But a boisterous knock at the door deflected her attention. Before Hekla could open it, Gunnar strode in.
“Fire Fist—” she started, breaking off as she took in his appearance. Clad in his finest doublet, Gunnar’s white teeth flashed from a broad smile. His locs and beard were adorned with silver cuffs and gleamed as though freshly oiled. Hekla thought back to the state he’d been in just a few weeks before and was amazed at how far the warrior had come.
“You’re well attired,” was all she could manage.
Ever the showman, Gunnar lifted his arms, spinning in a slow circle for Hekla to get the full effect.
Hekla put her hands on her hips. “What has you looking so handsome?”
That broad, confident smile deepened as Gunnar strolled forward. He worked a hemp sack loose from his belt.
“For you,” he said, bowing low, and placing the bag in Hekla’s hand with a flourish.
It was surprisingly heavy, filled with sólas and kressens. “What is this?”
“’Tis your bride price.”
Hekla stared, dumbstruck, trying to understand this new jest. Gunnar’s thick black brows lifted in expectation, and she scrambled for a reply, but words seemed to have fled her in this moment.
He chuckled, completely unfazed by her vacant expression. “Ahh, but you want me to do this the traditional way?” He drew his sword, then dropped to his knees, laying the flat of the blade across his palms. Bowing his head, Gunnar recited, “Fairest maiden, I pledge to you my sword, my heart, my love?—”
“Gunnar.”
His brow lifted, and he sent her a scathing look. “Let me finish. Where was I? My love. I vow to shelter you, to provide for you, to lie with no other woman. I kneel before you now to ask for your hand.”
Apparently now finished, Gunnar lifted his head and beamed at her.
Acid burned in her stomach, climbing up her throat. What in the eternal fucking fires had gotten into him?
But at her silence, Gunnar’s head cocked to the side. “Ah, I see. You truly wish to be wooed, do you?”
Placing the sword down on the floor, he mocked rolling up his sleeves, then took her sound hand in his. “The past two months have shown me a long life is far from guaranteed. I’ve travelled far and wide within this realm. Have tasted adventure and earned my share of scars. Now I am ready to rest my feet, to build a home and a family. And I would do it with you by my side, Hekla Rib Smasher—” He paused, apparently in search of her family name.
Hekla’s mouth opened and closed, still unable to speak.
“That is only part of your bride price,” Gunnar continued. “I’vemore buried in my horde near Kopa. Should you need proof, I shall dig it up and show you once we’re near.”
Hekla pulled her hand free from his to rub her throbbing temples, and Gunnar’s smile fell just a fraction. And in that moment, she knew—this was no jest. This fool of a man was truly asking for her hand.
He cleared his throat. “I know you’ve no love for your brother, and I would not do you the dishonor of asking him for your hand. Instead, I askyou, Hekla Rib Smasher?—”
The throbbing in her skull grew ever louder. This had to stop. Hekla tugged at his elbow. “Get up, you brute!”
Gunnar scrambled to his feet. She looked up at the lout, mind scrambling for a way out of this.
“You know I shall never marry again.” Hekla tried to keep the desperation from her voice, but a note cracked in.
“We need not have a ceremony.” Gunnar’s broad shoulders lifted and fell. “But think of the little warriors we could make together. A whole brood of them.”
“Brood,” she choked out. Her throat was constricting. She could not breathe. Hekla’s mind careened like an out-of-control wagon. This was Gunnar, a man she’d used to scratch an itch whenever it arose. She’d been direct with him from the start: only sex and no soft sentiments. Never mind that she hadn’t craved his company in weeks.
Yet even through her growing panic, Hekla knew she cared for Gunnar, though if she had to name it, perhaps it was more like the love for a brother. How could shenotcare for him when she’d fought shoulder to shoulder with Gunnar for five long years—when they’d weathered so much in the recent seasons? And she could not forget that Gunnar had only just pulled himself out of his misery. She could not risk sending him back there.
Hekla forced a smile on her face. Patted Gunnar’s cheek. She watched the confidence in his gaze swirl with confusion.
“I am honored by your request,” she managed through hernausea. “I am not sayingno. I am only saying I need time to think.”Of how to say no while ensuring you won’t fall back into a pit of despair, she could not add.
And before she could witness any hint of hurt on Gunnar’s face, Hekla rushed out of the room.
