Chapter Nine #2
Ketill looks at Baldr.
Baldr looks at the ceiling.
Traitors. All of them.
The passage beyond the dining room runs beneath dark beams and narrow lamps. No painted walls. No bright hangings. It’s still beautiful. Dark wood, black stone, and little pieces of silver fitted into every hinge.
We reach the stairs.
Ketill stays at the bottom. “I have six books waiting to disappoint me.”
“I hope they’re interesting,” I tell him.
“They’re numbers.”
“Then I hope they stay in the right columns.”
His eyes warm. “So do I.”
Asta starts up with Snowpetal.
“Lady Asta.”
She turns two steps above him.
Ketill rests one hand on the newel post. “The laugh wasn’t at her.”
“Then next time, explain before I have to ask.”
“There’ll be a next time?”
“You seem poorly supervised.”
She keeps climbing.
Ketill watches her reach the landing.
Then he notices me watching him.
I smile.
His eyes narrow.
Excellent.
The west rooms are larger than my chamber in Sólvik and colder near the windows. Someone has unpacked our bags, hung my purple cloak beside the wardrobe, and placed the stuffed unicorn on the pillow.
Snowpetal launches from Asta’s arms, hits the bed, and comes up with the unicorn’s crooked horn in her mouth.
I catch her before she can shake it. “That’s mine.”
Snowpetal puts one paw on the unicorn’s face.
“My grandmother made her.”
She growls.
I pull. Snowpetal pulls. The unicorn makes a dangerous ripping sound.
“No.”
The horn comes free. I fall backward with the unicorn against my chest.
Snowpetal stands over my legs and lashes her tail.
“You share. I know how to.”
Baldr leans against the open door between his room and mine. His coat’s gone. The top ties of his tunic are open, and his hair’s come loose from the leather at his neck.
I forget what I was telling the Sanguir.
Asta follows my eyes.
“I’m going to bed.”
“Good night.”
“In the next room.”
“I know where your room is.”
“The wall is thin.”
My face gets hot.
Baldr looks at the wall.
Asta points at him. “Don’t test it.”
“I had no plans for the wall.”
“Keep it that way.”
She crosses into her room and closes the door.
I stare after her.
Baldr steps into mine. “She likes me.”
“Very much.”
He closes the door between our rooms.
Snowpetal moves to the edge of the bed and bares every tooth at him.
“She likes you too,” I say.
“That’s not what this looks like.”
“Snowpetal.” I set the unicorn behind my pillow. “Baldr’s allowed near the bed. He’s not food.”
Baldr looks down at himself. “A comfort.”
I hold out my hand.
He comes close enough to take it.
Snowpetal growls again when he bends to kiss me.
Baldr straightens.
I look at her.
“We’re going to have a problem.”
She sits.
I climb off the bed, take the last strip of dried meat from my travel bag, and lay it on the rug beside the hearth.
Snowpetal watches my hand.
“This is your bed.”
She looks at the meat.
Then at my bed.
“You have a fire.”
Her nose moves.
“And no one will touch the unicorn.”
Snowpetal jumps down, collects the meat, and turns three circles on the rug. She lies with her chin on both front paws and the strip held between them.
“See?”
Baldr looks at the Sanguir, then at me. “You bribed her.”
“I explained the benefits.”
“With meat.”
“She’s a practical animal.”
His hand closes around my waist.
“Now,” I whisper, “before she changes her mind.”
Baldr kisses me.
He still smells of the road—cold air, leather, and three days without a razor scratching my cheek. His mouth is warm. My fist closes in his tunic, and I tug him between my knees.
Snowpetal crunches the dried meat behind us.
I ignore her.
Baldr’s hands slide up my back. He finds the top button of my dress and stops.
“How many?”
“Eleven.”
“Asta’s getting careless.”
“The other dress is at Sólvik.”
“Twenty-three.”
“You remember.”
“I had reason.”
He turns me around and opens the first one. Then he kisses the back of my neck.
By the fifth button, I’m holding my hair over one shoulder and trying not to make enough noise for Asta to hear through the thin wall.
Baldr gets to the last one. The dress loosens.
I turn and pull his tunic over his head.
His hair catches in the collar. I free it, run both hands through the light-brown strands, and push them back from his face.
Baldr looks down at me.
He cups my cheek. “Tired?”
“I was.”
His eyes move over me.
“And now?”
I push the dress from my shoulders. “Less.”
His laugh stays quiet against my mouth.
