By the time she had finished her rant, she was breathless and he realised how much Heimdall must have meant to her. His hope died just as quickly as it had flickered to life. He could not find the words to answer her.
‘Do you deny killing him?’ she snapped.
It was clear she would never forgive him for killing the man she loved. He met her eyes and sealed their miserable fate. ‘I do not deny it.’
‘You haveno shamefor what you have done?’
‘None. And I would do it again.’ Turning away, he picked up his glass chalice and was about to sip from it, resolved to the grim future that lay ahead.
A knife clattered to the dais floor, metal on stone. Skadi must have dropped her eating knife. He glanced between the two thrones, but saw nothing. Skadi was staring at him expectantly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, the knuckles white as bone.
‘My eating knife… I think it landed by your feet. Please can you get it for me?’ she asked politely, which threw him far more than anything else she’d said tonight.
The thrones were made of heavy stone, so he couldn’t push back his seat to take a better look.
Putting down his chalice, he nodded and crouched down beneath the heavy tablecloth. On the dais floor he saw the knife lying on the ground a couple of feet away. It was further from their feet than he would have expected.
However, crawling beneath a table was far more pleasant than facing her accusations or that awful seat, so he shuffled around until he could reach it, then clambered back out with as much dignity as he could muster. He took the time to wipe the blade with his own untouched linen napkin.
At least it had given him a moment to consider his next words to her, ‘I am not sorry about Heimdall, but I am sorry about Astra losing her father at such a young age. We both know the pain of that.’
Skadi continued to stare at him with a red face. She didn’t even thank him as he handed her the knife. Instead, she stared at him intensely and then surprised him by asking, ‘You must have had help to grow such an army. Have the petty Kings decided to revolt against King Sven?’
‘Many are not happy with him, but very few have the courage to go against him.’
She frowned. ‘But you convinced some of them? King Leif? If you think he will support you against King Sven, then you are mistaken. The man lacks warriors and a spine.’
‘Not him.’
‘Surely not King Erik?’
‘You think all of my men are gathered together from an assortment of disgruntled petty kings, with no real alliance to speak of?’ He laughed, picking up his glass chalice and gesturing to his men with it. Her shrewd eyes followed his movement like a hawk.
‘Are they not?’ she asked the question just as he was about to drink, reaching out her hand to rest it on his elbow to stop him. The touch surprised him, and he lowered his arm to see her better. The heat of her palm soaking through the cloth of his tunic raised goosebumps along his arms.
‘There were a handful of mercenaries who sought glory—but they proved themselves to be unfit.’ He frowned as he remembered the men who had attacked Skadi in her chamber. ‘Half of my army is made up of the men I fought and trained with in the east.’
Her hand tightened on his elbow and his lower body stirred with desire. ‘The other half?’
‘King Olaf.’
He smiled at the shock on her face, and lifted the glass to his lips, trying to pretend he was not affected by her touch, despite feeling lightheaded. Why did her touch unsettle him? His heart seemed to leap into a running beat whenever she was close. Gritting his teeth against the intoxicating scent of her, he opened his lips to drink.
Suddenly, she jumped, or thumped his arm—he wasn’t sure which—and the chalice spilled scarlet liquid down his tunic. Thankfully, his reactions were quick and he managed to save the precious glass from falling…or at least he would have, if her hand hadn’t then flicked out a second time to knock it out of his hand.
It smashed on the stone floor beside him, and he stared at the shattered pieces and spray of wine on the dais floor in shock, as an uneasy thought slowly crept in.
Poison.
Chapter Nine
One of her servants, Inga, hurried forward. ‘I will get a bucket and broom to clean it up, Your Highness.’
‘Bring some lye soap, too… I don’t want the floor to be stained,’ said Skadi, although honestly, she didn’t care if the floor cracked in two. She was more worried about Inga, considering the subtle strength of the poison she’d almost served to her new husband. It was bad enough to kill a man she hated, but to kill an innocent by accident?
There were some things even she couldn’t stomach.
Agnar hadn’t moved since she’d swatted away the poisoned chalice and she had avoided his eyes for fear that one look at her guilty face would be enough to condemn her. Instead, she tried to brazenly act as if nothing had happened, nervously picking at her food and swallowing it down even though it felt like gravel in her throat.
