Lord Rufus watches me closely. He knows something is amiss.
“I will take great pleasure in killing Lord Rufus, however.”
“Are you certain this is the right course of action?”
“It is the only way to keep my children safe. Do you forget whose blood courses through their veins? They are half Saxon, half Viking. They will not cower in fear. They are smart and will bide their time until I find them.”
“But we do not know where to look?”
Lord Louis is right.
I walk toward the table, eyes locked with Lord Rufus. “Aye, we do not…But I know who does.”
Lord Louis gasps. “My Queen, no. If anyone were to see?—”
“He is the only one, Louis, for they are his heart and soul as they are mine.”
There is only one man who can help me. One man I trust with my life because he will sacrifice everything, just as I will, to find them, because they are ours.
Time stands still, as does my heart, as I confess my sins aloud. “I must find Skarth the Godless.”
I never thought I would ever say those words again. But something means more to me than my kingdom—and that is my sons.
I steal a cup of wine from a passing guard and raise it high. No one seems to notice, for they are drunk on food and wine. But Lord Rufus watches me, which is why I salute him the only way I can because he needs to know I am coming for him…I will hunt him down and burn this kingdom I love to the ground if I must, because I love something else more.
With a maniacal smile, I whisper, “Skol.”
Two
Queen Emeline
I’ve not slept a wink.
It may be a new day, but this all feels like one nightmare that will never end.
The stables have always been my sanctuary.
As a child, it was here that I learned to be a warrior. And it’s also here where I could be at peace with Skarth.
I sit on the ground amongst the animals. They can sense my despair, as I have a little lamb sitting in my lap, trying to comfort me. But I do not deserve it. By acting out and attempting to hurt Skarth, I only hurt myself.
“Emeline, you are nothing but a fool,” I mutter under my breath.
I cannot cry. Tears escape me, but I deserve to feel pain. I deserve to be lying dead, not my three ladies-in-waiting.
I reach for the crucifix around my throat, for it is nothing but a joke. The Lord is not my Shepherd, for He has forsaken me more times than he has offered me comfort.
What sort of cruel God is He?
“Emeline?”
Catherine appears, nothing but worry etched on her young face.
She is eighteen years of age, and although she’s had many offers of marriage, she’s refused them all. She insists on staying with me and helping to see Northumbria prosper.
She is beautiful with her long black hair and piercing blue eyes, but looks mean nothing to Catherine, for she was wronged in this life, too. Her family was slaughtered, which is how I found her. She was only a young child, but her bravery has always shone.
She is clever and thinks like a future queen should, for I know without a doubt that is what her destiny holds.
