I watched as he tucked her close to his side, smiling down at her.
Little Mirja grabbed his nose, but he didn’t seem to mind. He let the baby grab and explore his face as though he were a toy made just for her.
“Well, I think my womb just did cartwheels.”
My gaze whipped to Kerstin. I hadn’t even heard her approach, so riveted by the scene of the pride’s oldest engaging with the pride’s youngest.
“What?”
She nodded to Vetr, her mouth curling in a grin. “Watching him with a baby … the idea of pushing one out is not nearly so objectionable. I’m certain the making of it would be a good time.”
I snorted out a laugh and shook my head. “You’re too much.”
“At least if the father was Vetr,” she added, as though that was an important distinction.
I stopped laughing and stared across the large gathering area at the duo, imagining the child in his arms was his. What kind of father would he make? I gave my head a small shake. The question should not have entered my mind, as the answer did not matter. It had nothing to do with me.
“Isn’t he a little old for you to think about him that way?” I asked, nodding once at Vetr.
“Oh. He’s notthatold. And I’ll be of age soon enough.” Twin lines formed between her eyebrows then, as though being old enough to choose a mate wasn’t necessarily a prospect she wanted. I could well understand that. It was not a fate I had wanted, but I’d accepted it. And that was what I heard now in Kerstin’s voice. The sound of it unsettled me, tossed me back in time to when I’d been told what my duty would be.
“You’re only sixteen,” I offered. “Surely you have time.”
“Not as much as you think.” She looked away, consternation still on her face as she glanced at the group sitting near the fire, their deep voices talking and overlapping on the air as they went about cleaning weapons. Nayden was in that group, for once not casting me a glare. “But it’s not as though Vetr has any interest in me. I will have to settle for one of them.” This last thing she uttered with heavy disgust.
I swallowed, trying not to think about the fact that Vetr had declared his interest inmevery distinctly. I held that inside myself, close to where I kept all things secret.
Staring at Kerstin, I thought instead of Alise. They were of similar age and Alise had already been tossed into marriage. It was too late for her, but hopefully Kerstin had time before giving herself over to matrimony … or motherhood.
But when you were young and female, no one asked for your preferences.
Was that the fate of young women everywhere? Here. In Penterra. North of the Crags in Veturland. Across the Dark Channel in Acton. In the far-off Isle of Meru. Tying yourself to someonenotof your choosing. Your worth only measured by the effectiveness of your womb. And yet I knew that not everyone was subject to this. I had a flash of the valiant Mari, one of many sword maidens in Fell’s army. No one forced any of those women to take a husband. In the Borg, women seemed to have more autonomy—at least they had. Before Stig.
Kerstin looked away from the group by the fire and back to Vetr across the room again. “Wouldn’t you choose him? If you had to choose someone?”
If I had to choose someone—
Was that what it had come to? Would I eventuallyhaveto choose someone in order to stay here and be part of this community, this family as Vetr called it? Was I only now realizing that? Grasping what this girl of sixteen already understood to be true?
I worried my lower lip with my teeth and nodded distractedly. “I suppose.” I forced my gaze away from Kerstin, looking down at my basket of neatly folded clothing as though it was a thing of fascination.
Kerstin pressed. “Obviously you think he’s attractive.”
My gaze snapped back to her, alarm skittering at my pulse points. “Why … obviously?”
Had I done or said something to give anyone the idea that I thought of Vetr that way? As a potential mate?
She looked at me as though it was the most logical thing in the world, saying with a shrug, “His twin brother was your mate. They looked the same.”
Of course. My alarm subsided into a steady rhythm at my throat.
“Oh. Fell was my husband, but our marriage was … arranged.” That was the easiest explanation. No need to explain how our union had been founded on lies and a contemptible fraud. “There was nochoosinginvolved.” For either of us really. Fell thought he was choosing someone else when he got burdened with me, and the betrayal of that had colored our entire relationship.
“So you didn’t find him attractive?”
“I … didn’t say that.” My cheeks warmed as I recalled our wedding night … the bedding ceremony. There was that most memorable night, and those other times—all establishing just how attractive I found Fell. During the crossing. The nights in our shared bed in the Borg when I would lie aching beside him. Not touching, not coming together because I was a dragon and—I thought—he was not.
And then there was the last time we were together. Immediately following our first flight. In that moment, his sweat still on my skin, his taste on my lips, the blood burning in my veins, I’d told myself, whatever happened, whatever followed, we would have each other.
