“That’s bloody freezing,” he said after taking a mouthful.
“We’re closer to the fjords here, even though we’re farther south. There’s a glacier between those two mountains.” She gestured to the far side of the river. His horse sauntered towards her, and she brushed her hand along his silky black coat as he bent his neck to take a drink.
“What’s his name?”
“Njord. What’s hers?” the prince said, nodding to her horse.
“Helle.”
He snorted. “Figures.”
Solveig’s head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“She tried to bite me yesterday.”
It was difficult to keep the smile off her face when she imagined the scene, but she managed. “Yes, she does that to those she doesn’t trust. She’s an excellent judge of character.”
“Njord is typically the same way, although he seems to have had a lapse in judgement where you’re concerned.” He observed her as she continued to circle Njord, stroking and whispering to him.
Solveig didn’t know what to think of the prince. He was different from what she expected, never having met any of the Idavoll heirs. Though he was the war prince of the Riddari and she had expected him to be more ... disagreeable.
Conalle came into view and dramatically dropped from his horse to lie flat on the ground, chest heaving. Solveig smiled at her friend the way one would a small child. She noted the prince raising his brows from her peripheral.
He was wary of her, rightly so. It was a mutual feeling then. Her magic was going haywire under her skin, matching the ice-cold temperature of the river. She didn’t know his motives for being here and could take nothing he said at face value.
Asgard may think they have a relationship with Idavoll, but she no longer held the same level of trust.
Regardless of whatever bullshit came out of the prince’s mouth, she would never let her guard down. Especially when his hand accidentally brushed hers as they made their way over to Conalle and a charge of energy ran up the entire length of her arm.
She could not let him distract her.
“You.Two.Are.Going.To. Be. The. Death. Of. Me,” Conalle said, panting between words.
“You’re getting soft, Connie,” Solveig jeered, doing nothing to hide her smirk as she and the prince loomed over him. Conalle opened his eyes and groaned.
“Seriously, you might as well leave me here. Mark me for a watery grave when the tide comes in.” He brought the back of his hand to his forehead. Solveig chuckled softly, and the prince’s attention snapped to her. She met his gaze, her smile vanishing, guarding her thoughts. Neither looked away.
“Are you two going to stand there gawking at each other, or can one of you help me up?” The prince broke eye contact first, putting his hand out to Conalle. He heaved him to his feet and Conalle brushed the dirt from his clothes.
“Shall we let His Highness in on your plan?” Solveig said, getting straight to business. She didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary.
“Just Westley is fine,” the prince corrected. She ignored him and his long-suffering sigh.
Conalle took this as his sign to jump right in. “Yes, right. So we’re here under unfortunate circumstances. Though in my mind, Sol, your return renders us useless. But the queens have concerns, and because we were already on our way, here we are. Since you were captured, forgive my insensitivity, but I assume you were also tortured?” Solveig stiffened in response. Conalle continued, his tone softening. “I thought so. The queens have the mind to bring you home to rest and recover.”
Home.
The Southern Wilds was her home. While the queens were her family, she didn’t belong in Asgard.
“Why have I not been informed of this?” she asked Conalle.
“Because they know you. They know you wouldn’t come willingly unless you lost your place here,” he said sombrely. She nodded. “And they love you. They want to make sure you’re okay.” He waited for her to argue but she stayed silent. That in itself was a testament to how not okay she was. “But I’ve also known you for a long time and while I’m certainly not a motherly figure, I’d like to think I’m somewhat like a big brother.” He reached forward and tilted her chin up. He gave her a soft smile that she returned.
“What am I doing here?” the prince said, interrupting the sweet moment. Solveig’s face immediately hardened and Conalle let out a soft sigh.
“I’m getting there, West,” Conalle said before Solveig could respond. “Latham was Solveig’s second in command and automatically took over the role as general when she was taken.”
Surprise crossed the prince’s face. “You chose Arlanson as your second?”
