Chapter 46
Carys
The water level in the loch is particularly high after all the rain we’ve had. Usually, all the trees have bloomed by now, leaving the surroundings at Paramount washed in the colors of spring, but many are still surprisingly bare.
After over a week, my days are equally bare without Alys, Tiernan, and Durvla.
Bitterness coats my tongue. My mother, and even Alys, withheld so much from me. Gods, I’m destructive enough without wielding. I heave a sigh and lean against the balustrade, drinking in the fresh air.
The sisters join me in my bedchamber around noon, attempting to cheer me up with card games and Ellynne’s special brand of fortune telling.
“Ah,” she says, not even showing me the card she holds in front of her face.
“You will fall in love with a handsome brute, get married, and have very blond children with eyes like fire.”
At that, I burst into tears.
Unabashed, ugly, forceful tears. Lowri jumps as if I’ve startled her and Ellynne drops the cards, reaching out to place her hand over mine. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Lowri snatches up the bottle of wine sitting on the table and fills my goblet.
She’s not even finished pouring before I snatch the goblet from beneath the stream of wine and gulp it down.
Lowri scrambles in her pockets for a rag to mop up the mess left behind while I dissolve into an equally messy fit of tearful hiccups.
“I know you miss them,” Ellynne says gently. “But we’re here for you. Aren’t we, Lowri?”
Lowri bobs her head, agreeable as always even as she mops up the wine on the table. I should be grateful for what I still have, but it’s so damn hard to find joy when there’s a black cloud above me, waiting to rain down some unknown terror.
The aroma of something sweet and buttery greets me as I step into the dining hall.
But before I can make a beeline for the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of a broad figure sitting with their back to the table, hunched over something.
My shoes clack loudly on the floor as I come to a stop and Callum grumbles something under his breath that I don’t quite make out.
The figure lifts his head, a bearded face turning my way, the braid down the center of his head like warm brass in the chandelier light.
I take in the immediate glint that rises into the man’s eyes and the easy smile that spreads across his full lips.
“Hello, Carys,” Odgar’s resonant voice greets me.
An odd, warming sensation expands in my chest.
“I was hoping to run into you,” he says.
He shifts as if to stand but I gently hold my hand up.
My steps are quick as I make my way toward where his chair is awkwardly turned away from the table.
In his lap is a fuzzy ball of grey-flecked ivory spinning fiber.
His right hand holds a thick wooden needle with one end of the fiber through the large eye, and in his left is a swatch of what appears to be knitted fabric.
I stop midstride, doing a double take from his face to his hands then back again. “You’re … knitting?” My voice comes out embarrassingly high.
Odgar shrugs his broad shoulders, chuckling softly. “Nalbinding. It’s similar.”
I will my mouth closed and fix my face into a hopefully unperturbed expression. This warrior prince is sitting in a public space, casually engaging in a domestic hobby. I bite back the bark of laughter that threatens to escape. As I grasp the back of a chair to turn it, Callum steps forward.
“Allow me, Princess!” he says hurriedly. I step away, briefly catching a glimpse of his pinched expression as he turns the chair for me.
“Thank you, Callum.” I sit and Callum steps aside, his jaw set firmly.
Odgar sets his nalbinding behind him on the table and turns, his full attention on me.
“I’d expected you to have already departed,” I tell him. I quickly glance at the clock on the wall then back to Odgar.
His smile is endearingly crooked when it reappears, and I stare at his lips for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“I am actually setting sail soon,” he says. “I wanted to say goodbye first, but I didn’t want to summon you if you were busy.”
I start to gnaw on my lip but force myself to stop. “Prince Odgar …” I start formally.
His posture straightens, and he leans toward me very slightly.
My gaze skims over the tattoos on one shaven side of his head, then down to those captivating sunburst eyes of his. “About the attack during the Feast. I hope that doesn’t completely shatter the prospect of a possible union. Should you be my chosen suitor and should you … agree.”
I’m not sure what I expected from him, but it wasn’t laughter. It echoes through the dining hall with an almost musical quality. My heart drops and I clench my hands in my lap, fighting the desire to fidget while he doesn’t even bother to regain his composure.
“Erleyans are so concerned with appearance,” Odgar says.
I unclasp my hands and wrinkle my nose, leaning back. “Pardon me?” I shift my focus to the clock again, then back to Odgar.
