Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Just a few more entries."
Magnus stared at the ledger on his desk, squinting in the candlelight. The numbers blurred together—supply counts, trade agreements, patrol rotations. Important work. Work that needed his attention.
Work that was keeping him away from his chamber. Away from Ada.
He'd been doing this for three nights now. Finding excuses to stay up late, to work until exhaustion dragged him under. Then he'd slip into their chamber after Ada was already asleep, lie down on his side of the bed and force himself to sleep before his mind could wander to dangerous places.
Like how warm she felt when she rolled toward him in the night. Or the soft sounds she made when she dreamed. Or the way she'd kissed him three days before in that very chamber, responding to him with a heat that still haunted his waking thoughts.
Magnus dropped his quill, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
It was madness.
He'd kissed her. Had pulled her against him and claimed that kiss as his prize from their bet, and it had been everything he'd tried not to want. She'd been soft and yielding and eager, and for one perfect moment he'd let himself forget why it was a terrible idea.
Then reality had crashed back. The memory of Freydis's betrayal. The knowledge that trusting someone—truly trusting them—had nearly destroyed him once before.
So he'd pulled away. Had put distance between them. Had spent the last three days avoiding being alone with her except when they slept.
And she'd let him. Hadn't pushed, hadn't demanded explanations. Had simply continued being herself—teaching his people, learning from Mairi, treating him with the same quiet patience she showed everyone else.
Which somehow made it worse.
Because he wanted to trust her. Wanted to believe that what he saw in her eyes when she looked at him was real. Wanted to stop waiting for her to prove she was just another woman who'd use him and discard him when it suited her purpose.
Magnus stood, paced to the window. The keep was dark around him, everyone else asleep. Just him and his thoughts and the constant, gnawing fear that he was making the same mistake twice.
His stomach growled, breaking the silence.
He'd forgotten to eat. Again. Too busy avoiding Ada during meals, finding excuses to take food in his study or skip it entirely.
The kitchens would be empty this time of night. He could grab something quick—bannocks and cheese, maybe some cold meat—and then finally drag himself to bed.
Magnus made his way down the dark corridors, his footsteps echoing on stone. The kitchen fires had burned low, just coals glowing in the massive hearth. Enough light to see by, barely.
He found the bread box, pulled out a bannock. There'd be porridge oats somewhere—he could make a quick bowl, eat standing up, be done in minutes.
Magnus moved toward the pantry—
And stopped.
Something felt wrong.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. That instinct honed by years of battle, of always watching for threats. Someone was here. Someone was watching.
Magnus set down the bannock slowly, his hand moving toward the knife at his belt. "Who's there?"
Silence.
He turned in a slow circle, scanning the shadows. The kitchen was large, full of dark corners and hiding places. Storage rooms branched off to either side. Someone could be anywhere.
"I ken someone's here," Magnus said, his voice carrying through the empty space. "Show yerself."
Nothing.
But that feeling persisted. Grew stronger. The sense of eyes on him, of presence nearby.
Magnus's fingers closed around his knife hilt. "Last chance. Show yerself or—"
Movement behind him. So quiet he almost didn't hear it.
Magnus spun, grabbed—
And slammed the intruder against the floor.
His hand closed around a slender throat, his knee pinning their legs, his other hand catching both wrists and pressing them above their head in one smooth motion. The kind of hold that would keep an enemy immobilized, helpless.
Then he saw blonde hair spread across the stone. Wide hazel-green eyes staring up at him. A familiar face frozen in shock.
Ada.
"God—Ada—" Magnus loosened his grip on her throat immediately but didn't release her wrists. His heart hammered against his ribs. "What are ye daein' here?"
She gasped for air, her chest heaving. "I—I couldnae sleep—I came tae get some milk—"
"Ye nearly got yerself killed!" Magnus's voice came out harsher than he'd intended. "I could have—if I hadnae seen yer face… why didnae ye answer me?"
"I didnae mean tae scare ye! I was just—ye were here, and I thought maybe we could—" Ada stopped. Her gaze dropped from his face to where his body pinned hers to the floor. "I thought if I announced meself ye would disappear tae try tae avoid me. Magnus."
