Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
SIGRID
Behave…
I’d done the motherfucker a favor, and he’d tried to treat me like a simpering Saxon wench. If that’s what he wanted…that’s exactly what he was going to get.
We strode into the enormous Great Hall, where we’d feasted the night before. I didn’t think it was possible for it to be less lively than it had been for the wedding celebration, but evidently, miracles really did happen here.
There was no joy to be found between these people, and that was before the two most hated people in the kingdom stepped into the room.
The moment we arrived, absolute silence fell.
The stiff, tense kind that made me want to laugh because I didn’t understand how people could take themselves so seriously.
It had been years since I’d experienced this kind of collective loathing. On Ocracoke, people gave me a wide berth, but I kept to myself, so they had little reason to worry about me. It hadn’t been like this since I’d left Daneland.
My father had wielded my power as yet another weapon in his arsenal, something he could use to toy with enemies and keep his people afraid.
I was able to sniff out rebellion, sensing how afraid the instigators were of discovery.
When he chose me as his torture master, I didn’t mind at first because the people I tortured had done such awful things, I relished their pain. It was a satisfying use of my powers.
But not all the blood on my hands had been so justified.
Neither was the blood on the hands of these self-righteous Saxon fucks who were complicit in their king’s actions. At least I owned my wrongs.
There should’ve been some camaraderie between me and Bastian for being similarly hated, but he was irritatingly determined to loathe himself more than they loathed him. As though he owed any of these uptight fucks anything. What had they ever done to deserve his loyalty?
Every one of our footsteps echoed off the stone floor as we approached the royal table. Bastian was rigid next to me, clearly waiting for me to do something offensive.
I curtsied before the king, and Bastian stumbled over his own feet in shock.
“I trust you slept well, Your Majesty?” I asked, mimicking the soft tone all Saxon ladies seemed to have been taught.
The king eyed me suspiciously. This game was more fun than I’d anticipated. Defying the enemy’s expectations could keep them distracted and guessing while I studied their weaknesses.
“I did, Princess. And you?”
I smiled shyly and looked away. “Hardly slept a wink. Your son has stamina.”
If I were too proper, he’d never trust it.
Several people cleared their throats awkwardly, waiting for the king’s reaction to know whether they should be amused or offended. But the members of the royal guard were looking at Bastian with a little more respect.
You’re welcome, dickhead.
The king coughed. “I’m glad to hear your union is a favorable one. I look forward to news of an heir.”
Not from me you don’t. No child of mine would be raised in this hellhole as a puppet for him. I’d sooner choose chastity.
I spotted Father Benedict lurking behind the king and threw him a wink. He pretended not to see, but his cheeks flushed an angry red.
I’m not finished with you yet. Not after what Bastian had revealed the night before.
Like he was terrified I was about to snap at the king, Bastian tugged subtly on my arm to lead me to our places at the other end of the royal table.
Something about the seating arrangement made his eyes flare with panic, but he rapidly schooled his expression. Anything that got that much of a reaction from my buttoned-up temporary Saxon husband had to be delicious.
From the way he rapidly switched my place card away from the stunningly gorgeous brunette I’d been assigned a seat next to, I was guessing she wasn’t his sister.
I ignored the cards and took the seat he’d tried to move me from. “Sigrid,” I said, offering my hand to the woman next to me.
She blinked her huge brown eyes in surprise and grasped my fingers delicately as she bowed her head a fraction. “I’m Lady Eleanor.” When she raised her head again, the look of betrayal she flashed Bastian told me everything I needed to know. He had a history with this lovely creature.
This lovely, fragile, meek creature who couldn’t have been more different from me. This was what he’d chosen?
Or had he been given no more choice in that relationship than this one?
“Oh heavens,” Eleanor exclaimed, jerking her fingers back from mine in surprise. “We must get you some gloves, Princess. How awful it must be to be touched by hands so coarse.”
Oh. My berserker rumbled quietly. She’s chosen violence.
Bastian went rigid beside me, silently imploring us to disengage.
I didn’t even try to keep a straight face. I could seduce his pretty little wench while he sat there panicking. “You prefer the soft touch of a woman, then, Lady Eleanor?”
