Chapter 5
AURA
Blackwood Estate, Treland
As they approach Blackwood Estate, Uncle Slode seems to relax at the sight of Calder and slips back through the front door just before it bursts open again. Sigvid Thordsson jumps down the steps and meets them in two strides, his arms reaching for Aura.
She senses the Jarl flinch beneath her. His muscles tense as if he hesitates to surrender the Princess to her father.
“Where were you?” Sigvid’s piercing blue eyes narrow at Aura before flicking to his trusted Drengr, clutching her to his chest as if she were in danger. Even in the presence of the King, he is reluctant to release her.
“Avardsson, how did you two meet?” Sigvid points between them momentarily before shaking his head, waving it off. “You must have just arrived in port. Take her inside.” He gestures to the large A-frame.
Calder nods and crosses the threshold of her home and into the central hearth, where large triangular window panes frame the front and back.
Treating her as if she were made of glass, he gently places her in Sigvid’s oversized chair.
She feels his gaze lingering on her even after his warm touch departs from her body. “Thank you,” she mutters.
He leans down, his hot breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “Use your words, Princess.”
She feels her eyelids flutter and her core tighten. “Thank you, Jarl Calder.”
“You are welcome.” He stands swiftly as her father joins them.
“Aura!” Queen Avina rushes over and throws her arms around her daughter, leaving the youngest princess with a heavy sense of guilt settling in her gut for worrying them.
“Thank you, Calder. You continue to act as the sentinel shadow for our family.” Avina presses a kiss to Aura’s forehead.
The Iss Drengr slips away toward the staircase leading to Blackwood’s second floor.
Is he staying here?
Her older siblings, Bjorn and Thora, thunder down the stairs past him, both tugging at Aura.
“I’m so sorry, little sis,” Thora whispers in her ear before Bjorn yanks her into his arms.
“I am beyond pleased you did not die.” He squeezes her tightly.
Even though her older siblings were thirteen winters older than she and were adopted at different times, the trio had developed a deep and unshakeable bond that rivaled that of blood relatives.
Sigvid leans over the back of the chair, wrapping her in his arms. “I am relieved you returned to us.” He tickles the top of her head with a kiss.
“Do not ever fucking pull that shit again.” His warning aims to frighten, yet the irony is that she is his daughter.
It would take much more than words to intimidate the Princess of Treland.
“Now,” Sigvid settles into the chair opposite her. “Tell us what happened.”
After an agonizing retelling of her ex-lover’s betrayal to her family, her father rises and begins to pace, stroking his beard with that intense expression of his.
She glances around as her sister and brother settle into their seats in the central room, while her mother sits on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her.
Calder and her uncles are nowhere to be found.
Her stomach sinks as she realizes they are in a close family meeting.
Sigvid stands in front of the crackling hearth, his back to them in an eerily familiar way that has Aura praying to the gods that Calder returns and sweeps her off to anywhere else but here.
“A majority of the Drengr Army stationed in Salt are out scouring the land for that fucking bitch. We are on lockdown in Blackwood until she is dead or safely in Toftlund Jail.” He cracks his neck for effect, and Aura rolls her eyes.
If he would let her search for Isabel, she might be able to locate that backstabbing cunt.
“No one leaves Blackwood until I have answers.” He finally turns to face them, and Aura squirms in her chair at the sheer exhaustion visible on his face.
Fuck, I did this.
“Uncle Sig, I must leave the home to lead the Drengr. Surely, you cannot force me to stay.” Thora protests. “You can use Bjorn and me.”
Sigvid and Slode helped Thora’s father, Steinbjorn, raise her until his death in the War between the Timber and Salt Provinces. Not long after the conclusion of the War for Treland, the King and Queen of Treland adopted Thora and then Bjorn before welcoming the birth of Aura.
Even twenty winters later, Sigvid is still ‘Uncle Sig’ to Thora.
“I know.” Sigvid strokes his long auburn braid. “We will discuss that later.”
“Aura,” her mother leans forward, her finger twirling that same loose curl she has twisted for decades, “what was that girl’s surname?”
“Isabel Kilton.” Thora sits with her arms crossed and her legs spread apart, her forest green eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Isabel Kilton of Timber. She was at the top in her Drengr training class and completed her Trials with flying colors. A young woman I anticipated would one day rise through the ranks.”