He became acutely aware of their position. Of the way his hips pressed against hers, the way his chest brushed hers with each breath. Of her wrists trapped in his hand above her head, delicate and pale against the dark stone.
He should move. Should release her and step back and apologize for nearly throttling his own wife.
He didn't move.
"Ye cannae sneak up on me like that," Magnus said, his voice rough. "I'm a warrior, Ada. Me instincts—when someone approaches from behind—I react. Dae ye understand?"
"Aye." Her voice was breathless. "I'm sorry. I didnae mean tae—I'm just a light walker. Always have been. "
"Light walker." Magnus's grip on her wrists loosened slightly. "Is that what ye call it?"
"Me faither used tae say I moved like a ghost. Could never hear me comin'." Ada's eyes searched his face. "Are ye—are ye angry with me?"
"Nay. I'm—" Magnus stopped. What was he? Terrified at how close he'd come to hurting her? Frustrated at himself for being so on edge? Aware, suddenly and overwhelmingly, of how good she felt beneath him?
All of those things. None of those things.
"I'm just glad I stopped in time," he said finally.
Ada was quiet for a moment. Then, impossibly, she smiled. "Ye looked terrified when ye realized it was me."
"I was terrified. I thought I'd—" Magnus shook his head. "It's nae funny."
"It's a little funny. The great Magnus Haraldson, brought low by his tiny wife sneakin' intae the kitchens fer milk."
"Ye're nae tiny. Ye're—" Magnus stopped. "All right, ye're fairly small. But that daesnae make this funny."
"Then why are ye smilin'?"
Magnus realized he was. Despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the way his heart still raced—he was smiling. "Because ye're ridiculous."
"I'm ridiculous? Ye're the one who attacked the bread box."
"I dinnae attack the—" Magnus stopped. Started laughing despite himself. "God. We're both ridiculous."
Ada laughed too, the sound bright and genuine in the dark kitchen. And lying there on the cold stone floor with his wife pinned beneath him, Magnus felt something in his chest loosen. Some knot of tension he'd been carrying for days—maybe longer—finally beginning to unravel.
"I should let ye up," he said.
"Aye. Ye should."
Neither of them moved.
The laughter faded slowly, replaced by something heavier. More charged. Magnus became aware again of every point where their bodies touched. Of the pulse beating rapidly at the base of Ada's throat. Of the way her lips parted slightly as she stared up at him.
"Magnus," she whispered.
"I ken. I'm movin'. I just—" He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't know how to finish it.
I just want tae stay here. Want tae memorize the way ye look right now. Want tae stop fightin' this thing between us and just give in.
But he couldn't say any of that. Couldn't acknowledge what was becoming increasingly obvious—that his careful distance, his deliberate avoidance, wasn't working. That every moment spent trying not to think about her just made him think about her more.
That he was falling for her whether he wanted to or not.
Magnus forced himself to move. Released her wrists, shifted his weight off her body. Stood and offered his hand to help her up.
Ada took it, let him pull her to her feet. They stood close in the dim light from the dying coals, close enough that Magnus could see the flush on her cheeks, could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
"I really was just comin' fer milk," Ada said quietly. "I dinnae mean tae interrupt yer brooding."
"I wasnae broodin'. I was workin'."
"At midnight? In the kitchens?"
"I got hungry."
"Ye've been avoidin' meals fer three days, Magnus. Dinnae think I havenae noticed." Ada crossed her arms. "Ye've been avoidin' me fer three days."
Magnus's jaw tightened. "I havenae—"
"Ye have. Ever since we kissed, ye've barely looked at me.
Barely spoken tae me except when absolutely necessary.
And now ye're stayin' up late workin' so ye dinnae have tae be in our chamber until I'm already asleep.
" Ada's voice was steady but her eyes held hurt.
"If ye regret kissin' me, just say so. Dinnae make me wonder what I did wrong. "
"Ye didnae dae anythin' wrong."
"Then what's wrong? Because somethin' is. And if we're goin' tae be married—really married—then I need tae ken what it is."
Magnus looked at her. At this woman who'd proven herself competent and kind and brave. Who'd won over his people, who'd saved lives, who'd stood in front of a crowd and taught them despite being terrified.
Who'd kissed him like he mattered. Like she wanted him.
"I'm afraid," he said finally.
