Elsie’s fingers curled tightly around Halvard’s hand as she practically yanked him down the hallway. Each step echoed against the cold stone walls, but she didn’t care. Her cheeks burned—not from exertion, but from the fury that had taken root in her chest.
“Stop arguing and listen to me!” she snapped, dragging him toward the study. Only once they were behind closed doors did she turn to him, ready to unleash her pent-up fury upon him. “I will not have you treating me like a foolish girl while I do everything I can to help your people!”
Halvard struggled, his boots sliding against the polished stone. “Elsie?—”
“No!” she cut him off, her voice rising in a dangerous tremor. “This is about trust. You don’t trust me. You think I’d do something reckless, but I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me. Never! And yet, here you are, treating a simple conversation with Torrin as if it were some plot against you!”
Halvard swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling unevenly, and for a moment she had the terrifying, satisfying thought that she had finally rendered him speechless.
“I…” he began, then faltered, his voice dropping. “I—Elsie, it’s nae that I think ye’ll betray me secrets tae Torrin. I’m nae concerned about politics or… or war or anythin’ like that.”
“I know that!” she interrupted, stepping closer, hands pressed to his chest. “It’s your distrust of me. You think I’ll betray you, when I’ve never even hinted at it. You don’t trust me and if you can’t trust me, Halvard, we can never, ever work!”
His eyes flickered with something raw, something she hadn’t seen before—shame, regret, and an honesty that made her stomach twist. He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face, his jaw tight.
For a moment, Elsie thought he wouldn’t own up to his mistake. She thought he would simply walk away from her, putting another wall between them. She thought he would be too stubborn to admit to any of it, especially his jealousy, which he guarded like a deep secret.
But the way he handled it in the end surprised her.
“Ye’re right,” he admitted finally, with a sigh so deep he seemed to deflate as the air left his lungs. “I’ve always been distrustful. Always seen the world as filled with lies an’ betrayal. I’ve fought me whole life expectin’ the worst.” He met her eyes then, dark, intense, searching. “An’ I’ve been a fool fer nae trustin’ ye.”
Elsie’s chest tightened. Her anger didn’t dissipate—it shifted into something tender, something hot and pulsing that made her fingers tremble.
“Ye’ve noticed,” Halvard said, a wry edge to his tone, “me trust issues…”
Elsie nodded, heat rising in her cheeks. “Of course, I’ve noticed. But I’ve never given you a reason to question me, not once. Why then, Halvard?”
He looked away for a moment, then back to her, their gazes meeting. His voice dropped to a whisper, raw and intimate. “Because o’ Bonnie.”
Elsie froze. There was that name again, the one that haunted her like a shadow.
Halvard drew a deep, shuddering breath, the weight of confession seemingly pressing on his chest like the stones of Brochel itself. He took a step closer, lowering his voice so that it trembled with a vulnerability he rarely allowed.
“Elsie… there’s somethin’ ye need tae ken. Somethin’ about me past.” His eyes, usually so guarded, softened, almost pleading for her patience.
Elsie reached for his hand, resting it over her own heart, and felt it tremble slightly under hers. Her stomach tightened inanticipation. Never before had she seen Halvard so raw, so open, so vulnerable.
“I ken. What is it, Halvard?” she asked, her voice low but steady, trying to mask the flutter of worry that had risen in her chest.
“She…” he began, and her stomach dropped. Her fingers tightened around his hand and she listened patiently for what was to come. She had never thought the reveal would come in the first place—Halvard was always so guarded, so closed-off to everyone, even to her, that a confession about his past had always seemed impossible, like it was too much to ask.
“She… she was me braither’s wife. Einar.” His jaw tightened, a shadow crossing his face.
Elsie’s eyes widened. “Your brother’s wife?” she repeated, startled.
“I loved me braither, Elsie. Loved him like nay one else. An’ I would have never,neverbetrayed him. Nae fer the world.” His gaze fell, and she saw the weight of honor and guilt pressing him down.
Elsie’s brow furrowed, a surge of sympathy mixing with a quiet tension. “I see,” she mumbled softly. She could only imagine his brother was dead now, long gone from Halvard’s life. He had never mentioned him before, and Elsie couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever even mention him again.
“But Bonnie…” His voice dropped, thick with bitterness and regret. “She didnae love him, nae really. She never did. She… she loved me, madly, insanely. Every glance, every word, every subtle touch, it was always fer me.” Halvard’s eyes lifted, dark and haunted, meeting hers. “An’ I…” He swallowed hard. “I could never return it. I didnae love her, an’ even if I had, I would never have done such a thing tae Einar. It would have ruined him. So I kept her at arm’s length, never allowin’ more than pleasantries.”
Elsie could only imagine that something had happened in the end, though, if Halvard was so torn up about this. He claimed he had never loved Bonnie, but what if he was lying to her? What if he was lying even to himself?
“An’ then Einar died, and I let her stay because she had nay family.” His voice cracked, ragged, heavy with grief. Elsie’s breath caught in her throat. She saw his shoulders stiffen, saw the way his hands clenched as though fighting off the memory itself.
“And one night… I was weak, Elsie,” he continued, his voice trembling in a way she had never heard it before, terribly vulnerable. “Exhausted, grievin’, lost… an’ she took advantage o’ that moment. She seduced me. An’ I …” His knuckles whitened as he gripped her hands. “I let it happen. I hated meself the moment it ended.”
Elsie felt her stomach twist. She wanted to reach out, to smooth his hair, to hold him close, to tell him it wasn’t a stain, it wasn’tshame—it was human. She found herself shaking her head, a tear slipping down her cheek.
