Chapter 11 Freija #2
A smile twisted my lips. He had been listening to me last night when I’d teased him about asking nicely. I wonder how many people he did that for?
“Every other day or so.”
“Or so,” he mumbled to himself and peered around the expanse as if the treetops might shift into birds of prey and attack.
One of the bushes on the western side of the patch had a few withering leaves, so I settled onto my knees and started pruning them. If we were going to be here, I might as well get a little sprucing done.
With the breeze brushing against my cloak and the smell of the earth and pines drifting past, I got to work, plucking dead leaves within the little oasis.
“Did you request to meet any of the candidates from last night?” Halvar asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
I peered to my left and found him, arms crossed, leaning against the northern rock wall that protected the little patch from the cold winds that whipped over the mountaintop. “Only one.”
He raised an eyebrow, silently bidding me to elaborate.
Part of me didn’t want to discuss the matter, but the other part was riled with frustration.
This entire suitor saga was yet another boulder tossed into my path.
It was as if the Council, and in this case my parents too, were determined to stop me from ever completing this resources proposal as it should be done.
With a sigh, I replied, “Hans.”
“Really?”
“He seemed appropriate. Did you have concerns?”
His lips pinched together and he shook his head.
Well, that was good. “I’ve sent him a letter inviting him to visit.”
Halvar grunted, seemingly unfazed.
“Shall I make sure his guard meets with you regarding—”
“He has a guard?”
I nodded. “Apparently.” It was a little odd, but not wholly unusual. He was from a prominent family. “His father is one of the governors of the eastern mountains.”
“That wasn’t listed on his papers,” Halvar mumbled.
Shrugging, I plucked another dead leaf and set it atop my growing pile. “Our fathers have known each other for centuries.”
Halvar huffed. “Well, I will handle any security matters. Do not worry about that.”
“Thank you.”
He bobbed his head and grunted once more.
In the time we’d spent together I’d learned what some of Halvar’s little noises truly meant.
Most of them were annoyed acceptance of something that irked him, while others, like this one, meant the subject was closed—a matter he would handle.
One day I’d learn every single one of those grumbles and define each of them, perhaps even write them down in their own book.
He was such a quiet and reserved man, yet, if you paid attention and asked the right questions, he’d often relent and respond. I wonder how far that extends? Were there any subject matters he’d deem out of bounds? And, if so, why?
I wanted to shove my hand into the metaphorical soil that surrounded him, pull him out, and examine his roots.
I wanted to know who he was and what had occurred to create this beast of a being.
Perhaps he was a fine specimen, like a rose, beneath all that brooding, stoic, fearmongering.
Or, maybe he was a weed. Time would tell.
But my curiosity had sparked to life like one of the orbs of light I could wield.
A devious little plan formed in my mind and excitement flickered up my spine.
“Since we’re on the subject,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. “Do you not have a significant other? Any family members who might want you to settle down?”
“No and no.”
I stopped plucking leaves and peered up at him. “Really?”
“I’ve never been inclined and my parents passed a long time ago. Some of us are a little older than you.”
“How much older?” I reached into the bush and paused, my eyes still locked on him. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“A few centuries.”
“Oh. Well. It’s not the number of years you have lived but what you do with them that truly matters.”
He coughed.
“How did you spend that time? All on battles or was there some peace between your killing sprees?”
“My history is a scarlet stain that cannot be erased, princess.”
I sucked in a breath, my fingers wrapping around a branch in the bush. “How many?”
“Are you asking how many lives I’ve taken?”
Was I? Did I feel comfortable enough to? My pulse thrummed in my ears and my voice sounded far away as I said, “Yes.”
“More than the years I’ve been alive.”
I startled and poked my finger on a spiky branch. “Ouch.” Retracting my hand, I brought the wound to my lips. Copper seeped into my mouth.
Halvar was beside me in an instant, gently tugging at my wrist with his calloused hand. He brought my finger from my mouth and examined it. A small thorn protruded from the side.
“It’s fine,” I mumbled.
His chest rumbled like he couldn’t disagree more.
“It’s not poisonous, just sharp.”
Crouched, he flared his other hand and ripples of near-translucent magic swirled around it as a tiny blade formed.
“Are you going to kill the bush for harming me?”
“I considered it.”
A smile threatened to tilt my lips, but I bit it back as I stared at his rugged face. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him, see the lines at the corners of his eyes, and smell… Ancestors, he smelled like a fresh breeze swirling around an oak tree.
He pressed the blade against my wound, and I sucked in a breath.
“I can pluck it—”
“You’ll only wedge it in farther, like you did with your lips.”
“I— You were watching my lips?”
“Do not move.”
My spine stiffened and I obeyed, too caught up in the feeling of having him this close to me again, the concentration in his eyes, and the sharp stone blade pressing against my finger.
With a gentle squeeze, he pried the thorn loose and blew it away.
A droplet of blood bubbled up and trickled down the side of my finger.
He brushed his thumb over the wound and cast his gaze to mine.
My lips parted, but words didn’t come as we stared at each other, transfixed by the moment.
My heart beat ferociously against my chest and a flutter of something filled my stomach.
I shouldn’t be this close to him. My body shouldn’t react to him like this.
Like lightning had struck and awoken me from a long-lasting slumber.
But I was, and it did.
And I couldn’t look away.
I swallowed hard. “Do you think I’ll live?”
Those cool pools of blue warmed as he tugged me to my feet. He looked down at me, a mere hand’s width of air between our chests, the back of my neck heating.
“You will survive.” His words came out as an order and an answer. With the tip of his finger he brushed a stray hair off my forehead, lingering a little longer than was appropriate. “As for your other question—I watch everything you do, princess.”
I sucked in a breath. He couldn’t mean that the way I thought he did. Could he? I couldn’t stop my gaze from dropping momentarily to those full lips.
He stepped back, averted his gaze, and scratched behind his ear. “Come now, you do not want to be late to your Council meeting.”
Shaking my head, I tried to move away, but all I could utter was a mumbled, “N-no… Of, course.”