“Yield,” he ground out.
“Never,” she spat.
“I’m sorry.”
Gressa froze. She had not expected those being his next words.
“For what part?”
“All of it.”
Gressa’s heart broke as she saw the pain in Strian’s eyes. It was there whenever he looked at her. She had seen it disappear when he spoke to his friends and then flood back in when he saw her.
“The past is the past,” she whispered. “But I am not a spy nor was I the prince’s mistress. His wife is my friend. I realized he wasn’t mine weeks ago. You’re right. I’m sure that’s why he sent me, but I hate hearing it said aloud. It makes it real, and I can’t deny it.”
Strian stood and pulled her to her feet.
“I wish they hadn’t manipulated and used you. You don’t deserve it. Do you think your friend, the prince’s wife, knew you were being sent?”
“Of course, she did. We said our goodbyes.”
“And she didn’t warn you? Neither of you figured it out? Or did she know all along and said nothing?”
Gressa eyes widened then slammed shut. She shook her head, and when she opened them, tears streamed from them.
“She and the prince have a good marriage. She counsels him on most things. It was her idea,” Gressa choked out.
“Then who else do you have to return to? Grímr?”
Gressa bit her tongue before she said things she could not take back.
“I told you I made that choice rather than wait for him to force me. I told you I did it because he threatened to kill you. You specifically. He may have wanted Ivar, Freya, and Leif dead to claim this homestead, but he wanted you dead for the sheer pleasure of watching the life slip away from you.”
“Why would I matter that much to him? I don’t believe you.” Strian shook his head as he looked into the fathomless blue eyes he once thought he could drown in.
“It had always been your uncle Einear’s plan to kill you just as he did your father along with his wife and children. But it was his ineptitude, or at least that’s what Grímr believes, that ruined his plans. Grímr had been content to let his brother Hakin and your uncle do all the dirty work. But it was you and Leif, Freya, Tyra, and Bjorn who burned his homestead. It was Freya and Erik who discovered his wife’s slave trade. That discovery cost Grímr financially. It may have been Inga’s treachery that led to her own brother killing her. I know Rangvald had no other choice.” Gressa rushed to explain what she had learned, hoping that sharing the information would prove she was not there as a spy. What spy would give away so much?
“I still don’t see how any of this has to do with me. I wasn’t with Freya and her husband when they went scouting. I wasn’t the one to kill his bastard son. Freya was the one who caused Hakin to bleed to death. I have merely been a silent warrior through all of this.”
“You have to know that Grímr’s mind is warped. It doesn’t think like a normal person’s. He believes that you are one of Ivar’s favorites just like Tyra and Bjorn are. Ivar has always treated the three of you more like his own children than just tribe members. He wants to capture and torture you in front of the others. When I overheard two of his sons talking about all of this, I had to find out what he planned. You deduced why they sent me as the only woman before I did. Maybe I fulfilled the Welsh prince’s plans, but I didn’t do it for the prince’s alliance with Grímr.”
“Then why did you? If you really hadn’t been with another man since me, why choose Grímr?”
Gressa threw her hands up in the air.
“He gave me the choice of coming willingly or by force. Was that ever really a choice?”
“And you just happened to learn all this information about your enemy. How do I know you’re not really on Grímr’s side and you’re not filling my ears with lies?” Strian pulled the door open and then slammed it shut behind him.
“Because I love you,” Gressa whispered to an empty room.
Four
Strian did not know what to do with himself. He was hurt and furious. Furious that any man might force Gressa to service him. Hurt that she had agreed. Furious at himself for being hurt when the only other option for Grímr to rape Gressa. It hurt him that she had not tried to escape or done more to turn Grímr off. And furious that she would compromise herself to protect him when he should have been protecting her all along.
He picked up a piece of crockery from his table and smashed it into the fireplace. He was tempted to go on a rampage through his home, but he knew that would solve nothing, and he would only regret later destroying things that had been his parents’ and his while Gressa lived there. He also did not want to frighten her.
Strian built up the fire and pulled the tub before the hearth. He slipped out of his home with four buckets and a yoke. He made his way to the well and filled one bucket after another before trudging home where he heated each bucket before dumping the water into the tub. When he finished, he walked to his chamber door, the room that was once more occupied by his wife, but this time without him. He knocked twice.
