binding. Is he impatient because of that?
“I also heard you bathe in animal waste for religious reasons,” I say instead, hoping to give him the distraction he needs.
Magnar’s laughter is loud and startling, and a moment later, the hardness at my bum grows less poking, though it doesn’t disappear completely.
“I’m trying to imagine a religious ceremony that might require that,” he says with a huff of amusement. “Thank you, little prize. That was helpful.”
We ride in silence for the next few hours.
It’s peaceful, though we pass few people on the main road, and while I don’t notice visible marks of the war, the lack of tradesmen is telling.
In the few villages we ride past, I see the silhouettes of Agnidari towering above the humans.
It looks like Magnar didn’t waste any time making the country his even before the castle was taken.
We change horses in a small village completely overridden by Agnidari soldiers sometime around noon. Magnar takes me off the horse, and my cheeks burn from shame when I say I need to relieve myself. He leads me to the nearest privy standing by a cottage that seems deserted.
“I’ll be just outside,” he says with a neutral expression, though I know it’s a warning.
Don’t try to run.
“Just… don’t eavesdrop,” I mutter, gathering my torn skirts around me to fit in the tiny space.
I have used a privy a few times in the past, mostly during country picnics and longer rides, but this is the first time with a man standing watch just outside the door. I have trouble relaxing, and when I finally do, my face heats with shame when I hear the long, steady splash a few feet below me.
When I come out, Magnar whistles a cheerful melody, doing up his belt. He gestures at a patch of wet nettles by the privy.
“Whatever sounds you made, I bet mine were louder. Come. We’ll have some cold tea and be off again.”
I stare at him a moment, nonplussed. Did he… try to make me at ease? If so, he went about it quite inappropriately, but at least, I no longer feel ashamed. Magnar sighs at my hesitation, grabs my hand, and pulls me after him.
“How are your thighs?”
Achy and strained. “Fine,” I mutter darkly.
“I could massage them for you,” he says, shooting me a challenging look. “It wouldn’t take but a minute.”
“No, thank you.”
We reach a water pump, where the Agnidari stand in a line, filling water bags and dishes they seem to have taken out of the cottage. Magnar grabs a basin filled with water and takes it to an old wooden bench.
“Here. Wash your face and hands, and I’ll get you tea.”
I take off my hat and plunge my sweaty hands into the cold water, shivering from pleasure.
I am about to splash some onto my face and nape, when I realize it’s gotten quiet.
I straighten slowly and look around. The Agnidari are all by the pump, a few minding the horses.
Magnar is gone, and if I am to run, this is my cha…
“Hiya,” Khay says, coming out from behind the cottage. He bites off a large piece of a green apple and offers it to me. “Want some?”
I sigh and try to shake off the surge of tension that climbed up my limbs when I considered running.
I wouldn’t have gotten far, anyway. I ignore Khay, pursing my lips, and continue washing.
It’s very refreshing, and I am grudgingly grateful to Magnar for arranging this.
When he comes back, I drink the cold, sweetened tea he brings me in a few gulps.
“We’re making good time,” Khay says, looking at the sun that’s just past its zenith. “We’ll reach Dagnar’s castle by sundown at this rate. How’s riding with the little diamond?”
“Stimulating,” Magnar says drily.
Khay laughs and tousles my hair with a smile. I flinch back, sudden fear clawing at my spine.
“There you are, my prize. Have you been hiding from Daddy?”
“What are you doing?”
My voice is shrill, but that touch, seemingly innocent, makes a cold, slithering sensation settle in my stomach on top of all my troubles already brewing there. Khay frowns, searching my face, and Magnar claps his shoulder.
“Probably shouldn’t touch a royal princess like this,” he says with a sigh. “All right. Ready to go?”
We stop once more for a meal of bread and cheese, no human meat to be seen, then set off again. When the setting sun goldens the sky, and my legs scream from pain and tension, a small castle looms on the horizon.
“Finally,” Magnar groans, shifting uneasily. He’s poked me since the last stop, and I don’t know what to make of it. “Try to rest as well as you can. We’ll ride at dawn tomorrow.”
The castle turns out to belong to an Agnidari general who received it as a reward for his contributions to Magnar’s victories. It’s smaller than the royal castle, with only one set of walls and one gate. Three towers jut high into the twilit sky, swallows circling them with longing cries.
“Some human knight had it before,” Khay says, leading me up narrow, steep stairs to a tower where my bedroom is supposed to be. “He died when we took the castle. Now let me see about a hot bath while you make yourself at home, my lady. You’ll sleep with me tonight.”
With that, he leaves my room, locking it from the outside. I’m trapped.