She swallowed and took Randvior’s hands in hers. Rewarded him with an intense smile. He nuzzled his head between her thighs.
“You didn’t need to ask me again.”
A few minutes later, satisfied she had agreed, he let go and stood. “There are a few preparations before the priest can offer the vows.”
In the farthest corner of the room, he unveiled a large chest. After he opened it, he showed her two swords. The first was the one he had laid across his knees during the oath taking ceremony. Randvior lifted the heirloom above his head.
“My sword was forged in the fires of my forefathers and I am meant to guard its tradition. Our eldest son will hold thisweapon one day, and it will continue to symbolize everything we hold sacred—our freedom. Odin blessed this blade and our wedding vows will be spoken over it.”
He lowered it and lifted the second so she could see it clearly. The thin delicate blade gleamed coppery-silver in the soft light. “This one,” he wanted her to join him, “was produced in my armory for you. It’s meant to represent your ancestors.”
Noelle traced the metal with her fingertips. Her name was etched along the unblemished edge.
“Why should you honor my family?”
“Min lille dukke,” he said. “By custom we equally honor both families during a wedding.Ourchildren will share the bloodlines of both our houses. The name Sinclair is honorable. It is only your brother I despise.”
“And these rings…” Noelle inspected the silver and gold rings set in the delicate pommel.
“The first of many oath rings for your blade. These,” he fingered two, “symbolize the beginning of our lives together.”
He tapped the handle. “Hereafter, every critical moment of our lives—births, weddings, and deaths—will be remembered by additional rings. For a people defined by oral tradition, they will act as a historical record. And long after we’ve departed this earth, they will serve as a legacy for future generations who will swear allegiances over them, too.”
Noelle handled the sword cautiously. It fit her hand so precisely, so perfectly balanced, and she swept it overhead with ease. Her mood improved the longer she admired the weapon. “Thank you.”
“Aye,” he said, “it embodies the beauty I see in my queen.” He took the blade and propped it against the wall.
“Are you ready to face the world as my wife,min lille dukke?”
“Only if you promise to quit teasing me so much and if you finally tell me what that bloodyterm of endearmentyou’ve called me since the first day I met you means.”
You need only ask…“My little doll.”
Noelle raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
He devoured her with his eyes. “I’ve considered youthatand so much more since that first day.”
She giggled sweetly. “Your honeyed tongue could talk any virgin out of her clothes.”
“Aye,” he said. “It already did.” He hugged her close. “Please believe my words are not practiced. You alone inspire me.” He could feel her heart pounding against his chest.
He swung her around like a child.
“Now,” he set her down. “More gifts await you.”
She clapped her hands as he pulled a powder blue gown and a tawny colored headdress, adorned with sprigs of heather and dried wildflowers, out of the trunk. “My mother wore this bridal crown and her mother before her. Now I wish you to wear it.”
“How is it you knew to bring these things here?”
“After Sveinn kidnapped you, I sent Brandon ahead, as my proxy, to receive my father’s blessing for this union. He brought the trunk, too. The priest has been waiting for days. I knew in my heart if we were reunited that not another day should go by without us being husband and wife.”
“You amaze me.”
“No,” He cupped her face. “Youamaze me.”
An exaggerated cough disrupted their conversation.
“My Lord Sigurdsson, if you will follow me outside. Please help me set the hay bales, the lady will need time to prepare.”
