The slightest movements ache from the bruises Sigvid littered across her skin as if she were his blank canvas to paint in his sadistic shades of black and blue.
Since her marriage to Thrain was announced, her warrior captor ensured she remembered who truly owned her body.
Night after night, he exerts his explosive fury out on her skin. After leaving her in a fuzzy, altered state of mind, Sigvid would bathe her before gently tucking her into bed. Despite his wrath, he always envelopes her in his hard arms, pulling her to his chest as he kisses her with a delicateness that often has her weeping.
Goddess, I would give anything to tell him the truth. But there are other lives at stake.
Avina takes the bronze knocker to Thrain’s house and lets it fall twice against the worn wood grains of his front door. In her shaky left hand is his summons.
“Good morning, Queen Avina.” One of the young servants she has seen before bows. “King Thrain expects you in his study.”
Avina nods curtly, slipping past and striding down the hallway with her head held high.
“Do you think he understands? Will he back off?” Thrain’s voice stops her at the cracked door of his office. She backs away, pressing her side against the wall to listen. The situation is eerily reminiscent of her childhood years eavesdropping on her father.
Helga’s voice answers. “He is obsessive, my lord. She is like an interesting artifact he has uncovered. Until he finds something else to occupy himself with, all his focus will be on her.”
“I want him out of the way, Helga. You’ve been spying on him long enough.”
Avina’s hand flies to her mouth to stifle her shock. Helga is Thrain’s spy? Does Sigvid know?
She can hear the scraping of something heavy along smooth wood, footsteps, and the creak of a chair. The image of Helga sitting on Thrain’s lap is almost vivid in her mind.
“What is the harm in him enjoying her before you force your Queen to the altar?”
“You saw them at the gathering. Disgusting. The country must accept our union as amiable, or the damned Drengr and Timber armies will rise against us.” Thrain guzzles something.
Helga chuckles. “Her Majesty knows her place. Sigvid has simply been enjoying his victory toy. You will have no trouble removing her from his bed.”
Silence answers her comment.
Avina can hear her own heart pounding in her ears.
“You said Sigvid abuses her body and tosses her into his dungeon. Night after night, leaving her defeated and in a frenzy to return to Timber. You never said she slept in his bed.” With disdain in his voice, Thrain spits the last word.
“You misunderstand-”
“It all makes sense.” Thrain mumbles almost to himself. “All those times I arrived at Scarwood to court her, only to learn she was at the Arena. Or how she remains attached to his hip every chance she can. Those big eyes looked up at him adoringly that night at the party for Mother.” He growls.
Helga’s shriek and a crash, followed by heavy footsteps, signals he tossed her off of him.
“You led me to believe he was furious with Avina. That my plan succeeded, and he hates her for betraying her fucking ownership marks.” Thrain hisses.
“Your plans do not need to change!” Helga’s voice trembles. “You can still marry the Queen after the Solstice and become-” her voice becomes a garbled mess.
Avina peeks through the door crack to see Thrain’s hand wrapped around her neck.
“I need to keep my brother from raising his fucking army of pledge warriors. Or from triggering Timber into the fray to control Treland.” He releases Helga, leaving her gasping for air. He strides to the map of Treland hung on the wall. “If he thinks in any way I am coercing that woman into this, do you understand what will happen?”
“What is that?” She squeaks.
“War, Helga! Bloody fucking war!”
Avina feels her chest constrict at the thought of losing Sigvid. She stumbles away from the door, her breathing unsteady.
I must go to him!
“Go. Fetch my mother. It is time for her to move to my home for the rest of the Solstice. Not to mention, Avina will be much easier to deal with if I have someone precious under my roof.”
