“You know I can still hear you, right?” he asked. “What is this about?”
“You two haven’t formally met.”
“I know who he is,” Solveig said at the same time Westley replied, “She’s the general.”
“Yes and no,” Conalle replied to both of them. “Still, introductions are in order.” He cleared his throat and with formality declared, “His Royal Highness, Westley Erikson, third in line to the crown of Idavoll, War Prince of the Riddari. Your Highness, this is the illustrious General Solveig Tordottir, daughter of the Queens of Asgard, General of Asgard, leader of the Southern Wilds Legion.”
Neither spoke to the other. Slowly, Westley reached his hand out to her. She glanced at it before looking back up at him. She gave a slight nod.
Conalle must have been satisfied because he clapped his hands together. “Now that introductions are over, let’s be off.”
Westley dropped his outstretched hand, falling into step behind them.
“You still haven’t told me what business we have,” he said. Solveig ignored him but Conalle turned.
“We’re headed out on a ride for a little more privacy.”
The general led them around the outskirts of camp where they passed only guards. She acknowledged each of them and they bowed in return. They paid Westley no mind.
The witch in front of him moved with more grace than he thought possible of her kind. If it weren’t for her rounded ears, he would’ve thought she was Fae. He studied her intently, unsure of how to handle the situation.
She didn’t seem to like him, and that was just fine with him.
Solveig felt the eyes of the prince on her but continued to ignore him. Outwardly, at least.
Inwardly she was aware of his every movement. She wished to stay away from him as much as possible, he was the fucking prince of Idavoll, but with Conalle’s plan—and she had to admit it was a good plan—they would have to remain close.
When they reached the stables, Solveig strode straight for Helle. Her hand trembled as she reached out to her horse, hoping no one noticed. Helle came to her immediately and offered her surety.
The black horse also poked his nose out of his stall and Solveig reached out to him instinctively.
“Be careful!” the prince exclaimed. He rushed forward, but Solveig reached the horse first. She glared at him as the horse nuzzled into her. The prince stopped his approach, dark brows furrowing. “He usually doesn’t like strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
He appeared confused but Solveig didn’t care to elaborate. Helle snorted, pulling her attention back to her.
They readied their horses and led them out of the stables. The sun was still low in the sky, the birds only starting to wake, and Solveig swiftly mounted Helle. The males were still leading their own horses which made Solveig’s fingers tap the reins impatiently. Once they were seated, Solveig pointedly did not look at the prince’s strong legs around his horse.
Okay, maybe just a small peek. Then they were off.
Solveig raced through the woods towards the river. The storms had washed the forest of mud and grime, leaving the world clean and new. The lingering smell of rain in the air was more potent this morning as the trees still dripped with fresh water, sprinkling them with cleansing drops as they rode.
She pushed Helle faster, listening to the hooves of the prince’s horse keeping step with her, Conalle trailing farther behind. She should’ve slowed down so the lord could follow, but she didn’t.
Helle could sense her rising terror and allowed Solveig to push and push.
They were both out of breath when they reached the rocky beach of the riverbank. Memories flashed through Solveig’s mind as she recalled the last time she’d seen this place. She closed her eyes and pictured herself crawling to the water. Feeling the strength of the warm arms that rescued her.
But the memory of those warm arms was tainted now.
She only had a moment to herself before the prince burst through the treeline to meet her. He was also breathing heavily as he got his bearings.
“This is farther from your camp than I expected,” he said, catching his breath. It wasn’t a question, so Solveig didn’t answer.
She jumped down from Helle and strode to the edge of the river. Scooping the water with her hands, she took a steadying breath, theice-cold temperature soothing her soul. Helle meandered away grazing the water plants that washed up on the rocky shore. The prince dismounted and followed suit.
He winced as he dipped his hand in for a drink.