A smile graces Odgar’s lips once more, and he lowers his head, shaking it slightly. When he raises his head again, his expression is adamant, yet gentle. I practically melt into a puddle.
“I would love to get to know you better,” he says. “Outside of the”—he waves his large hands around—“air of perfection you’re forced to hold on to.”
My brows furrow.
“The rebel attack hasn’t scared me off. I would love to be your chosen suitor.” He leans in closer, and my breath hitches. “Between you and me, my competition was … underwhelming.” He grins before leaning back, calmly assessing me.
My traitorous lips quirk up into a smile of their own volition. “From where I was standing, it was overwhelming. I almost lost an eye or a toe a few times.”
“Gods, who was that scraggy little man prancing like a reindeer?”
I press my hand over my mouth as another bloody giggle escapes me.
“See? Appearances,” he says with a smirk, reaching out to gently lower my hand. My skin warms. “What’s wrong with laughing aloud, Raven Princess?”
I let out a forceful sigh.
“Now that’s more like it. A raw, unhindered reaction. Something real.”
“Gods,” I mutter with feigned exasperation. I glance sidelong at Callum whose jaw is clenched so tightly, I fear he’ll break his teeth. Turning to Odgar again, I say, “I believe the prancing reindeer was Prince Morand of Caldeon. Thank you for rescuing me.”
He smiles almost leisurely, and I find myself wishing for his easygoing nature. “Any time, Princess,” he says.
“How on earth can you remain so calm and collected? Even when the explosions happened, you barely flinched.”
He shrugs a broad shoulder. “I was raised a warrior, as are many Uldarans. I am not afraid of death. Nor am I of fate.”
A shiver flitters across my skin, his words replaying in my mind. “Odgar, this may sound strange but … may I ask you a few questions about Uldarvik?”
His smile widens. “Please do.”
For a while, I ask whatever comes to mind, taking mental notes as he responds with ease and proficiency.
When I’m out of questions, the silence draws attention to the clock ticking away.
I swear inwardly. Odgar stands, extending a large hand to me, his sleeves rolled back, revealing more ink against his copper skin.
“You’ve looked at the clock several times now. I imagine you have someplace to be?” he asks. His voice draws me back to his face, to the braid peeking over his shoulder, brassy blond curls escaping it.
“Unfortunately, I do.” I slip my hand into his, and he gently pulls me to my feet.
His lips lightly brush the back of my hand, and my heart gives an unnecessarily hard thump. Godsdamned … His sparkling gaze finds mine. My lips part, but emit no words.
The sound of footsteps cuts through the silence, and I tug my hand away, putting space between us.
Iywan stands in the doorway of the dining hall. He quickly covers his pinched expression with a smile, his voice hollow as he says, “Good afternoon, Your Highnesses.” He bows so deeply that I quirk a brow.
“Good afternoon, Lord Iywan. I was just bidding Princess Carys farewell. Many thanks for your hospitality on behalf of me and my right-hand man. He is out enjoying the garden as we speak. I will be sure to tell King Freyr about your wonderful Feast and the lovely Princess Carys.” Odgar’s tone has changed from friendly to formal, but his body language remains relaxed. I envy him.
“I am glad to hear it,” says Iywan. “I heard there are sweets in the kitchen. I hope you will take some for your travels.”
“How could I decline such a delicious offer?” Odgar rocks back on his feet, beaming at Iywan.
Iywan chuckles but, again, it sounds hollow. He bows once more, says a quick goodbye, and leaves. My brows furrow, and I remain staring at the spot where Iywan stood a moment ago. Had he truly come in here for sweets, or did he somehow learn of my whereabouts and came to investigate?
It’s likely the latter.
I turn back to Odgar, finding it in me to smile at him once more. “Safe travels. I hope we’ll meet again.”
“May fate bring us back together, Raven Princess,” Odgar replies with a small dip of his head.
I turn to walk away, and Callum follows along. The council meeting starts soon, I never got anything to eat in the end, but I need to gather my composure and mentally prepare. As we walk back toward my bedchamber, Callum is rigid at my side.
“For the gods’ sake, Callum. Speak your mind.”
“Do you truly see yourself marrying someone like Odgar?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say automatically. I chance a glance at Callum, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“He may make you happy.” His voice sounds strained, but he has the grace to fake a smile.
I nod and take a deep breath. “Perhaps.”