We get the rest of our clothes off without falling, which may be the most impressive thing I’ve done today.
Baldr lays me back across the bed.
The mattress sinks beneath his knee. The frame doesn’t creak.
“Good wood,” he whispers.
I cover my mouth before the laugh escapes.
He kisses my fingers, my wrist, then the inside of my elbow. His mouth moves down my chest. When it closes over my nipple, I stop laughing.
“Baldr.”
He takes his time.
I pull at his shoulders. “You’re very far away.”
“Am I?”
His mouth reaches my stomach.
Oh. “You said next time.”
He lifts his head. “You remember.”
“I had reason.”
His mouth brushes my inner thigh.
My hands close in the blanket.
“Quiet,” I remind him.
“That part’s yours.”
Terrible man.
His mouth settles between my legs.
I bite the blanket.
He starts slow. His hands close around my thighs while his tongue finds the place his fingers learned in Sólvik.
I make a sound into the wool.
The bed remains silent.
The wall probably doesn’t.
He does it again, firmer, and my hips lift from the mattress.
“There.”
He stays there.
Baldr remembers everything that helps another person and far too many things that embarrass me.
One finger slides inside me, then another when I open for him. He curls them and watches my face from between my thighs.
I put the blanket over my mouth.
His eyes laugh.
I kick his shoulder.
That makes him laugh too, and the vibration goes through me.
Oh.
I grab his hair with both hands and hold him there. He has the nerve to look pleased before his mouth gets serious again.
My toes curl into the blanket. His fingers keep the rhythm. His tongue presses exactly where I need it.
I come with my knees tight around his head and one heel digging into his back.
The blanket saves Asta from most of it.
Probably.
His lips touch my knee while I remember how my legs work.
“You kept your record.”
“Barely.”
“Should I stop?”
I pull him up by the hair. “No.”
He comes over me, smiling, and I kiss the smile away.
His weight settles across my body. My legs lock at his waist, and he’s hard against me.
“Now,” I whisper.
Baldr guides himself inside.
There’s no first-time sting tonight. Only the slow stretch, the heat of him, and his breath leaving against my cheek when I take all of him.
We stay quiet for one breath.
Then I move.
He makes a rough sound.
“The wall,” I tell him.
“Your fault.”
“You’re inside me.”
“Your fault.”
I laugh against his mouth.
He pulls back and pushes in deep enough to end the laugh. My nails drag over his shoulders. His hand slides beneath my hip, lifting me into the next stroke.
We find the rhythm faster this time. I know where to put my legs. He knows where to touch me.
Baldr kisses my throat and chin until we’re breathing too hard for it. I hold him close until slow stops being enough.
“Faster.”
He gives me faster.
The headboard taps the wall once.
We freeze.
From the other side, Asta knocks twice.
I press my face into Baldr’s shoulder.
His whole body shakes.
“Don’t laugh.”
That makes it worse.
“She’ll hear you.”
“She already did.”
I bite his shoulder.
His hips drive into me.
I forget Asta.
Baldr keeps one hand over my mouth when I come again. His name catches against his palm. He follows three strokes later, face pressed into my neck, and pulls out before the last one.
Heat spills over my stomach.
For a while, the only sounds in the room are our breathing and Snowpetal licking one paw near the fire.
Baldr lifts his head. “The wall survived.”
Two knocks come through it again.
I close my eyes.
“I’m never going home.”
“We have three days.”
I open them. “That was cruel.”
“I learned from my brother.”
“You’re nothing alike.”
I say it too quickly.
Baldr stops smiling. His eyes go toward the wall beyond the bed.
“No,” he agrees. “We are not.”
He gets a cloth and cleans us both. Then he checks the door latch, the windows, and the white predator asleep on the rug.
Snowpetal opens one eye when he comes close.
Baldr stops beyond the reach of her tail. “Still not food.”
She closes it.
Progress.
He climbs back into bed. I tuck the unicorn safely against the wall and settle beside him. His arm comes around my waist. One leg traps both of mine beneath the blanket.
Snowpetal leaves the hearth after the fire burns low. She jumps onto the foot of the bed, circles over Baldr’s ankles, and curls there.
He looks down.
“She likes you.”
“She’s pinning my feet.”
“Affection can be complicated.”
His chest moves against my back when he laughs.
The room goes quiet after that. Baldr’s breathing evens out with one hand spread over my stomach. Snowpetal purrs against his ankle. I close my eyes and listen to the hall settle around us.
Sleep doesn’t come.