Chapter Five #2
Astrid’s nearly bloodless lips turned up. ‘The stories we tell ourselves when we are afraid to face the truth. Even you—no, especially you, my dear. Remember I didn’t raise you to be a coward.’
‘We will speak later.’ Svanna forced her feet to turn and walk away.
The one thing she wasn’t was rash. She knew what it was like to live a lie, where every heartbeat offered the possibility of betrayal.
She’d learned to dart about like a salmon in a river, seeking to evade the hook, flashing colour here and there but always turning at the final instant.
She’d accepted long ago that love and passion happened to other people, people like Maer, not sensible people like her.
She considered passion untrustworthy, and she had no expectations of that from Rand.
Right now, she’d settle for a purpose, even if the purpose was raising another woman’s daughter while assisting in ensuring her own country’s security.
Lacking in romance maybe, but worthy in its way.
After speaking briefly to the priest, she went out of the hospital and filled her lungs with fresh air. Even in the short time she’d been in with the Queen, things had altered.
The charred remains of the hall were being dismantled. In the square, a small platform for this afternoon’s ceremony was rapidly being erected. It was amazing how much could be accomplished in such a short span of time if people were properly directed.
An ever-dwindling number of petty kings and their entourages stood gossiping in small huddles. She suspected that they would stay until after the ceremony, but probably no longer than that. She made a point of lingering briefly near each group.
Their faith in Sigmund’s invincibility was badly shaken, or that was what she seemed to make out from the unguarded snippets she overheard.
The kings made the error that she could not understand Gaelic and forgot to guard their tongues while she was in earshot.
She might not be able to speak it very well, but she could understand far more than she let on.
Keeping her ears pricked for any more gossip, she made her way slowly towards the kitchens to ensure that enough food remained for everyone.
All the little tasks that ensured no one had cause to complain about the hospitality on offer and use that as an excuse to depart.
If this chance slipped away from Sigmund, she suspected much would change and there would be no need for a political marriage for her.
‘Did you speak to Queen Astrid? Does she approve of your scheme?’ Rand asked from where he lounged against the wall in the hazy sunlight when she emerged from the kitchen.
The midday sun caught his forearms, making them dappled in gold. Despite her promises, the warm place in her middle began to curl about her. She hastily averted her eyes and tried not to think how strong they had felt around her when she’d woken up this morning.
Theirs was to be a marriage of political necessity, not one of carnal lust, she reminded that little insistent voice in the back of her mind.
Despite their lingering kiss, he wasn’t interested in such things, not with her.
Her value lay in the kinship alliance she brought, rather than in lust or burgeoning affection.
It was the subtext of the discussion they’d had about his late wife.
And he did need a mother for his little girl.
She knew she could take Astrid’s foster-mothering as a guide and improve on it.
Ensuring he understood precisely what was on offer was her immediate task.
‘The Queen and I conversed at length. Given time, I think she will make a full recovery. That priest’s ability to heal almost makes me want to believe in their Christian God.’
‘I became a Christian when I married my late wife. Miracles are possible.’ His smile tugged at his scar. ‘I simply don’t believe every single miracle that I hear of.’
‘Must I become one as well?’
‘Forced conversions are counterproductive.’
‘I do what is necessary to protect my country, Rand.’
‘Somehow, I think you mean that. Tell me, when was the last time you did something which wasn’t your duty, Svanna? Something for Svanna Guthardottar and not Agthir.’
‘I washed my hair.’
He threw back his head and laughed. A great booming laugh. Svanna concentrated on keeping her face carefully blank but as the laugh continued, her mouth twitched upwards. Eventually, he wiped tears from his eyes. ‘Washed your hair. Very good. But you know what I meant.’
Under the intensity of his gaze, Svanna immediately became aware of the imperfections in her dress and the way her hair escaped from its couvre-chef.
She tried to keep her hands from automatically adjusting it.
It should make no difference what he thought of her appearance, but somehow it did.
She could not confess that kissing him in the way she had earlier had nothing to do with her duty.
‘My foster-mother understands the necessity of repaying a life debt.’ She fought to keep her voice steady and not lapse into a nervous sing-song lilt.
