And just like that, the moment shattered. Of course. Of course, that's what changed things. Everyone always?—
"Good," Harald said.
Enya blinked. "What?"
"I'm glad it was him." Harald's gaze was steady on hers. Steady and completely unafraid. "He deserved worse than a quick death fer puttin' his hands on ye."
The world tilted slightly.
"Ye're nae afraid," she whispered.
"Of what?"
"Of me. Of me eyes. Everyone—they always—" The words were tumbling out before she could stop them, exhaustion and fear and too many years of rejection loosening her tongue. "They say I'm cursed. Touched by the devil. They willnae even look at me properly because?—"
"Because they're fools." Harald cut her off, his voice matter-of-fact. "Yer eyes are unusual, aye. But that daesnae mean cursed."
"Ye dinnae understand."
"I understand that ye're freezin', covered in mud, and probably in shock. I understand that we need tae get ye tae the castle afore ye catch yer death. And I understand—" He paused, and something flickered in his expression. Something shecouldn't quite name. "—that whatever I expected when the king commanded this marriage, it wasnae ye."
Enya's breath caught. "Is that... good or bad?"
"I havenae decided yet." But the corner of his mouth quirked, just slightly. "Ask me again when ye're nae drippin' pond water on me boots."
"Yer boots will survive, I think."
"Will they? They're quite dear tae me."
"Dearer than yer future wife?"
Harald's eyes glinted with something that might have been humor. "The boots, at least, have never fled into a pond."
"I didnae—" Enya stopped, seeing the trap. "Ye're makin' fun of me."
"Am I?"
"Aye. Ye are." She crossed her arms, which was difficult while shivering. "And it's very rude to mock a lady ye've just rescued."
"Is it also rude tae point out that said lady fled from her rescuer?"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because ye're..." Enya gestured vaguely at him. At all of him. "Ye're covered in blood and carryin' a sword, and ye're—ye're?—"
"Norse?" Harald supplied.
"I was goin' tae say terrifyin’, but aye, that too."
"Terrifyin’." He said it like he was testing the word. "Should I be flattered or insulted?"
"I havenae decided yet," Enya threw his own words back at him. "Ask me again when I'm nae freezin' tae death."
This time Harald definitely smiled. It transformed his face entirely—softened the hard edges, made him look younger, almost approachable. Almost.
"Fair enough," he said. "Come on, then. Let's get ye warm."