Ada blinked. "Of what?"
"Of this. Of ye. Of—" Magnus gestured between them. "Of lettin' meself care about ye and then discoverin' ye're just like—"
He stopped. Couldn't finish that sentence.
But Ada understood anyway. "Like yer first wife."
"Aye."
"Magnus." Ada moved closer. "I'm nae her. I dinnae ken what she did tae ye because ye've never told me the whole truth about it, but I'm nae her. I wouldnae betray ye."
"How dae I ken that? How dae I trust that ye mean it?" Magnus's voice was rough with frustration. "Freydis seemed honest too. Seemed loyal and devoted and everythin' I thought I wanted. And she lied tae me every single day fer months. How dae I ken ye're nae daein' the same thing?"
"Because I'm tellin' ye the truth. About everythin'.
About me faither, about why I ran, about why I kissed ye at that festival.
" Ada's hand came up to rest against his chest, over his heart.
"I'm nae perfect, Magnus. I'm stubborn and I dinnae always listen.
But I dinnae lie. And I wouldnae use ye the way she did. "
Magnus covered her hand with his. "I want to believe that."
"Then believe it." Ada's voice was fierce.
"Stop waitin' fer me tae prove I'm terrible and start believin' that maybe—just maybe—I'm exactly what I appear tae be.
A woman tryin' her best tae make this marriage work.
A woman who—" She stopped. "A woman who cares about ye more than she probably should. "
Magnus's breath caught. "Ada—"
"I'm nae askin' ye tae trust me completely.
Nae yet. I ken that'll take time." Ada's fingers curled into his shirt.
"But I am askin' ye tae stop avoidin' me.
Tae stop sleepin' like ye're afraid tae touch me.
Tae stop actin' like kissin' me was a mistake when I ken—I ken—ye wanted it as much as I did. "
She was right. Gods help him, she was right about all of it.
Magnus had been avoidin' her. Had been keepin' distance because it felt safer than admittin' the truth—that he wanted her. That he was already on the way to loving her. That every day spent trying not to care just made him care more.
"I'm nae good at this," Magnus said quietly. "At trustin'. At lettin' people in. Freydis took that from me when she—when she did what she did."
"Then we'll figure it out taegether. Slowly. At whatever pace ye need." Ada looked up at him. "But dinnae shut me out completely, Magnus. Please. I cannae—I cannae be married tae a ghost."
Magnus stared down at her. At her earnest face and determined eyes and the hand still pressed against his chest like she was trying to reach his heart through sheer force of will.
Maybe she already had.
"All right," he said finally. "Nay more avoidin'. Nay more stayin' up late tae avoid sharin' the bed properly. Nay more—" He stopped. "Nay more actin' like kissin' ye was a mistake. Because it wasnae."
"It wasnae?"
"Nay." Magnus cupped her face in his hands. "It was probably the least mistaken thing I've done since ye arrived."
Ada smiled—bright and genuine and so beautiful it made Magnus's chest ache. "So ye'll stop broodin' in the kitchens at midnight?"
"I'll try."
"And ye'll come tae bed at a reasonable hour?"
"Aye."
"And ye'll stop sleepin' like there's a wall between us?"
Magnus's thumb brushed across her cheekbone. "That one might take a bit longer. But I'll work on it."
"Good." Ada rose up on her toes, pressed a quick kiss to his jaw. "Now come on. We're both exhausted, and the floor is freezin', and I want tae get some actual sleep tonight."
She took his hand, started leading him toward the door. Magnus followed, still slightly dazed by the kiss she'd just given him—casual and affectionate and so different from that heated kiss in their chamber three days before.
Like she was comfortable with him. Like touching him was becoming natural.
Like maybe they really could figure this out together.
"Ada?" Magnus said as they climbed the stairs.
"Aye?"
"Next time ye cannae sleep and need milk, wake me. Dinnae wander around the keep alone in the dark."
"Why? Afraid I'll sneak up on ye again?"
"Aye. And afraid someone else might find ye first." Magnus squeezed her hand. "Promise me."
"I promise."
Magnus stopped.
"Actually," he said slowly, "I have a great idea."
Ada turned, her questioning eyes catching the dim torchlight. One eyebrow lifted slightly, curious. Waiting.