‘She allows me to use my judgement on marriage. I can be of value to you personally as well. Your little girl must long for a mother and I know how to run a household.’
Rand’s mouth turned down. ‘Leave Birdie out of this. I will protect my daughter my own way.’
Svanna lifted her chin and refused to crumple. She would find a way to assist that little girl. ‘Agthir can’t risk Turgeis becoming powerful. He bears a significant grudge. A kinship alliance makes political sense.’
‘I can’t fault your logic of why a marriage is required. I hate that it solves many of my problems.’ His smile again tugged at his scar. ‘In my experience, women are seldom logical, particularly where matters of the heart might be involved.’
‘Romantic notions belong to women like your missing peace-weaver.’ She put her tongue to the roof of her mouth to prevent the words and your late wife from slipping out.
He inclined his head and his expression turned inscrutable. ‘We must keep my cousin and his bride out of the tale. One day, they will face the high king and explain themselves, but until then they should play no further part.’
She fluttered her lashes. ‘You intend to tell the high king some pretty tale about you and me? How else will you explain the woman’s absence from court?’
A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Unfortunately, I know the reasoning, but I dislike women being manipulated.’
‘I made the offer. My choice—or should I be denied that right?’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘Maybe you doubt that your king will believe you. Is there some reason why he thinks you will never marry and will suspect you have tried to trick him?’
He watched her with hard eyes. ‘He knows I loved his daughter.’
‘And therefore, you would never fall for me?’ She forced the words from her throat.
‘I believe I can spin a tale with the best of them.’ His gaze travelled slowly down her form. ‘The high king is not so old that he fails to understand basic instincts, even from a battered warrior like me.’
Svanna hoped he’d think the burning on her cheeks was merely from the late afternoon summer sun beating down her, rather than from her inexperience with the physical side of marriage.
She’d taken her nurse’s words to her heart and shied away from such things after the garden incident.
After Maer had returned, she hadn’t encountered anyone who made her pulse race sufficiently to even think about joining with them.
Until now, a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her.
She silenced it. Her attraction to Rand was a holdover from a girlish fantasy.
She had to think with precise logic and not give into romantic fluttering.
First the agreement to wed and then she’d explain about her scheme to ensure that the marriage bed remained cold.
‘Battered?’
‘Battered, hard-bitten and cynical. But even one such as I know when to accept help to avoid losing everything.’ He inclined his head. ‘I will speak to Lord Sigmund and obtain his permission.’
‘Lord Sigmund is not my guardian and has no say in the matter,’ she said in a rush. ‘I make my own decisions.’
‘A particular order to things exists. Lord Sigmund must agree to the marriage, or what value do you hold for my king and adopted country, as the alliance must be with Islay?’
She gritted her teeth. Value existed, if only he’d see it. And she intended to be an equal in the proposed marriage.
‘If you return without an agreement, will you have betrayed your king’s trust more than you have already done by allowing the elopement? You may know why it happened, but will your king blame you?’
Rand’s mouth became a tight white line.
‘Quarrelling?’ Sigmund asked in his heartiest voice. ‘Here, you two had such a blossoming friendship after your heroics. What to do about a quarrel between two such as you? Peace must blossom between Tara and Agthir, or else how will little Islay survive?’
Svanna smoothed the creases in her gown. Maer had warned her before she’d left to be extra wary when Sigmund was in an overly jovial mood, as it often changed faster than a summer thunderstorm could blow in.
‘We’ve formed a friendship after a fashion, true,’ she said carefully and gave Rand a significant look, hoping he’d play along.
She hoped he understood that she was giving him the opportunity to speak with Sigmund about the proposed marriage.
‘How could we not after the adventure we inadvertently shared?’
Rand’s voice lowered to a rich purr. ‘Indeed. Most enlightening how quickly our friendship has developed. Deepening it has caught my interest.’
Sigmund rocked back on his heels, rubbing his hands together as if he was at a marketplace. She had the distinct impression that he was laying traps and hoping for explosions. ‘Good, good. Is this a new friendship or a renewal?’