Strian took Gressa’s hand once more and stepped away from the wall. They turned to walk towards Strian’s home, but they only made it a dozen steps before Gressa stepped toward a building a few over from Strian’s home.
“Where are you going?” Strian had a sneaking suspicion.
“To the servants’ quarters.”
“You don’t need to live there.”
“I do. You brought me here as a thrall, and while you may have made me a free woman, I am still a servant.”
Strian stared at her as though she was a puzzle to be solved.
“You aren’t a servant. You are a wife and a shield maiden. Your home is with me, and you belong in the training yard with the other women.”
“I might be one but not the other.”
Strian swiped a hand through his hair before scrubbing his face with it.
“You want to go to sleep, unprotected, in the exact same building as the women who just attacked you. Is that what I’m supposed to understand? Because that is both crazy and stupid.”
Gressa clenched her teeth and hissed, “I may be crazy, and I may be stupid. I might even still be a shield maiden, but I am not your wife. I’m not your problem. You don’t get to dictate to me. When will you understand that?”
“When you can tell me you don’t love me.”
Eight
Gressa felt as though Strian knocked the air from her. Strian had played his hand well and knew it. Gressa would not lie to him, and she knew she had already admitted it twice. It was the truth, but it did not change the circumstances in which they found themselves. At least, it did not in Gressa’s mind.
“Gressa, I will continue to sleep by the hearth and you in the chamber. I will not touch you unless you ask me to, and I won’t pressure you. But you aren’t safe sleeping anywhere else.”
“If my safety is in such danger, then let me go.”
“I would feel the same way about Bjorn or Leif. I would offer the same to Tyra or Freya. Even if you never agree to be my wife again, I will never turn you out to fend for yourself. If for no other reason than our past. You were my family.”
Gressa stood without moving or speaking for so long Strian was convinced she would turn him down. But she saw the sensibility in Strian’s offer, and she knew her resolve was running out. Even in her own mind, the reasons to push Strian away were thinning to strands she could not grasp. Continuing to argue with Strian about their living arrangements was only a matter of pride. She knew she would give in to all Strian’s demands if she agreed to live with him. She wanted to, but as much as a life with Strian called to her, her home in Wales called just as loudly. She could not plant roots here that had already been severed. She needed to return to Wales. Perhaps, if she could repair some damage to her relationship with Strian, he might let her go. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was ludicrous. Strian would never voluntarily let her go, so she hoped she could convince him to travel with her even if she refused to admit to her reasons.
“I will accept your offer under those conditions, but only those.” She cocked an eyebrow in defiance, her pride still holding her hostage.
“Very well. But there is one more thing. Gressa, I can’t overlook the danger you are in. And it exists only because I insisted you return here. Perhaps I should have let you remain in Scotland to return with the other warriors to Wales. But I could not see reason. I could only see the woman I have loved for half my life, the woman who was my wife. Gressa, for your safety, please consider letting the others believe we’ve reconciled, let others believe we are still married. You will have the protection of my name. You will always have the protection of my sword, but this will keep anyone from questioning you.”
“Strian, that asks too much. You would have us lie to everyone? And if, no when because it’s inevitable, they discover we’ve been deceiving them, then what?”
“Why would anyone know? What we do or don’t do in our home is our business. If we can stand to be cordial to one another in public, then what is there to question? It would allow you to train again which is when you would spend the most time in public. You wouldn’t even be training with me.”
“And when we dine with the others?”
“We are newly reconciled. Much like newlyweds, why would we want to leave the privacy of our home?”
“So, you would have everyone think you’re fucking me like rabbits?” Gressa’s temper flared at the notion that others would think she was little more than a bed slave even if Strian called her his wife.
“I would have them think I am making love to my wife. A wife everyone knows I have grieved for. A wife everyone knows I never recovered from losing. A wife more beautiful than any other woman in this tribe. Who would blame me?”
Gressa looked around and noticed for the first time that they were drawing attention from the few people milling about and those leaving the evening meal. She saw the suspicious expressions. She noticed a handful of women glaring at her, and she knew it was because Strian had staked his very public claim by coming to her defense. His anger had not surprised her, not even his violence that killed the other man in front of the entire tribe. He had always been protective of her. She realized now, though, there would be others who did not view their reconciliation with as much eagerness as Strian did. While there were several other handsome men in the tribe, women had always considered Strian the most attractive. She knew from the women he had bedded before her. They had been equally good looking, and they had said more than one unkind word when Strian chose her over the others before they wed. She recognized these looks of envy and covetousness. While Strian believed he might protect her from everyone in the tribe who wished her harm, she knew his protection would only extend to the men. Their relationship, whatever it might be, would fuel the fire of the women’s hatred and put her in more danger.
“The women would blame me.”
Strian followed her gaze to the women who observed them, and he knew she was right. He had heard the hateful things these same women had said when they were barely more than girls and Strian pursued Gressa. He had been moved to action when the five women cornered Gressa, and it had only been Freya’s intervention that kept him from violence towards them. He took her hand and led her to the side of a nearby building where no one could watch them. He was unconvinced that she would return to their longhouse.
“Good thing for you, you have Freya’s protection.”
