Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Ishould change into me night shift."
Ada stood in the middle of the chamber—their chamber now—her hands twisting in the fabric of her wedding gown. The door had closed behind them with a finality that made her heart hammer against her ribs.
This was it. Their wedding night. The moment that would seal their marriage in the eyes of the Crown and the Church.
Magnus moved to the hearth, adding wood to the fire. "Aye. Go ahead."
Ada waited for him to turn around. To give her privacy.
He didn't.
"Could ye—" She cleared her throat. "Could ye maybe look away?"
Magnus glanced at her, and something flickered across his face—amusement, maybe, or resignation. "We're married now. I'll see ye eventually."
"Aye, but—" Ada felt heat flood her cheeks. "Nae right now. Please?"
Magnus sighed but turned to face the fire. "Better?"
"Aye. Thank ye."
Ada moved quickly to the chest where Isla had placed her things. Her fingers once again fumbled with the laces of her gown.
She managed to get the gown off, folded it carefully despite her shaking hands.
The night shift Claricia had given her was finer than anything Ada had ever owned—soft linen with delicate embroidery along the neckline.
She pulled it on quickly, acutely aware that the fabric was thin. Almost sheer in the firelight.
Claricia's advice echoed in her mind.
Just breathe. Let him lead. It'll hurt at first, but it is quick. And fer God's sake, dinnae be completely silent—men like tae ken they're daein' somethin' right.
Ada's stomach twisted with nerves. She'd never done anything before. Never been with a man. Never even been properly kissed until Magnus at the festival.
And now she was expected to—
"Are ye decent?"
Ada jumped. "Aye. I suppose."
Magnus turned. His gaze swept over her once, then away quickly. But not before Ada saw something flash in his eyes—heat, want, quickly suppressed.
So he did desire her. That was something, at least.
"Ye should get intae bed," Magnus said, his voice carefully neutral. "It's cold."
Ada moved to the large bed that dominated the chamber. Someone—Isla, probably—had turned down the covers and left candles burning on the side tables. The sheets were clean and white, ready to be stained and inspected in the morning.
Proof of her innocence. Proof that the marriage had been consummated.
Ada's hands trembled as she climbed under the covers. The bed was enormous, easily large enough for two people to sleep without touching.
She waited for Magnus to join her.
Instead, he moved to the narrow window, pulled a chair closer to it, and sat down.
Ada stared at him. "What are ye daein'?"
"Sleepin'."
"In the chair?"
"Aye."
Ada sat up, confusion warring with something that felt uncomfortably like hurt. "But we're married. We're supposed tae consummate the marriage. The sheets need tae be stained."
"I ken what the sheets need tae be." Magnus didn't look at her. "But I'm nae goin' tae force ye intae somethin' ye're clearly terrified of."
"I'm nae terrified."
"Ye're shakin' so hard I can see it from here." Magnus's voice was quiet but firm. "And yer face has been pale all evenin'. Ye dinnae want this."
She hadn’t realized it was so obvious. He walked over to her and lifted his hand —slow, careful—and brushed her cheek. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, and that was what broke her.
Her breath stuttered. Her hands clenched in his tunic without permission, and she hated the way her body betrayed her fear. Heat rushed behind her eyes.
"That's nae… it's nae about wantin' or nae wantin'." Ada pulled the covers up to her chin. "It's about… we have tae consummate the marriage. Brian needs proof. The king needs proof."
"The king will get his proof." Magnus stood, moved to the bed. He pulled a small knife from his belt.
Ada's eyes widened. "What are ye daeing?"
Magnus pressed the blade to his upper arm and drew it across in one quick motion. Blood welled immediately. He held his arm over the white sheet, letting drops fall onto the linen.
"There," he said, wrapping it in a strip of cloth. "Proof."
Ada stared at the blood staining the sheet. "Ye cut yerself?"
"Aye."
"But that wasnae necessary. Ye didnae have tae."
