They wanted to shame her. Wanted her to writhe like a bug as they pulled off her wings. And there was nothing Saga could do but play along. Go with the currents.
“I should like to speak to the prince in private first,” said Saga, her eyes darting to Bjorn’s. But her betrothed’s cheeks were flushed, and he would not meet her gaze. Clearly, he knew. Theyallknew.
Saga felt the barest moment of regret for kissing Rurik—twice—but found it quickly chased away by a rush of indignant anger. She did not regret it. Those wereherchoices, and in a life where she had so very few, she refused to regret them.
“You will explain to us all, Saga,” said Signe, her voice disarmingly calm. “We are your family. We deserve to hear the truth.”
Not my family, she wanted to scream. But Saga knew there was only one choice for her here—to play along. “I felt flushed, so I left the hall.” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. “Lord Rurik joined me in the garden.”
Signe’s chin rested lightly on her knuckles. “And then…”
The eyes are afraid, but the hands are doing.
“We kissed.” The words seemed to echo in the vast, empty room. Saga hazarded a glance at her betrothed, shame coiling inside her as still he did not meet her gaze. “My apologies, Bjorn. I meant you no dishonor.”
“Saga, you’ve disappointed me,” came Ivar’s deep voice. “You’ve brought shame upon our family.”
That word, again, kindling anger deep in her stomach. But the king had not finished. His fist bashed the table, rattling the silverware. “The Zagadkians have deceived us. Have made fools of us. ’Twas shame enough that he would not drink from the skull, but this…thiscannot stand.”
Saga’s anger quickly curdled to fear. She opened her mouth to protest, but the violence in the king’s eyes made her falter.
“That arrogant man thinks he can come into my home and put his hands onmyward? On my heir’s betrothed?” The possessive gleam in the king’s eye told her in an instant his outrage was not for Saga but his own pride.
A new realization was dawning on her; one filling her with panic. Saga’s selfish choice last night had far broader ramifications than she’d realized. She’d jeopardized the treaty with the Zagadkians. Not only did this risk the safety of Rurik and his companions, but the well-being of her people. The good people of Íseldur whoneededthat grain.
She had to fix this. “I kissed him. It wasme. He is innocent.”
“You’ve been used, Saga,” spat Ivar, deep lines of tension in his forehead. “The man was trying to antagonize me.” He muttered something under his breath. “Already, he opposed our sacrifice at their farewell feast. Then he had the gall to enter the tournament, only to dishonor us by declining the victor’s rights. He spits on our tradition. Thinks himself above our rules.”
“No,” protested Saga. “It was not like that?—”
“Poor darling,” Signe interrupted primly. “You’ve been used and abandoned. They’ve fled like cowards under darkness of night.”
White dots danced in Saga’s vision. It couldn’t be true. But her eyes darted to the empty secondary table, reality crystalizing, cold and bleak. There would be no seeds in her róa. There would be no escape for her today.
Saga had been left behind.
She could not crumble—she would not let Signe win. Forcing breath into her lungs, Saga’s gaze slid to Yrsa, but her foster sister blinked furiously at her own plate.
“The Zagadkians will soon know the taste of Urkan wrath.” Ivar’s voice was rising. “It was wise of them to flee.”
“We must seek retribution,” said Magnus darkly.
“Swiftly,” growled Ivar.
“But the grain,” Bjorn interjected. “What of our people?”
“What of ourhonor, son?” boomed Ivar. “It is a lesson to be learned. Trust not a man’s word, but his actions. We thought the Zagadkians our allies, but their behavior has proven otherwise. Who’s to say they’d even deliver the grain we were promised?”
Bjorn opened his mouth, then closed it.
The king’s gaze hardened. “When faced with a wolf, you show your teeth or your belly. Are you a sheep, son, or are you a predator?”
“Predator,” said Bjorn, though he looked troubled.
“Saga,” said Ivar in a cold, hard voice. “You’ve proven to be a sheep. Weak. Easily misled. And you’ve fallen prey to the trickery of wolves. You’re unworthy of marrying my son. Unworthy of becoming queen.”
Saga held her breath.
