What she dares not share is that Calder’s presence has been erratic and intense around her, and throwing herself back into that fire seems unwise.
Touching herself with her bedroom door openhad been intentional. What shocked her the most was his self-restraint. Out of curiosity and a strange urge to entice that bear of a man, she had not been able to leave him alone. She leaves her door open while she dresses, memorizes his Conclave schedule, and subjects his breaks to time spent gallivanting around Salt.
He has not broken once.
While she can savor his intoxicating gaze taking her in as she tests his resolve, he appears as devoted a Drengr as her fucking father could ever ask for.
“A word of advice.” Thora finally breaks the silence once they are outside the longhouse. “Leave Jarl Avardsson alone.”
Aura rolls her shoulders, straightening her spine as she prepares to tell Thora to piss off when her sister holds up a hand.
“Hear me out.” Thora glances around discreetly. “He is still aDrengr.”
Aura feels the air leave her lungs. “I would never do anything that would place him in harm’s way-”
“My little birds hear everything. Uncle Sig will love you until the earth crumbles, while Calder will die the most gruesome death at his blades.”
Her cheeks burn with shame at her inexcusable actions.
No wonder he keeps his distance.
I am not worth dying over!
“Use this opportunity to remind him and yourself of who you are.”
“And who is that?” She spits.
The door at the top of the steps swings open, and her father strides out, followed by Uncle Slode and Calder.
“Sigvid Thordsson’s child.” Thora ruffles her auburn curls before approaching their father and uncle, clapping a hand on their shoulders.
She loves her father but refuses to reduce her entire identity to him, unlike her sister.
“Princess.” The lines on Calder’s face are deeper than she has everseen. He looks exhausted, as if he bears the weight of the realms on his shoulders.
“How did the Skalor meeting fare?” She asks as another longhouse door swings open, and the other Skalor Jarls storm down the steps, cackling loudly.
“I might have fared better had I held awyrm–poisonous snake of the Abyss–during the endeavor,” he mutters gruffly.
She has not inquired about the nature of the Conclave. However, she has eavesdropped on enough conversations to know that it involves uncovering the other Draemonium threats Father suspects are plaguing the continent. The Skalor group has been troublesome, as the other men in attendance deny any issues.
More interesting is her father's ongoing fascination with Calder‘s abilities. She believes he expects his Inner Circle member to unveil some dark secret to him.
“Will you let me buy you a drink, Calder?” She reaches for his arm but recalls Thora’s words and clasps her hands behind her back.
He nods while gesturing down the street.
Aura relishes the unforced silence as they enjoy the day together. She glances up at the Iss Drengr, his hands tucked in his pockets as he surveys the street.
“Princess!” A familiar male voice calls out to her from behind. “Princess Aura!”
She glances over her shoulder and recognizes a young Drengr initiate who passed his Trial just before she failed hers. Two older Drengr, who are nearer to Thora’s age, accompany him.
“I must know if the Lord Commander gets you dressed in the mornings?” His question earns a laugh from his companions.
“Oh, and we all wish to know if it’s true the Queen hired a brute to keep you safe?” One of the others prods.
Aura grits her teeth, her knuckles white from gripping her tunic's edge. Still, she walks on, her gaze fixed straight ahead.
