“What the fuck?” He whirls around on Slode as the door clicks shut. “I will end his fucking life! He cannot touch her again, or I will have him drawn and quartered!”
“Sig.” Slode’s tone is firm. “You asked for us to wait for him to hang himself. When he does, the Drengr will fucking take him down. He is baiting you, have some sense.”
Through the window on the side of the doorframe, Sigvid watches Thrain present Avina with an enormous glittering diamond ring. Her eyes narrow, and her lips move, forcing a quick reaction from his brother. Roughly, he steals her left hand and slides the ring onto her ring finger. He leans down and whispers something in her ear before sweeping out to his carriage.
Sigvid shoves his way out to Avina, stopping before he can protectively wrap his arms tightly around her soft body. He watches as she holds her left hand, examining the hideous ring.
She grumbles, almost spitting her venomous rage. “I could not have chosen a worse piece of jewelry had I done so blind and drunk.”
The one I crafted for you is stunning.
When he crafted her axes, he also designed a gorgeous silver band of sapphires to fit only her finger.
“....I heard they have free mead and smoked turkey legs.” Slode and Bertie emerge on the deck. In all his muscled glory, his closest frienddelicately touches the Ridge Duke’s shoulder, who bears a light blush over his freshly shaven face.
“I am ready for free mead!” Bertie shoves his way down the steps of the front deck, followed closely by Slode.
“We will meet you there,” Avina yells after them, tugging Sigvid back inside and slamming the door.
“You alright?” Sigvid tilts his head, watching her fidget with the edge of her cloak.
“I, er, had an interesting discussion with Slode,” she mutters as if thinking better of it. “It was nothing.” Shaking her head, she throws open the front door.
“Speak,” he lays a hand on the wood grains, shutting the door, “what was your discussion?”
“You.” She strokes the door frame. “He said you never bed a woman sober, or take one into your bed, or… loved anyone. He said you didn’t love.”
“He is right about the first two.” He grumbles as he reaches for something in his pocket. Sigvid takes her jaw in his hand, forcing her to meet his stare. He removes her golden curl tied with a ribbon.
Avina’s lips part when he holds the hair out before her gaze. “Oh, gods. Is that?” She takes her curl between her fingers.
“Your hair, yes, it is.”
“But how? It wasn’t under your floorboard…oops.” Avina purses her lips into a thin line as her eyes widen in terror.
“You found the stash of my most prized possessions, huh?” He chuckles, not even remotely surprised at her discovery. “I keep this in my breast pocket. Except for when the damn Battlemaster burned your first curl, so I took another.”
She strokes her hair as if trying to find the cut strand. “I thought you tossed it aside as soon as you received it. After all, I sent it to distract you.”
He cages her in his arms against the wall. His cock stirs as her breasts heave under his closeness.
“I have kept everything you ever gave me.” Lavender and rose swarm his senses the nearer his nose nuzzles against her hair. “Avina, I wantedto tell you something.” He tucks a stray curl behind her ear and kisses the shell.
“I love… free mead. Come on!”
Avina’s mouth gapes, and her nostrils flare as if she would spit fire at him.
With a crooked smile poised on his lips, he grips her jaw, “There is a fine line between love and hate, my sweet little one.”
47
AVINA
December 21st, Year 100, 9th Era
Toftlund City, Salt Province
“Iwin another Spill!” Avina pumps her fist in the air, causing the spectators surrounding their game table to whoop.