"I'm nae goin' tae force ye, Ada." Magnus moved back to the chair. "Ye're me wife. That means I protect ye. Even from meself if necessary."
Ada didn't know what tae say. Part of her was relieved—God, so relieved that she wouldn't have to face it that night, wouldn't have to endure something she didn't fully understand while her body still shook with nerves.
But another part of her felt something else entirely. Something that twisted uncomfortably in her chest.
He didn't want her. That's what this meant. He was willing to cut his own hand rather than touch her. Would rather sleep in a chair than share a bed with his own wife.
"Dae ye—" Ada's voice came out smaller than she'd intended. "Dae ye find me that unpleasant?"
Magnus's head snapped up. "What?"
"Ye willnae even look at me. Ye're sleepin' in a chair rather than share the bed. And now ye've hurt yerself tae avoid—" Ada stopped, swallowed hard. "I ken I'm nae as beautiful as other women. I ken I'm too thin and me hair's too plain and I've nay experience with any of this. But…"
"Stop. That's nae—God, Ada, that's nae it at all."
"Then what is it?"
Magnus looked at her for a long moment. In the candlelight, his face was all sharp angles and shadows, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable.
"I want ye," he said finally. "More than is probably wise. But ye're terrified, and I willnae be the kind of husband who takes what he wants without carin' about yer fear."
Ada's breath caught. "Ye want me?"
"Wantin' someone and forcin' them are two different things." Magnus moved back to his chair. "We have time, Ada. We have the rest of our lives to figure this out. There's nay need tae rush just because Brian needs a bloody sheet in the mornin'."
Ada lay back against the pillows, her mind spinning. He wanted her. He'd said it plainly, without hesitation. But he was willing to wait. Willing to sleep in an uncomfortable chair rather than make her do something she wasn't ready for.
"The chair looks uncomfortable," she said quietly.
"I've slept in worse places."
"There's enough room in the bed. If ye wanted tae" Ada's face burned. "I mean, we dinnae have tae dae it, we could just sleep. Separately. But in the same bed."
Magnus was quiet for so long she thought he'd refuse. Then he stood, moved to the other side of the bed, and lay down on top of the covers—fully clothed, still wearing his boots even.
He kept as much distance between them as the bed allowed.
"Better?" he asked.
"Aye." Ada turned onto her side, facing away from him. "Thank ye. Fer understandin'."
"Get some sleep, Ada. Tomorrow the other jarls leave, and we'll have some peace."
Ada closed her eyes. Tried to relax. But she was acutely aware of Magnus lying just a few feet away. Could hear his breathing, slow and steady. Could feel the slight dip in the mattress from his weight.
He wanted her.
The words kept circling through her mind, warming something deep in her chest.
But he was patient enough to wait. Kind enough to care about her fear more than his own desire.
That mattered. That mattered more than she'd expected.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up with her. Her muscles loosened, her breathing evened out, and she drifted into sleep.
Ada woke to gray morning light and the sound of movement in the chamber.
She sat up quickly, disoriented. The bed beside her was empty, the covers barely disturbed. Magnus stood by the window, already dressed, his back to her.
"What time is it?" Ada asked, her voice rough with sleep.
"Dawn. Maybe a bit past." Magnus turned. His face was drawn, shadows under his eyes suggesting he hadn't slept well. "Brian will be here soon tae collect the sheet."
"Oh." Ada looked down at the white linen, saw the rust-colored stains. "Right."
"Are ye—" Magnus hesitated. "Are ye well?"
"Aye. Just still tired, I suppose." Ada pushed her hair back from her face. "Did ye sleep at all?"
"Some."
Which meant no, Ada guessed. She felt a pang of guilt. He'd hurt himself to protect her, then barely slept because of it.
"Yer hand," she said. "Let me see it."
"It's fine."
"Let me see it." Ada threw back the covers, padded over to where he stood. "
Magnus held out his hand reluctantly. Ada unwrapped the cloth, examined the cut. It was clean, already beginning to heal, but deeper than she'd realized.
