Chapter 31 #3
Rey jogged into the corridor, feet faltering as he passed a couple entwined in an alcove. They broke apart, torchlight illuminating Liv Eriksson’s flushed face, and a spill of black braids he recognized well.
“Runny?” Rey’s feet faltered as Runny whipped around, her eyes widening as they locked with his. She opened her mouth to say something, but Rey ran on, granting the women a few more moments of privacy.
He rounded a corner just in time to see the star-speckled train of Silla’s gown disappearing through a door midway down the hall.
Rey reached the doorway quickly, yanking it open with too much force.
It banged against the wall, echoing down the hallway.
But as he stepped into the terraced courtyard, the violent thrashing of his heart eased just a touch.
Lunar-blooming plants glowed all around him, climbing up the volcanic black stone walls and spilling from barrels. Everywhere he looked, ethereal white flowers had unfurled, lifting to the moons. His chest constricted as he found Marra, already half full.
But then his gaze fell on the lone figure seated on an obsidian bench.
Her gown pooled around her, suns and stars and moons glinting in the moonlight.
Silla had kicked off her slippers and pulled her knees to her chest. Cautiously, Rey approached, ducking beneath an arch of wild brambles, hundreds of cup-shaped flowers illuminating it from within.
She turned her face toward him, resting her cheek on her knee. His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth, uncertainty filling him.
“You don’t trust me,” she said.
A hot, panicky feeling grew inside him. “That’s not it—”
She sighed. “Don’t lie to me, Galtung. You’re worried I’ll leave you for Atli.”
Rey’s old instincts told him to flee, to deflect—anything to avoid talking about this. But he held himself in place and said, “You don’t know him like I do.”
“You’re right, I do not, Rey. Because you haven’t revealed a word about your history.
” She tilted her head up and gazed at the stars.
“It has not been easy for me here, Rey. I do not fit in—I was not raised like these people. Atli and Lady Tala, and perhaps Liv, are the only ones who’ve welcomed me—who’ve made me feel like I could belong.
And now you—you’ve embarrassed me, Rey.”
Shame stung his cheeks, but it didn’t stop him from voicing the thought that he’d been unable to shake for days. “Tell me he didn’t try anything when I was gone.”
She pushed to her feet, planting hands on her hips. “You sound like Jonas!”
Rey blinked in surprise.
“Did you know what he said to me on the Road of Bones? Jonas told me he didn’t want me to speak to you anymore!” Her voice was rising, echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard.
“I would never ask that of you, Silla,” Rey tried, his stomach wrenching at her unexpected ire. “Only that you are cautious around him.”
His words seemed to go right through her. She was pacing now. “You undid all the goodwill I’ve tried to cultivate with the northern jarls tonight. I told them of your honor and integrity and now”—she shrugged—“now I look like a horrible judge of character at best, a liar at worst.”
Glowering, Rey wiped a luminescent spore from his tunic. He felt just as he had all those years ago. Small and weak. An object of ridicule. “I don’t need their approval.”
Rey could not meet her burning gaze.
“We need unity, Rey. We need warriors to fight in the heartwood.”
“I did what you asked,” he said stubbornly. “I asked Atli for help. You see how well that went!”
“This is too important to risk on petty squabbles!” Silla shot back.
Rey glowered stubbornly at the wall behind her.
“I need you to trust me, Rey.”
His fist tingled with the remembered feel of Atli’s jaw. “I trust you. It is him I cannot trust.”
“Well, you’ll have to. I have no choice but to be around him, and I’ve made it clear to Atli where we stand.” There was a finality in her voice that told Rey this was a battle he’d never win.
Something ingrained deeply within him pushed back. Stop being a coward and fight for what you want. Fight for her. Rey scrubbed a hand down his face. “You’re right.” He turned toward her. Swallowed his pride. “Once again, I’ve let old ghosts haunt me. How can I make it right?”
Silla cocked her head to the side. “You can tell me what really happened with Kaeja. Atli told me—”
Rey felt himself grimacing. Felt old humiliation flare hot within him.
But Silla continued. “Atli told me you stole Kaeja from him as retribution for some…wrong in the sparring grounds. But his words did not fit with what I know of your character.”
Shock rippled through him, and Rey stared at her. Never before had he felt such unwavering support from another—never had he met someone who knew him so well, she could glean truth from lie. But of course she was different. Silla had never been like any other he’d met.
It took him a moment to regain his ability to speak. “Aye,” Rey choked out. “It was he who…” He scowled. “The blame does not lie on Atli. It was Kaeja who went to his bed willingly—”
“That’s what I told him!” Silla exclaimed.
A wry smile twisted his lips. Rey took her hand, drawing her closer.
“Kaeja went to his bed while she was still with me. She kept it from me, lied right to my face, and I was too much of a fool to realize.” His jaw hardened as he thought of it.
“Everyone knew, and no one said a thing. I found out later, it was all they could talk about among themselves. They gossiped about Kaeja and Atli rutting behind my back. My humiliation served as their entertainment. Eyvind had been sent out for the season, visiting the northern reaches of the Hakon lands. He found out soon after returning and immediately came to tell me.”
Silla squeezed his hand, urging him on.
“I thought—” Rey paused. Tried to find the strength for what came next. “I thought I loved her. Thought we would be wed one day. Needless to say, I couldn’t leave this place soon enough.”
Silla laid her chin on his chest, staring up at him. “She didn’t deserve you.”
The ache inside Rey grew and spread, but he didn’t flinch away from it.
He opened himself wide; let Silla see that old vulnerability.
“In the barn, you said you felt like you’re losing yourself in this place.
And I feel—” He paused. Shook his head. “—like I cannot find myself in this place, with these people.”
Wordlessly, Silla slid her hands around his neck and pulled his forehead down to hers.
“I don’t know what’s been said to you to make you feel unworthy.
” She kissed him softly. Slowly. Then drew back.
“But you are worthy, Reynir Galtung. There is no better man to have by my side. I will tell you every day, until you feel it as strongly as I do.”
All the night’s tension eased from his bones as her words seeped into his blood and warmed him through.
The glow of moonlight and lunar-blooming plants caught on her crown and the golden stitches in her gown.
Rey’s chest ached at the sight of her—she’d never looked more like a queen than in this moment.
He walked them back to the bench, then pulled her into his lap.
Rey’s lips dipped to hers, and he lost himself in the taste of her, the tickle of her hair against his skin, the soft sounds coming from them both.
For a moment, they were the only two people in the world, just the pair of them and the moonlight and the luminescent plants all around them.
Their kiss grew frantic, Rey’s hands sliding around her backside and hauling her against him.
He wanted her, desperately, here in this garden of moonlight.
But a throat cleared from the doorway. Rey drew back, staring at Silla’s dark, dazed eyes. For a moment, they stayed like this, just the two of them. But the throat cleared again, and they whirled to face Runny, half a dozen guards around her.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Runny, sounding genuinely regretful, “but Eisa’s presence is requested in the hall.”
Silla and Rey sighed at the same time. Then their eyes met in amusement.
“Well,” she said, taking a step back and smoothing her disheveled hair. “I suppose I must…”
“I’ll join you in a moment,” said Rey, adjusting his breeches.
Silla rocked back on her heels, then nodded.
And as she strode toward the door, Rey inhaled deeply.
The night was cool and quiet, a sharp contrast to the hot emotions he’d felt in that hall.
No matter how right it had felt, Rey knew it had been wrong to punch Atli.
He had to find a way to leave the past behind him.
To find his place in this world of queens and jarls.
Because Silla was right. The consequences of failure were simply too dire.