Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
“The trial of wood is in a week’s time.” Guner gestured to the training ring, where it seemed like every karl on Nordoen had gathered to watch.
“Before then you are to practice fighting with your bond. You’ll start against each other—trying to read each other’s moves.
Heirs and seconds alike have died during this trial because they tried to rely on their own strength, not that of their tether.
For the spirits of Morkskog to find you worthy—for you to honor them—you need to fight as one, for the wood that chooses the heir will also provide timber for the second. ”
“All this fucking talk of honor,” Darcke muttered. “As if anyone here knows what honor is.”
I moved away from his side as if that would relieve me of any guilt by association.
His amusement flickered through the bond, and I gritted my teeth when it only increased as I took another step back, leaving him, Kilia, and Ilse standing by the rope surrounding the circle of cut grass where Ottoh and his sister strode in.
“Vara,” someone called behind me. Someone very familiar.
“Viljan,” I whispered as I whirled.
My guard shot a look to the side where Ivren was busy, in deep conversation with Fedic, before making his way over. I turned my back when Darcke’s annoyance wove around me, so strong I had to fight against the urge to return to him.
Viljan had never stood as close as he did now, his body towering over me, casting me entirely in shade. The cool air wasn’t what made me straighten my spine, though. It was the ember of distrust in Viljan’s eyes—the tension lining his shoulders as he took me in.
“How are you?” I asked. “How was your bonding?”
“I don’t have long,” he said. “We need to speak about that. But first, I need to ask you a question.”
“Go on.” More apprehension knitted in my gut. “What is it?”
“Did you plan to go with Darcke all along? Is that why you pushed me away?”
I let out a shocked laugh. “Of course not.” I reached out a hand his way, but my arm fell to my side when he jerked backward, ever the honorable guard.
“Viljan, I pushed you away so the gods wouldn’t look unfavorably upon you.
Everything I’ve done so far? Do you think they’ll smile at me when I stroll into their halls? ”
A small part of me had hoped he’d disagree—that he’d say I was brave. That I’d done what I had to for my people, that my lying and cheating and sacrificing innocent people for my own was what he would have done too. But Viljan didn’t lie.
“No.” The muscle in his jaw knotted. “But you made it worse. You chose a foreigner, Vara. His people worship the Vanir, for gods’ sake. What would Lika and your father say if he gets to rule our people?”
“I know.” I covered my face with my hands. “I… I just. He wouldn’t be able to tell… you know? It was the only way to keep them safe.”
“It wasn’t. There were other options. I might not fucking agree with the Solsken heir, but even he tried to keep you safe. Fedic would have been fine! Darcke? He wants to kill you half the time!”
I kept my gaze firmly on the ground when my throat started burning.
Viljan ground his teeth, his boots shuffling in the grass. “I need to ask you another question, and you’re not going to like it.”
My throat clogged from worry, but I forced a nod.
“Your father’s men sent me a letter.” Viljan paused as if the words were difficult to get out. “The axe that took your brother’s life. It… it was one of our own.”
It was like diving into a pool of ice—like the ones Lika and I would climb into during winter, fighting over who could stay in the longest.
“What?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Viljan’s throat bobbed. “Vara… I… Did you have your brother killed to be here?”
My lips parted, but nothing made it down my throat. I couldn’t breathe.
My hands flew to my chest as tears clouded my vision. A strange hacking sound trickled through my lips, but there was no part of me that would be able to get any real words out.
“I’m sorry,” Viljan whispered urgently. “It’s happened before. I… I had to ask.”
My body felt weaker than it had before I’d eaten last night, and I stumbled over a root as I backed away from him.
I couldn’t believe he’d just asked me that. I couldn’t believe the thought would even cross his mind. Darkness pressed at the corners of my eyes. I shook my head to clear it as I took another shaky step backward.
“Vara, please!” Viljan pleaded as he followed.
My bottom lip trembled. I didn’t care that people started staring, whispers rising across the karls as they tried to understand what was happening.
“Please,” Viljan said again. “I need you to listen to me.”
“She doesn’t need to do anything,” Darcke drawled as he came to my side. “Now run along. Your heir is looking for you.”
Darcke’s delight when Viljan turned to Ivren, who hadn’t even noticed he was gone, fought with the sense of betrayal trying to suffocate me.
“Like a domesticated hound,” he taunted. “Scared of dishonoring his master. A little less of that and you would be the one standing proud by her side.”