"This must hurt," she said quietly.
"I've had worse."
"That daesnae make it better." Ada moved to the basin, wet a clean cloth, and returned to carefully clean the wound. "Ye shouldnae have done this."
"Would ye rather I'd forced ye last night?"
"Nay, but, there must have been another way."
"If there was, I dinnae ken it." Magnus watched her work, his expression unreadable. "Are ye angry?"
"Nae angry. Just—" Ada wrapped his hand in fresh linen. "Confused, I suppose. And grateful. And feelin’ a bit guilty that ye hurt yerself fer me sake."
"Dinnae be. It was me choice."
A knock at the door made them both jump.
"Me laird?" Brian's voice. "The others are gatherin' fer breakfast. And I'll need tae—" He paused delicately. "Collect what's required."
Magnus stripped the stained sheet, moved to the door, and opened it just enough to reach the bed . He handed it through without letting Brian see into the chamber.
"Here. Now leave us be."
"Of course, me laird. I'll just, I'll verify."
"Verify whatever ye need tae. Just dae it elsewhere."
Magnus closed the door firmly. When he turned back, Ada saw the flush on her own cheeks mirrored faintly in his.
"We should dress," he said. "The others will be waitin'."
"Aye."
Ada moved to the chest, pulled out a simple day dress. Magnus turned away without being asked this time, giving her privacy to change. When they were both decent, they made their way down to the great hall.
The other jarls were already there, along with Claricia and their various retinues. Plates of bread and cheese and cold meat covered the tables, along with ale and watered wine.
Erik looked up when they entered, his expression knowing. "Well?"
"Well what?" Magnus sat down, pulled Ada into the seat beside him.
"How was yer weddin' night?"
"None of yer concern."
"That good, was it?" Ivar grinned. "Or that bad?"
Magnus shot him a look that could've frozen fire. "Eat yer breakfast and mind yer own business."
Claricia caught Ada's eye across the table, raised her eyebrows in question. Ada gave a tiny nod.
They ate quickly, conversation flowing around them. The jarls discussed the best routes back to their respective islands.
Brian appeared briefly to announce that everything was "in order" regarding the consummation, then retreated to prepare for his journey back to the king.
Too soon, it was time for them to leave.
The jarls gathered in the courtyard, their men loading supplies onto the ships. Ada stood beside Magnus, feeling oddly bereft at the thought of them going.
"Ye did well," Harald said, gripping Magnus's arm in farewell. "The lass has spine."
"Aye," Ragnar agreed. "She'll keep ye honest."
"Someone needs tae," Ivar added with a grin.
Erik was last. He embraced Magnus briefly, then turned to Ada. "If he gives ye trouble, send word. We'll come knock some sense intae him."
"I dinnae think that'll be necessary," Ada said. "But thank ye."
Claricia hugged Ada tightly despite her swollen belly. "Be patient with him," she whispered. "And with yerself. It gets easier."
"How will I ken when it's easier?"
"When ye stop feelin' like ye're facin' an enemy and start feelin' like ye're facin' a partner." Claricia pulled back, smiled. "Give it time."
They left in a flurry of farewells and well-wishes. Brian went with them, carrying his precious proof back to the king.
And then, suddenly, it was just Magnus and Ada. Standing in the courtyard. Married. Alone.
"Well," Magnus said after a moment. "That's done."
"Aye." Ada looked up at him. "What dae we dae now?"
Magnus's mouth twitched. "I suppose we figure out how tae be married."
"Any ideas how tae dae that?"
"Nae a one." But his hand found hers, his fingers threading through hers with surprising gentleness. "But we'll work it out. Eventually."
Ada squeezed his hand, felt him squeeze back.
Maybe Claricia was right. Maybe it would get easier.
She hoped so.
Because despite the fear, the confusion, and the awkwardness of the previous night, she found herself wanting their marriage to work.
Wanting Magnus to look at her the way Erik looked at Claricia. With trust. With affection.
Maybe even with love. Someday.