Eleanor blanched. “Of course not! I only meant it must be awful for Prince Bastian, who’s more accustomed to the soft touch of a Saxon lady.”
Of course not? I’d have to add liking women in my bed to the long list of ways I was unacceptable to the Saxons. Hel, liking anything in bed was offensive to them since I was a woman.
I nodded and leaned closer like we were in on a secret together. “And you know how he likes to be touched?”
Color rose to Eleanor’s cheeks. “I’m an unmarried lady. Of course I have no knowledge of such things.” Eleanor’s chin dipped as she backed down, more worried about offending than she was about conceding.
Bastian’s hand landed on my thigh under the table.
His grip practically begged me to leave Eleanor alone.
He wanted to protect her, which only made me want to attack her harder because if she was willing to pick a fight with me, she didn’t need to be protected—she needed to be unleashed.
She was a Valkyrie who’d been convinced she was a fragile flower…
and Bastian had been complicit in telling her that lie.
He was still complicit, trying to shield her from a fight she’d charged in and asked for.
“A pity,” I said softly, waiting until she looked me in the eye to continue. “For a moment there, I thought you might actually be interesting.”
I see you. See yourself.
Her chin dropped again, and I could’ve roared at the whole lot of them. Even if I hadn’t been duty bound to bring this kingdom down for the sake of Axel’s trapped spirit, this was why I had to destroy it.
But not yet.
I brushed Bastian’s hand away from my thigh and daintily replaced it with my napkin as I’d seen the other women do.
As servers brought each course, I studied the people around us, parsing the threads of tension and connection between them all.
For one, the lord across from us kept eyeing his mistress, who was focused on her own husband as though she were perfectly devoted—but for one smoldering look in her lover’s direction.
All around me, wives fussed over their husbands, summoning servers to refill his drink or bring another piece of meat or retrieve his napkin. They performed their duties with aplomb, but in too many of them, I sensed a simmering hatred for the very man they were attentive to.
Fascinating…
Before he could object, I slid Bastian’s plate in front of me and cut his meat like he was a child. His ears turned bright red, but he didn’t dare stop me.
“We can’t have the prince taxing himself. Let me take care of it, darling.” I frowned lovingly, then picked up my napkin to dab at the side of his mouth—his mouth that had tightened into a line of irritation. How fun it was to wind him tighter and tighter, just waiting for him to snap.
He leaned closer and whispered, “Enough of this game, Sigrid.”
I fluttered my lashes at him. “Do you enjoy games, my lord? You must tell me which ones so I may learn them. I’m afraid I don’t know any Saxon games.”
But I’m learning how to play.
Eleanor sat forward. “Prince Bastian enjoys Castles. Never loses.”
“Then you’ll have to teach it to me this afternoon, Lady Eleanor.”
The muscles in Bastian’s jaw worked furiously.
I dropped my polite mask a fraction to return his glare.
He looked away and shook his head like he was giving up.
When the meal was over, people began to move around the room more, socializing and posturing.
As I sat observing them all, I was horrified to realize I was lonely. I missed Thorin’s stoic, stubborn presence and Talon’s ruthless energy. I missed the lively sounds of Ocracoke and the freedom I’d found there to be my own person.
I could tell my brothers the things I learned about people with my powers, but they never expected it of me.
We’d taken the island, but I was happy to let Thorin lead, leaving me to quietly help from the shadows.
If I felt the call of the sea, I could sail with Talon’s crew, but none of them relied on my being there.
I had friends like Layla for when I wanted company, but I was also granted the bliss of solitude when I went to the far side of the island to escape the oppressive feel of people’s fears.
Sometimes, even being around my brothers was too much.
They weren’t afraid of me like most people were, but they worried far too much about far too many people, between Talon’s position as captain and Thorin’s rule as king the island.
How many times had I closed my eyes and wished for a break from my powers?
Now I had it. And I’d gladly go back to drowning in nightmares if it meant I could leave this suffocating kingdom.
Eleanor kept leaning forward, trying to catch Bastian’s eye around me. The chickenshit was equally determined to ignore her.
“I’ll give you two a moment to catch up,” I said, seeing an opportunity to put plans in motion.
When I stood, everyone at my table stood too, drawing the attention of the entire room.
Good.