“Good Evening, Your Highness.” He wears the Jarl of Skalorcirclet, adorned with jagged spikes that encircle his head, and dresses in much finer clothes than even Bjorn. “Pardon my interruption. I have seen you around and have desired an audience with Your Highness.”
Grandpapi, please give me strength.
“I would much like to enjoy time with myself tonight.” She takes pride in setting boundaries, regardless of his disgustingly insincere approach.
“My apologies, Princess. I only seek a conversation, perhaps a quick walk around Toftlund.”
“I hardly know you.” She senses the familiar tingle creeping along her spine, warning her against the man she met once before
“Jarl Guy of Skalor. I believe the last time you played a jest on me.” His smile is stunning. “You wouldn’t deny a world-weary Jarl the pleasure of your presence.”
“Are you flattering me, Jarl Guy?”
“You caught me.” He holds his hands up. “I couldn’t help myself.” He kisses her hand, leaving her feeling hollow.
Against her better judgment, her gaze drifts from Guy to the corner of the room where Calder sits. He clutches his drinking horn and talks with a drunken young woman beside him—the rabid, envious monster roars in her chest.
I have no right to feel this way!
Guy follows her gaze. “Ah, Jarl Calder Avardsson. Do you know each other well?”
She drains her mead horn. “I find the rumors surrounding the Iss Drengr to be unsettling.”
“Would you care for another drink? My beautiful Princess.”
Laying it on thick?
“Steinlund whiskey.” She gives a broad smile, hoping it doesn’t seem forced.
“I shall fetch it at once.” He bows before walking up to the bar in the corner.
Aura adjusts the skirt of her gown. A furtive glance across the room reveals a drunken woman laughing and stumbling intohis lap. She feels her cheeks burning despite looking away quickly.
‘I could never be with someone like you. I don’t want you, Aura.’His words sear into her chest, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
If she stays on the main streets, she will be in view of one of her father’s Drengr. A stroll with Jarl Smiles won’t be terrible.
Guy catches up to her with two drinks in hand as she steps down from the raised dais and strides toward one of the open back doors leading to the sea.
“For you.” He hands her the whiskey glass. “Beautiful night for a walk.”
She rolls her shoulders back, longing to return home. Thankfully, the summer evening is clear, and the gentle waves of the South Sea comfort the Princess.
They traipse along the city wall, overlooking the quiet waves, as they drink and talk. Of all the people she could have chosen to converse with, he was not terrible. Not great.
When they reach the docks, she notices they are eerily empty. Not even the Toftlund guards patrol the wharf, which is odd considering that the Farewell Feast encompasses the city. Her hackles rise, and her gut warns her to turn back.
“Thank you for your kindness, Jarl Guy.” She glances over her shoulder, sensing she is being watched and realizing she only has a single dagger sheathed on her person. “If you don’t mind, I wish to return to the longhouse.”
A saccharine smile graces his expression. He glances over his shoulder. “I can’t let you leave so soon, Princess.” His finger glides across her cheek and down to her shoulder. “Stay with me.”
Aura smacks his hand away, stepping away from his unsettling grin. Without another thought, she tears off back to the longhouse.
Two guards bearing that familiar and terrifying sigil of the crescent moon block her path, gripping her upper arms.
Oh, gods! It was Guy’s men who tried to kidnap me in the garden!
Which means that Calder knew them. Why did he not tell her or her father?
