“Do not think too much of it, Eyvind is a serpent. As it turns out, he’s betrothed to some woman named Liv—”
“Liv?”
At the note of recognition, Hekla eyed her friend. “Do you know her?”
“Liv is one of my so-called ladies-in-waiting but—” Silla chewed her lip, clearly perplexed. “She’s never once mentioned a betrothal.”
Hekla mulled this over for a moment, then swiftly changed the subject. “And Gunnar must have knocked the wits from his skull, because the eelhead asked for my hand in marriage!”
“What?” Silla sat forward, róa sloshing onto her fine emerald gown. “Porridge,” she muttered, blotting it with her sleeve, then giving up. “And what did you say to Gunnar?”
“I am not proud of this.” Hekla stared at her steaming cup, unable to meet Silla’s gaze. “I asked for time.” She ran an irritated hand along her braid. “Gunnar suffered from dark moods after Ilías’s death and had only just returned to himself. I cannot be the one to send him back to the gloom.”
Silla’s eyes shone with compassion. “I see.”
Hekla sighed. “Istré was a complete, utter mess.” And then she told Silla everything—how she’d grown frustrated with Loftur blocking her investigation and Eyvind’s restrictive rules. How she’d stormed into the woods and been caught in the mist. How a squirrel-turned-grimwolf had rescued her and had then taken to pestering her to “free his mistress.”
And Silla, in turn, told Hekla of Kalasgarde—how she’d learned how to express her galdur and had battled a giant serpent. How Jonas and a battalion of Klaernar had showed up and trapped them with an avalanche. Silla’s voice faltered when she reached the partabout her mother’s bargain, and how a fragment of the god of chaos now lurked within her.
A month ago, gods and bargains gone awry were merely things of myth and story. But Hekla had seen too much in Istré. Now she didn’t question a single word that came from her friend’s mouth.
Silla’s gaze had grown distant, a solemn air settling over her. “I can…senseHim inside me, and yet ever since Svangormr Pass, He only slumbers. I would hope that He’s lost interest in me, but that would be too easy. And the longer He’s silent, the more restless I get. I can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation…like He is only biding His time.” As Hekla’s brows raised, Silla forced an overbright laugh. “I’m certain I’m reaching,” she said breezily. “Besides, it is only temporary. We search for a cure, and soon, we’ll find one. I can just feel it.”
“Dúlla,” said Hekla on a heavy breath. “That’s a lot to weather.”
“Yes, well, thankfully I’ve not had to weather it alone,” Silla continued. “And while we search for a cure, we’ve agreed that it’s best to keep the details quiet. Jarl Hakon thinks Eisa ought to solidify her place at court before adding in such…complications.”
Hekla opened her mouth to ask why Silla referred to Eisa as though she were someone else, but decided against it.
“Which means more lies. I suppose it’s only temporary. Soon Saga will come back to us and take her rightful place as queen.” Silla sighed, flopping back. “Ashes, but a lot has transpired since we’ve last seen each other.”
“Aye.” Hekla’s arm throbbed where no limb existed—the phantom pains that had once plagued her seemed to have returned on the ride back from Istré. Exhaustion was weaving itself into Hekla’s bones, her cravings for a bath and a long nap growing.
But her gaze caught on Silla, who watched her carefully. “Hekla, there is more.” Silla chewed on her lip, wrestling with something inwardly. “Something unexpectedly wonderful happened in the shield-home—”
Curiosity prickled Hekla’s skin, but before Silla could continue, the door to the chambers burst open and people filed into the room.Hekla leaped to her feet and rushed at a startled Axe Eyes, throwing her left arm around him and slapping him on the back. It seemed she was a hugger today.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she said, drawing back. Trying to hold the Bloodaxe Crew together in Istré had been empowering, yet utterly exhausting. Hekla was glad to hand the reins back over to Axe Eyes.
“As are you.” Rey’s lips twitched, and he nodded at her. That singular expression was worth more than Hekla could explain—asmidge of the old amid so much new. “Istré has long been on my mind. I am sorry I could not be there with you and that things went badly. But I am glad to see you whole and hale.”
Movement behind Rey caught Hekla’s eye. Eyvind Hakonsson sauntered into the room, freshly bathed and dressed in a fine-spun tunic that looked far too good on him. His once-glorious black hair was now singed and smoothed back, and the burns on his sharp cheekbones reminded Hekla of how he’d risked everything to save her from the explosion in Istré’s town square. An ache bloomed in her chest, and she forced her gaze away.
How could he have hidden thisLivfrom her all this time? Her anger at Eyvind’s deception was a low simmer, but the anger she directed inward burned far hotter. What Hekla could not bear to tell Silla was that she and Eyvind had grown close. That she’d convinced herself that perhaps they could be more than a mere roll in the furs. Thank the gods she’d discovered his betrothal before she did something wholly humiliating.
“They’ve set you up in a palace!”
Gunnar strolled into the room, his locs woven into a thick braid, and his beard neatly trimmed and oiled. He greeted Hekla with an unexpected kiss to the cheek that had her reeling back, her gaze accidentally locking with Eyvind’s. Those hazel eyes smoldered, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and Hekla quickly refocused her glare on Gunnar.
We have much to discuss,Gunnar’s amused look seemed to say.
She opened her mouth with a sharp reply, but a group of warriors she did not recognize entered the room.
“This is Runný, Kálf, Hef, and Erik,” Rey introduced. “Galdra from my hometown who’re now on queensguard duty.”
Hekla shook each of their hands. Gods, this was strange. Not only being surrounded by Galdra, but being in the presence of a queen—even if Silla did not think of herself as such.
Thrand, Eyvind’s second in command, led Eyvind’s retinue into the room and closed the door behind them. Suddenly, Hekla’s chambers didn’t feel quite so large.
