“I did not ask about Valdr. I asked about you.” She deliberately cast the words back at him, needing to understand his expectations. In the past, he had not wanted her—that had been clear enough. So why had he changed his mind now?
Arik sent her a slight smile. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Strangely, his honesty was reassuring. Though it did seem like the best choice, under the circumstances. Her only concern was what benefit there was to him—especially when she could not offer a strong family alliance.
He leaned in and murmured, “I should go and let you finish your preparations. Hrafn is meeting with us to change the betrothal agreement and negotiate your bride price with my father. He will also travel with us to my uncle’s settlement.” His hand moved against her hair in a light caress. “When you return, we will finish the ceremony, and your brother will be one of the witnesses.”
Katarina nodded. But before she could depart, he caught her hand again, raising it to his lips. Such a strange gesture, to kiss her hand. But the warmth of his mouth seemed to sink within her skin, an offering of more between them. Her skin flushed at his touch.
She forced back the rise of sensation and offered, “I will be ready soon.”
After he had gone, she rubbed her hand where his lips had touched her. Instead of being afraid of him, she felt the rise of unexpected anticipation. A slight smile faltered at her mouth, and she walked outside to join the other women.
Ana, Yrsa, andMóðirGerda were waiting for her beside the longhouse. As they walked alongside her, thevolvatook her by the hand. The old woman tucked it in the crook of her arm, her thoughts seemingly preoccupied.
The early morning sky was a pale white creased with rose. There was a chill in the air, and Katarina was looking forward to the steam of the bath house. It might calm the storm of restless emotions rising within her.
“Go and prepare the bath house,”MóðirGerda ordered the women. “I will speak with the bride here.”
When the women were gone, thevolvamurmured a silent prayer to the gods, touching Katarina’s forehead, then her heart, and at last, her womb. The moment the old woman’s hand touched her there, she flinched.
“There is no reason to be afraid,”MóðirGerda said. “He will not harm you.”
Katarina believed that, and yet, her hands began to tremble. “I know it.”
“He was sent to you by the gods,” thevolvacontinued. “And though his time here is short, he will heal what was broken.”
A shudder crossed through her at that. Thevolvahad the gift of prophesy, and she wondered what the woman had seen in her visions. “What do you mean, his time is short?” Katarina didn’t want to imagine that something would happen to him.
ButMóðirGerda ignored her question. “Go inside, and let them prepare you,” the old woman said. “And when you wed the man chosen for you, you will be among the blessed ofFreya.”
She tried to brave a smile but didn’t feel it. The old woman opened the door for her, and clouds of steam rose within the air. The heat was a welcome respite from the cold air, and Yrsa helped her strip away her outer garments until she was naked.
MóðirGerda spoke another blessing upon her while Yrsa helped her to bathe. The two women helped cleanse her body, and then poured cool water over her to rinse the impurities away.
Her mother’s friend, Ana, sat down upon one of the wooden stools. “I am sorry that Kolla could not be here for you,” she began. “But as her friend, I must ask if this marriage is your choice.”
“It is,” she answered. She could not imagine wedding Leif now, after he had attacked her. And though it might be foolish, she believed that there could be a good marriage with Arik. As a young girl, she had yearned for him to notice her. It might only be an arrangement, but she believed he would keep her safe.
“You know what will happen between a man and a woman,” Ana said. “But there is much that you do not know.” From her discarded clothing, she withdrew a small vial. “Take this.”
Katarina accepted the vial and opened it. A soft herbal scent emanated from the oil, and she sent Ana a questioning look.
“Tell your new husband to spread this oil over your body when he takes you for the first time. Especially there.” She pointed to the juncture between Katarina’s legs.
Her face burned with color, for she now understood what it was for. The oil would make the joining easier. A rise of tears came to her, and she lowered her head, feigning embarrassment so they would not see her fear. But the oldvolvatook her hands and poured some of the oil upon Katarina’s palms. “Take this and anoint yourself.”
She didn’t understand whatMóðirGerda wanted, but spread some of the oil upon her stomach. The matron shook her head and took Katarina’s hands, drawing them directly to her breasts. The moment her palms touched her bare nipples, they tightened and she felt a slight ache of pleasure.
“Here,” Gerda commanded. “Spread the oil over your breasts. And then in the sacred place of the goddess Freya.”
Shame washed over her at the thought, but she understood that this was part of the wedding blessing. The old woman was trying to instruct her in what would happen, and the oil was undoubtedly meant to bring fertility.
She touched her own breasts with her oil-slicked hands, trying to do as she was ordered. Then she briefly touched herself intimately, intending to end the ritual before she revealed her terror.
But she realized what the old woman had done. The oil must have contained herbs to bring about arousal. Even now, her nipples were erect and incredibly sensitive. Between her legs, she ached, her body craving something she didn’t understand.
The women washed her hair with more cool water and combed it back, but with every minute she endured naked in the hot steam, her body grew more aroused. She wished now that she hadn’t obeyed thevolva. MóðirGerda must have known that she would resist the marriage bed, and she had given this oil as a means of drawing her back to it.
