Chapter 15 Helayna
HELAYNA
Once Kathleen’s team finished taking measurements and all my Blood at least had something to put on, the humans left for an overnight stay in Reykjavík before returning to London. Clara made all the arrangements, of course, but I still felt… Well…
Useless.
We sat at the dining table, which once again seemed to groan beneath the weight of all the lovely food someone else had prepared and organized. Other than lay around in my bed, have sex—not complaining—and spend a fortune on clothes, what had I accomplished as the new House Ironheart queen?
:You survived when other lesser queens would have died, or gone mad and then died.: Dorr’s bond burned with a quiet yet deep rage. :Now you have people to take care of you. People who love you. Please, let us tend to you.:
I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. :I love you too, my Darkest. I especially love these pants on you.:
Thin, light material hugged his muscles, turning what was supposed to be lounging pants extremely indecent.
And very, very tempting.
It was hard to tell with his charcoal skin in this form, but I thought he might be blushing. :I feel ridiculous, to be honest, but if you like them, I shall never remove them.:
I laughed, kneading my hand slowly higher from his knee along the bulge of his quadriceps. :Oh, I never said I wasn’t going to remove them. In fact, that’s all I can think about.:
:If you care at all about these trousers, I suggest your hand slow its trip northward, my queen. I wouldn’t want to tear them open in front of your humans.:
I squeezed a little harder, pretending dissatisfaction with his words, but then I released him. :I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.:
He made a low rumbling sound like a distant avalanche. :Nothing could ever embarrass me, my queen. If you’d like to subdue me here on this table while they watch, I would gladly lay myself down on top of the dishes.:
Now my cheeks pinkened at the thought, which made him chuckle.
:That’s what I thought.:
Pàtair hovered to the side of my chair, hanging on my every bite of food as if his life depended on it.
Otherwise, I would have pushed the plate aside.
I honestly wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to offend him.
As soon as I looked up in his direction, he stepped closer, his attention entirely focused on me.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I wondered if you knew what kind of tea my mother used to drink. I found an old stale tin in the cabin in Minnesota, but I couldn’t tell where it came from or what kind of leaves it might have been.”
His shoulders fell and he wrung his hands. “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. I wasn’t privileged to serve Queen Helle. Would you know, Clara?”
“Oh.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she dabbed at her eyes with the napkin in her lap. “Is that why you brought that old tea canister with you?”
“Every time I had some of the tea, I remembered a little more,” I admitted. “Though it didn’t always work. Would one of you—”
Svar had already disappeared, running toward the queen’s suit. In a moment, he returned with the tin canister and placed it before me.
“Thank you, my Deadliest.” I gave him a smile of thanks but then focused myself, breathing deeply before I opened the tin.
I leaned forward, breathing in the leaves’ aroma, but this time, I didn’t have any flashback memories.
Relieved but also a little sad I wouldn’t at least see my mother again, I picked up the tin and offered it to Pàtair.
“Oh yes, I’d recognize the scent anywhere.
BlóDberg tea. The wild thyme petals are picked in early spring and provide its distinctive scent.
This is a readily available blend with black tea anywhere on the island.
I’m sure we have some fresh leaves in the kitchen, as well as some other Icelandic blends if you’d like to try them. ”
I put the slightly rusted and dented lid back on the tin. “Some fresh tea would be lovely. Thank you.”
He immediately went himself to prepare the tea rather than send anyone else to the kitchen.
Another wave of inadequacy flooded me. No, self-recrimination.
I felt like I was using and abusing the poor man to fetch me tea—especially after he’d managed all these incredible dishes I couldn’t even sample.
Clara must have seen something flicker on my face. She reached over and patted the back of my hand. “Goddess below, we’re so grateful to have you home, Your Majesty.”
Surprised, I jerked my gaze up to her face. “I was actually feeling bad for sending him to fetch something as inconsequential as a fresh pot of tea.”
She lightly slapped my knuckles. “Don’t be ridiculous.
Serving you is our greatest honor. I mean it.
Especially for humans who’ve served your family for generations.
We don’t live as long as you, even if we’ve been blessed with a drop or two of our queen’s blood.