“As if there is anything proud about you.” Viljan’s growl drew even more of a crowd.
Darcke tsked when my former guard took a step toward him. “Ah, but you can’t hurt me unless you want to hurt her.” His arm slid easily across my shoulders. “Right, heir?”
“Just go,” I said, trying to shake off Darcke’s arm and failing.
Viljan’s eyes followed when Darcke’s hand brushed the bare skin on my shoulder.
I shoved at the warrior. He only chuckled before he nodded to Viljan again. “See, it’s not so scary. She doesn’t carry any deadly diseases.” His eyes slid my way. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Second!” Ivren’s call made Viljan freeze mid-step. I met Ivren’s eyes for a brief second, but whatever he saw in them had him firm his demand. “Come. We need to discuss strategy.”
Ivren looked at me as if he was searching for gratitude when Viljan hesitated for only a moment before turning his back on us and making his way over again.
I expelled a huff before ripping my gaze away. A sticky sense of betrayal layered all over my skin, and when I finally wrangled free from Darcke, I rubbed my hands over my bare arms, wishing I hadn’t opted for a short-sleeved tunic today.
“Cry if you want,” Darcke said when I choked down a sniff. “I think only half of the crowd is looking at us. Besides, you’ve already exhausted everyone’s capacity for disappointment.”
Snot bubbled from my nose when I burst into a laugh, and a sliver of pride pierced my chest before Darcke was able to lock it down somewhere deep inside him.
“Too late.” I pressed a finger into his chest. “I know you were trying to make me laugh.”
“I don’t try,” Darcke replied as he dragged me with him to the training ring where Ottoh and his sister were taking turns evading and attacking each other, already moving in perfect synchrony. “I only do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Have I told you today you’re a bastard?”
“I think the last time was after midnight, so yes.”
As we reached the rope, we stood silently beside each other while Ottoh and Vero finished their training, waiting as every move was evaluated and analyzed by Guner and Torden. I gave the dark-haired warrior a weak smile as he lifted a hand to greet us. Darcke offered a quick bow of his neck.
“Why doesn’t he touch you?” Darcke asked as Vero managed to slam Ottoh into the dirt, ignoring Guner’s furious shouts that Ottoh should have felt it coming.
“Because my father ordered him not to,” I replied, fighting the sorrow that came with thinking of my father. “Viljan believes in honor.”
My efforts to hide my emotions were useless.
“That makes you sad?” Darcke asked.
“No.” I played with the rope. “He would have been a perfect second. No temptation.”
Darcke’s silent laughter bled into my consciousness, and I groaned even before he replied. “Are you saying I’m tempting?”
“Tempting to kill,” I said on a sigh.
Darcke’s fingers ghosted over my skin. “Unfortunately for you, that would end your life as well.”
“Might be worth it.”
It was Darcke’s turn to laugh.
“Look at that.” Torden walked up as Vero helped Ottoh to his feet, the latter grinning more widely than I would have expected at his sister besting him. “Have the two of you had it out and made up?”
I didn’t think my cheeks could burn more furiously, but when Darcke patted my shoulder and said, “She’s trying to seduce me, but I still haven’t decided if I’m willing,” it felt as if my skin might melt right off.
“I’m definitely not,” I snapped.
“I certainly hope so, since that would be a violation of the gods’ rules for the iron-bond.” Guner came to Torden’s side. “Your title would be stripped, heir—your honor gone. And you, Darcke. You’d lose all privileges the king provides you.”
“So I have nothing to lose?” Darcke stepped up until he was almost nose to nose with the king’s second. His eyes sliced to me as he added, “Tempting.”
Guner sighed so deeply he blew my hair out of my face. “You know what the king does for you. Shut your mouth and come into the ring.”
Darcke’s hand lifted, but Torden caught it, a warning shadowing his features.
Tension fractured the air, and for a second even the murmurs of the crowds died down.
Guner spun, a smile on his face as if he couldn’t wait for Darcke to come for him.
My second’s rage flowed freely between us.
It became a struggle for me to hold back as disdain and disgust consumed me to the point even my vision tinted with crimson.
It was the fear in Torden’s eyes that made me place a hand on Darcke’s other arm. I didn’t doubt the king and Guner would have my second’s head if he landed a strike to his jaw—an urge that was far too easy for me to read.
“Save that for the trials,” I said.
When Darcke turned his anger on me, I added in a lower voice, “I get it. I hate him too. But he’s not worth it.”