“I understand,” said Jonas, his voice slightly hoarse. “I, too, know what it is to have the blood of my kin on my hands.”
And before he knew what was happening, Jonas spilled the details about his abusive father. Of how he’d killed him in retribution for the murder of his mother. But by the time the last words fell from him, the queen’s posture had eased, and Jonas knew he’d done the right thing in telling her. She’d shared something deeply personal, and with it came a sense of instability. His confession was simply rebalancing the scales. Placing them back on even ground.
Signe shook her head slowly. “You understand,” she said softly, something flickering behind her eyes. “In this world, it is kill or be killed.” Her gaze locked onto his, as though fortifying this new bond.
Jonas nodded, though something in her words didn’t sit entirely right. It was one thing to deliver death to an evil man, and altogether another to push an innocent woman from a tower. But there was no force in this kingdom that would convince Jonas to voice such thoughts.
“Should I have simply rolled over and let the Urkans slaughter me?” The queen laughed, though it sounded far from amused. “Still, it was a…regretful thing to have to do.”
“I understand,” Jonas repeated numbly. “I will mourn my brotheruntil my last breath. But it is my father who haunts my dreams. Whose words slither into my mind.”
The queen pushed to her feet. Sauntered over to him. Lifted Jonas’s goblet and pressed it to his lips. Gripping the arms of his chair in surprise, Jonas obligingly sipped.
“You understand,” whispered the queen, setting the goblet down. Her face was now an inch from his, and she slid a finger across his lips, capturing a droplet of wine. “How is it that youalwaysunderstand?” Jonas hardly dared breathe as the queen stared at him, perplexed.
And then she pressed her lips to his.
She tasted like wine and honey, and her lips were soft as silk. For an instant, Jonas forgot just who she was, losing himself in this moment of vulnerability. They’d shared their burdens with each other, and with that came a sense of weightlessness.
But shock jolted through Jonas as he recalled just who he kissed. Queen Signe was married to a violent man—a king, no less.
“Wait,” he said, drawing back. The queen’s gaze grew thunderous as she stared back at him. “The wine,” he said quickly. “You’re intoxicated. I cannot take liberties—”
“I can handle my wine far better than most.” Signe ran a hand up his biceps, and indeed, her words were clear.
Despite all the logical reasons he ought to end this, Jonas was a hot-blooded man with a pair of eyes. It was impossible not to note the queen’s beauty. And if she wanted comfort in his arms, who was he to deny her?
Jonas swept the queen onto his lap. And then he kissed her in earnest.
Hours later, Jonas lay in the queen’s bed, staring dazedly at the ivory canopy above. It had to be made of silk, imported from some isle to the south, and it was delicately sculpted into the shape of a flower. He stared, dumbstruck, at this elaborate canopy, pondering how he’d climbed from the dungeons to the queen’s bed in afew short weeks. But then Jonas decided some things were better not examined too closely.
The queen lay curled against his side, her breathing soft and rhythmic. But as a draft whispered through the room, Jonas carefully extracted himself from her slumbering form to set another log in the fireplace.
“Leaving so soon?” asked the queen, a sour note in her sleepy voice.
Jonas paused, then looked over his shoulder, satisfied to find her gaze homed in on his backside. “Only livening the fire,my queen,” he said softly. “Does that please you?”
Her scornful expression shifted into something softer, a slow smile curling her lips. “What wouldpleaseme,” she purred, “is something to nibble on. I’ve rather worked up an appetite.” Signe looked at him expectantly. Did she intend forhimto fetch it? After a brief internal struggle, Jonas padded to the doorway.
Beyond it, he found a pair of unsmiling guards, who looked at him with disdain as Jonas relayed the queen’s request. After a long-suffering sigh, the smaller of the two wandered off, and Jonas slid the door shut. He turned back to the bed, eyeing the queen’s naked form. She was lithe, and with her alabaster skin and white-gold hair, she looked like an ethereal creature not of this realm. Jonas prowled toward her, his intentions clear.
But the queen waved a hand at him, saying, “Not now.”
Jonas blinked furiously at her casual dismissal.
“Come here, Jonas,” said Signe, patting the bed beside her. “Sit.”
His teeth snapped together at the command, and it took every ounce of his will to obey. Reluctantly, he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Ididhave a matter in mind when I summoned you to my chambers last night,” she said, gaze trailing across his chest. “Before we were…diverted by other things.”
Jonas nodded slowly.
The queen’s glacial-blue eyes met his, and he could not read the expression behind them. “What do you think is the purpose of Volund’s warband?”
His brows dipped low at the unexpected question. “Are you asking if I believe what I’ve been told?”
The queen nodded.
