“What is it you want?” The temperature plummets in the longhouse, only widening Lavinia’s smile.
“Such animosity. I only wish to meet the lovely pleasure slave…or should I say Princess Aura of Treland. Please, step forward, little Sigvidsson.” She extends a hand with a saccharine smile.
Aura peers up at him, seeking direction.
He doesn’t trust his bitch of a mother.
But they are surrounded.
His ice powers could decimate the longhouse, but at the expense of everyone inside.
When he edged the Princess on the throne, he learned that hisseidrhas a limit. His effort to shield her from his frost knocked him out of commission for almost a day.
With so much at stake, he needs to conserve his ability.
For her.
For Aura.
“Come. I only bite those who disobey me.” Lavinia guides Aurato the throne, forcing her to sit in the seat of his throne while the wretched woman perches on the arm. Her wide smile leers down upon his sweet Princess, who lifts her chin with a defiant fire burning behind her eyes.
“I am struggling, little Sigvidsson.” Lavinia sweeps her long, dark hair streaked with white over her shoulder.
Aura tilts her head ever so slowly, her lips thinning.
“I gave an order to all of my Jarls. A tiny, eensy little request. Do you know what that was, Princess?”
Fire flares in the Aura’s gaze. “To kidnap the Princess of Treland, to sacrifice me.”
Lavinia nods in understanding. “But my son, there,” she points to Calder, “he misbehaved, seeking to conceal you from me instead. Why would he do this? What about you would corrupt my son’s mind?”
Aura’s jaw clenches. “Because I am not a manipulative bitch, Your Highness.”
Lavinia laughs. “Life has scorned me, little Sigvidsson. I take care of myself before anyone else. Something you should consider if you wish to survive Skalor. Do you know why I ordered your death?”
His mother leans in and whispers in Aura’s ear, causing her face to grow pale. When Lavinia finally leans away, Aura’s horrified gaze searches for Calder.
The whites of Lavinia’s eyes glow an unsettling shade of yellow, which has Calder rushing to the stage.
“Leave her out of your schemes!” He growls, feeling the hands of her soldiers upon him.
“How interesting!” Lavinia exclaims, far too giddy.
Calder lunges forward, but Lavinia unsheaths a dagger. The tip presses against Aura’s throat, and everything shudders to a halt.
He raises his hands, temporarily stopping his fight as his heart refuses to beat with her life hanging in the balance.
Remove that dagger, or your chest will serve as a new sheath for Freyja.
“Tell him,” Lavinia forces her to stand, “what is your greatest fear?”
Aura shakes her head, her gaze firmly on Calder.
“Someone is afraid,” the Queen speaks in a child-like voice, “terrified, really, of her dear old papa having joined her Grandpapi in the Depths. Worse, she worries he will come here, and her Pops will die at the hands of the older man she should not have kissed.”
He struggles with the impact of her fears.
They are so far from Salt, yet the deepest part of her heart is still there.