He feared he’d die without ever having our queen to honor.
He has no children, and even if he did, what would he have taught them of how to serve a queen with little or no personal experience?
I at least did have some time as your mother’s consiliarius but things were much different once Queen Helle had you.
She chose to remove herself from all aspects of court life to focus her efforts on you. ”
“Which makes sending me to foster at another queen’s nest even stranger. I wish I could speak to her, or someone who knew why she might have sent me to Norway. There had to be a reason.”
“You may find answers in the legacy. I can’t tell you what’s inside for I’ve never witnessed its opening, but it’s customary for previous queens to leave histories about the house’s powers to their descendants.”
“You don’t know what’s inside?”
She shook her head. “No one can open it but you, my queen. It’s here if you’d like to examine it, whenever you’re ready.”
My stomach fluttered with anxiety at the unknown—but also anticipation. If the old tea sparked memories, surely my family legacy would return some of what had been stolen from me. “I’m ready, if it’s convenient.”
“Your wishes are never an inconvenience.” She pushed her chair away from the table and looked over to one of the waiting staff. “Please ask Pátair to bring Her Majesty’s tea to the study.”
The young man inclined his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dorr helped me with my chair and I stood. Immediately, Lokken, Myrk, and Svar stood as well. Gunnarr practically had his face buried in a large bowl, but Svar tapped him on the shoulder.
“What? Oh.” Gunnarr stood though he cast a longing look at his bowl. “Before dessert?”
“You can bring it with you if you’d like.” I looked to the young man Clara had spoken to, and he immediately straightened expectantly, his eyes flaring slightly. “Would it be too much trouble to also have dessert brought to the study?”
“Absolutely, Your Majesty.” The man stammered, blushing. “Or rather, it would not be trouble at all, Your Majesty. It’s an honor. I will see to it myself.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Arnar Skulason, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Arnar.” We followed Clara out of the dining room to the outer hallway, where she paused, a pained look coming over her face, making me quickly reach out to her. “What is it?”
“I just realized I never gave you a proper tour of your own house. You’ve barely seen a fraction of the rooms, and I haven’t introduced all the staff to you either. I’m so sorry—”
“I won’t hear it,” I said tartly, just like she spoke to me when I was being silly.
“We’ve barely had a moment to sleep, eat a little delicious food, and find some clothing.
Of course we haven’t had time to do much else, because I could barely rouse myself today for Kathleen’s team.
You can’t give a tour to someone who’s sleeping all day and night. ”
She shook her head, but a wry smile quirked her lips. “I suppose so, Your Majesty. You’re certainly entitled to sleep as long as you’d like after the ordeals you’ve faced. Though I am eager to show you the rest of the house and the grounds.”
“Tomorrow will be soon enough. For now, let’s cover the legacy and dessert. Then I’ll probably need to sleep another few days.”
She laughed more openly and started walking again, though she pointed out doors and hallways as we walked.
“This is where we met Grimley’s team today, as you know.
It’s the more public area of the house for anyone visiting who may not be entirely knowledgeable about Aima, or simply not in your circle of trusted guests.
This door is an elevator for the upper floor with state of the art security.
There’s a team monitoring access to both the upper and lower levels of the house in case your Blood are ever incapacitated in some way. ”
“Which is why I simply sauntered my way inside the house when I arrived,” Gunnarr said. “You can’t rely on human security.”
“To be fair, I hadn’t yet given them orders to elevate their security to top clearance,” Clara admitted.
“We had only just arrived, but honestly, I should have changed their orders prior to your arrival, Your Majesty. That shouldn’t have happened, even if it was someone you Called to be Blood. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”
Speaking of which, I hadn’t checked in a while to see if anyone might be approaching. I paused for a moment and closed my eyes, turning my mind inward. Listening for a whisper or feeling that might tell me someone approached.
My dark alfar Blood wound through my mind like velvet black rivers.
Lokken’s bond gleamed icy blue, white hot.
Gunnarr’s polar bear fur rubbed against me, warm and cozy and comforting.
I could sense Clara, standing like a basalt stone tower against the raging sea.
She might only be human, but she had depths and strength.