Erik turned away before that thought could sink roots any deeper than it already had. Before he did something stupid like cross that distance and find out if she’d welcome him or put a blade through his ribs.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“The envoy’s on his way up,” Aksel said quietly when Erik cracked the door in the morning. “Thought ye’d appreciate a word of warnin’.”
Behind him, Claricia’s voice came thick with sleep. “Already? Och… the man’s like mold on bread… just when ye think ye’ve got rid of it, there it is again!”
The envoy swept in moments later, and Claricia’s heart stuttered against her ribs despite every attempt to appear calm. She sat wrapped in blankets like some trembling maiden from a ballad, trying to look like a properly consummated bride instead of a woman who’d spent her wedding night alone save for a stubborn Viking sleeping in a chair.
Breathe. Ye can dae this!
The envoy’s gaze went immediately to the bed, to the stain. His eyes narrowed with what looked like satisfaction, but something about the way he studied it made her skin prickle.
“Very well. The marriage appears to be consummated as required.” He rolled the parchment in his hands, then paused. The silence stretched too long. “Perhaps you might join me for breakfast before I depart for Edinburgh?”
Claricia felt every muscle in her body tense. That wasn’t a satisfied man. That was a man testing them.
“Of course.” Erik’s voice came smooth as silk over steel. “We’d be honored.”
“Excellent. Shall we say within the hour?” The envoy’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I do so enjoy a proper meal before a long journey.”
The moment the door closed behind him, the air in the chamber felt thick enough to choke on.
“That wasnae him believin’ us, was it?” The words escaped before she could stop them, quiet and far more uncertain than she wanted to sound.
Erik moved to the window, and she watched the morning light catch in his hair, turning it to pale gold. “Nae,” he said finally. “That was him buyin’ time tae decide if he believes us.”
“Great.” She stood, wrapping the woolen shawl tighter around herself. Her hands trembled slightly. “So, we’ve bought ourselves an hour before… what? He drags me back tae Edinburgh in chains? Has us both executed fer fraud against the crown?”
“I dinnae ken.” He turned to look at her properly, and the weight of that storm-grey gaze made her breath catch. “Ye should dress. Whatever he wants, we’ll face it taegether.”
“Strange how that wee word keeps comin’ up,” she said, aiming for sharp but hitting somewhere closer to bewildered.
“Aye, well. Ye’re stuck with me now.” Something almost like warmth flickered in his expression. “Might as well get used tae it.”
Despite everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the fact that sheshouldhate this man—her lips twitched. “Ye ken that just because I cannaecurrentlythink of worse fates, they dae exist.”
“That tongue of yers could fell oak, woman.”
“One of me finer qualities.” She moved toward the wardrobe where Liv had hung her things, acutely aware of him watching her. Heat crept up her neck. “Now leave me alone so I can dress. Unless ye want tae explain tae the envoy why we’re late because ye were standin’ about like some… some…”
“Besotted fool?”
The words stopped her cold. She turned, found him watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Something warm and dangerous curled low in her belly.
“I was goin’ tae say lecherous beast, but aye, that works too.”
He left without another word, but she could have sworn she saw his lips curve.
An hour later, they entered the Great Hall to find the envoy already seated at the high table, breaking his fast with what looked like genuine enthusiasm. Claricia’s stomach churned.
They ate in a silence so tense she thought it might crack like ice. Every glance the envoy cast their way felt like a blade testing for weakness. Beside her, Erik sat with that infuriating calm, but she could feel the coiled tension in him—a wolf pretending to be domesticated.
She pushed food around her trencher, unable to swallow past the knot in her throat.
Finally—after what felt like hours, the envoy set down his cup and folded his hands on the table.
“I must confess,” he said with careful precision, “His Majesty has been quite… specific in his requirements regarding these marriages. The Lairds’ Pact is of utmost importance to the stability of the realm.”