“Kilton?” Avina sits up straighter. “Timber? Are you certain?” Her voice wavers, and Aura feels like she cannot sink any lower.
Please, Goddess of Wisdom, Grandma Maeve, do not allow this to be another person who has hurt Mum.
Thora nods.
Sigvid paces, stroking his beard. “Kilton. Kilton. Kilton.” He whispers in that gruff, deep way that signals the awakening of his berserker side.
As he ceases to pace and directs his attention to her Mum, who looks up at the exact moment, Aura realizes that her life is about to come crashing down.
“Thora,” his voice is so low, Aura curls deeper into the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs. “How could you fucking allow a Manchineel into my Drengr Army!” His bellow trembles her hands.
Her older sister leaps to her feet, looking the youngest Aura has ever seen, the Lady Commander. “It cannot be!” Thora shakes her head, and Aura’s blood runs cold.
“Miriela Kilton was Rendel Manchineel’s favorite mistress. I once caught him with her in the gardens of the Sapphire Palace.” Avina twists her curl. “The same night I met your father.”
King Rendel Manchineel was her Mum’s first husband, who abused her in cruel and unusual ways. Father decapitated him on the battlefield, which led to her parents' official meeting as warring commanders, separate, of course, from their first encounter at Mum’s engagement party.
How romantic, her sarcasm slips into her reminiscing.
The Manchineel clan loathes the Sigvidsson-Redwoods for the deaths of both Rendel and his cousin Samson, who caused a great deal of harm to her Mum and Uncle Grim. Even now, the Drengr thwarted at least a dozen assassination attempts on her parents since Aura’s birth.
“Uncle Sig,” Thora holds up her shaky hands as he descends upon her. “I sent men to appraise her family. She lives with her mother in Pinewater. Nothing was amiss. I had no reason to suspect anything was wrong.”
“What about asking your father for her identity?” Even her Mum’s voice has risen to a rare shriek. “Or Uncle Grim, Uncle Slode, or me? When was the last time someone from Timber even trained to be a Drengr?” She sounds delirious, and the shame crashing over Aura is enough to drown her.
How did I not suspect Isabel? There were plenty of suspicious moments. Instead of considering my family's well-being, I only thought of myself and how to avoid judgment or my father’s ire regarding who I was cavorting with.
“Isabel seeks revenge for Rendel. She mentioned having bigger plans than dealing with me.” Aura mutters.
Avina buries her head in her hands.
“I hate to disappoint the heir of fucking Rendel, but she will not be exacting revenge on this family. I will ensure she pays for this.” With a sigh, Sigvid strokes his braid while muttering, “I knew we should have burned that fucking province to the ground.”
They all fall silent as the weight of their situation descends upon them like a storm cloud.
“I need to speak with Aura alone.” Her father’s gruff voice booms throughout the high ceilings of the central room.
Before Thora steps away, she approaches him. “Am I still Lady Commander?”
“We will discuss that later.”
Thora steps back. Her typically emotionless features fill scrunch in apprehension.
Bjorn wraps an arm around her shoulders and tugs her toward the kitchens, no doubt to secretly pick the lock of Sigvid’s cabinet of quality mead.
More importantly, they will want to eavesdrop on this upcoming discussion.
Sigvid settles onto the couch after kissing Aura’s mother with enough passion to curdle her stomach.
While she respects their love and how it blossomed from hatred, she still doesn’t need to see it on display—not when that kind of connection will never happen for her, considering that every man is afraid of Sigvid’s wrath.
She expects that he will want to discuss the Trial and her transgressions related to Isabel. “I didn’t know the truth about her identity. I’m so sorry for putting us at risk.”
He raises a hand. “That is not entirely what I wish to discuss.”
Her heart sinks.
“Kid, I am so fucking sorry. I was not fast enough to stop your Trial before it started. I always read the battle requests ahead of time. Your sister,” he sighs, “fuck, she deserves more from me than I have given her. But I need you to know… there is honor in walking away.”
“Pops?” This is unlike any advice he has ever given. And that man has barely stopped talking since she was born.
His eyes soften. “Your life is more important than anything else on this godsforsaken continent. I love you, and if you had died, I would have razed a few cities to the ground.” He takes her face in his hands. “There is honor in walking away.”
