Cenric’s gaze flicked over Brynn again. His expression remained unreadable.
“Have you finished your harvests yet?”
“About halfway.” Cenric glanced to Aelgar as he spoke, then his gaze returned to Brynn.
“You must be eager to return to them,” Aelgar said.
“It’s more raiders that concern me.” Cenric looked back to Brynn. “Our shire is usually the first to be raided.”
Brynn felt herself growing sick. Aelgar was sending her to the far north, where he knew raids were the most likely. Was this some kind of sick joke?
Aelgar took Brynn’s hand.
Brynn started at the gesture. Her uncle was not one given to shows of affection.
Aelgar was still speaking to Cenric. “I think we can finalize your wedding tonight.”
Tonight? Brynn had to fight to keep from yanking her hand out of her uncle’s grip.
So fast. This was all happening too fast.
Brynn felt dazed, as if she had been spun in circles too many times.
“That seems quick, lord.” Cenric, to his credit, sounded apprehensive.
“You have already agreed to accept Lady Brynn.” Aelgar looked over his niece. “And she has agreed to accept you.”
Brynn stared at Cenric’s boots. They were worn, the sign of a man who had places to be.
Cenric shifted. “May I speak with the lady in private, my king?”
Aelgar cocked his head at that.
Cenric looked back to Brynn. “If it pleases you.”
“If the lady allows it.” Aelgar’s tone lowered, the words clipped short, as if he was trying to remind Cenric of his place.
Interesting. Her uncle didn’t seem to like this man. Why was he having Cenric marry hisdear niecethen?
“I will allow it.” Brynn would rather not start her second marriage with an argument. “You may speak with me in private, lord.”
Cenric inclined his head sharply. “My king.” He took Brynn’s free hand and tugged her after him.
Brynn was too startled to react. He was touching her? His forwardness caught her off guard as he pulled her to the side of the room. A few people stared, but the two men who had followed him formed a protective barrier, closing them off from the others.
Cenric faced her, still fixing her in that intent stare she didn’t understand.
At least her second husband seemed to find her interesting.
Cenric
Lady Brynn was beautiful, which was another thing that didn’t make sense.
She was the daughter of the late King Eormenulf, whose praises still flowed from the lips of skalds across Hylden. Not only that, but she was a sorceress of some impressive skill, according to what he had been able to learn.
He'd waited and watched for the past few nights, but Morgi had sent no foretelling. His patron goddess usually sent warning if he was about to make any particularly bad decisions. But Morgi had seemingly failed to warn his father and brothers of their deaths, so Cenric’s trust in her these days was tenuous.
Cenric inspected Brynn closer, but he couldn’t see anything wrong. She had all her teeth, skin smooth and free of disease. She walked easily enough, so she was reasonably able-bodied. The king’s summons mentioned that she’d lost her one-year-old, so she wasn’t barren.