Her bottom lip quivers as she nods, and he kisses her forehead before leaning back in his chair. “Now, I want to discuss your…liaisons. Aura, they are not good.”
Ouch.
“The bedfellows you keep end in utter disaster-”
“No!” She leaps to her feet, jabbing her finger in his face. “I resent your accusations! After as many women as Bjorn brings to his bed, how dare you pass judgment on me?” She curls her lip in disgust.
What a low insinuation, even for him.
“And what about the drunken tavern wenches you had before Mum? How dare you hide behind her good graces, hoping it will quell the rumors of your own ‘liaisons.’ You don’t deserve her decency or virtue.”
“Whoa!” Sigvid leans back, having the dignity to appear taken aback.
“Aura, first of all, Bjorn does not have attachments. He finds willing women. They fuck and leave. Like your brother, I left no loose ends in my youth. No mistakes.” He growls out, and she knows he is insinuating her recent fuck up.
“None of my past matters because your mother became the center of my godsdamn world.”
She crosses her arms and shakes her head. “Is that what you wish of me, Pops? To wait around for a Prince to kidnap me and drag me to his realm against my will?”
Sigvid cracks his neck. “I want you to find someone who loves you fiercely enough that they would be willing to do anything to protect you.”
“I like how you spin that.” Her hands ball into fists. “Is that how Mum justifies it?”
He leans forward, his jaw throbbing, in an attempt to remain calm.
“Aura,” if he could breathe fire, smoke would spew from his nostrils.
“You become too attached to people who could give a fuck about you. You fluctuate between these men and women, hoping one might stick. And each time you are hurt, you retreat further into yourself.”
She sucks in a breath. With an exhale, she stumbles back into her chair. “I,” she looks away, unable to meet her father’s gaze, “did not realize you observed my life so critically.”
He softens in only the way he can for her. “You are my daughter. Have you any idea how many people I have fucking killed for you?”
She swallows, not wanting to know, yet suspecting as much. Several young Drengr who had courted her in the past, all in an effort to rub elbows with her father, have vanished unexpectedly.
“What is your point? To belittle me for falling hard for Isabel? I cannot change the fact that many of the people who express interest in me only use me to get to you!” She lets her mead horn of resentment overflow. “Isabel was the first person who wanted me.” She taps her chest.
He shifts closer to her. “I understand my reputation has made growing up difficult for you. Fucking people manipulate you to seek rapport with me. I hate that it has been this burdensome for you, Kid. What I would not give for us all to live out our days on the farm with no disturbances.”
Her shoulders shake as the boiling emotion floods her mind. “I have no companions!” The tears collect on her lap. “Becoming a Drengr was meant to solidify my role in the family. And now I am nothing.” She buries her head in her hands.
He envelops her in his arms, tugging her close to his chest. “You are everything to us. The prophesied child whose line will live forever.” He teases.
“If I do not get us all killed first.” She mutters nasally.
“I will not allow that to fucking happen.”
She lays her head on his shoulder, and they sit silently until her breathing evens out. Then, she pulls away, wiping her nose.
“Aura,” he chews on the inside of his mouth, brushing imaginary lint from his pants, “I hate to do this to you, but I must blacklist you from the Drengr.”
And here she thought they were having a moment.
“Anyone who has pledged to me will not be allowed to fuck you.”
She flinches at his harsh proclamation. “Oh gods, you don’t have to say it like that!”
She understands the mistake she made with Isabel, but this is absurd! Blacklisting her from the Drengr? It is an archaic practice that his early warriors used to prevent their friends from bedding women of interest or family members.
“Why…why would you do this to me?”
Gods, this is mortifying. Even her friends will stop communicating with her. Not only could she not become a Drengr, but now she could not associate with anyone without feeling shame.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe Drengr are your pick of… admirers. And it has not gone well for you.”
“Pops, blacklisting me is drastic and insulting. How do you expect me to deliver a line to live forever when you have forbidden everyone from even fucking speaking to me?” She spits.
“Fucking language, Aura!” He chastises. “Try to get to know someone first before taking them to your bed immediately. Assess their character and, perhaps, their fucking bloodline. You are welcome to continue the lineage with anyone but a Drengr.”
Sigvid stands and kisses the top of her head. “I do love you, Kid.” He saunters toward the stairs. “Blow out the sconces before you go to bed. I already dismissed all the staff.”
Aura groans and falls back in the chair.