“What was her name?”
Was. Past tense. Is it that obvious? “Ellynne.” Speaking her name feels like reopening a wound. My throat squeezes even tighter. I let my gaze fall to the log I’m sitting on, suddenly focused on the texture. My hands run over the rough bark, the distraction I need from the pressure building behind my eyes.
“I remind you of her, hmm? Sounds like she was amazing.”
I lift my head, my lips tugging up shakily. “Definitely like Ellynne,” I say.
Valdis laughs, the boundless warmth of it not unlike Odgar’s.
“Please don’t give Valdis a bigger head than she already has. I’m not sure how she continues to walk upright,” Odgar says.
Valdis slams her fist into Odgar’s arm, but he laughs while she shakes her hand out. Seth seems unbothered, sipping from the mug of the forbidden drink.
“Well,” Valdis says, her husky voice suddenly airy. She rises from the tree trunk beside her husband and dusts off her hands and the back of her cape. “Try to get some rest. We visit the gods tomorrow.”
My stomach lurches at the prospect of visiting the Seer—of perhaps getting some sort of Uldaran-deity insight. We bid them farewell, and then Briony also rises. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she says cheerily, bending to grab her rucksack.
“No need.” My words fly out perhaps a little too hastily.
Odgar grins. “Afraid of being left alone with me?”
“… No.” I silently curse myself for hesitating. “It’s not that.”
“Good night, Carys. Prince Odgar.” Briony smiles and heads off to somewhere nearby.
I stand as well, shifting away from the logs to spread out my bedroll. I sit atop it, and Odgar joins with his legs folded. “Don’t you have your own bedr?—”
Quiet moans resonate around us, and as I glance around, my jaw practically unhinges.
My focus barrels back to Odgar. “Are you kidding me?”
Odgar laughs. “Welcome to Sumarvegr, raven. Where no one has their wits about them. Less logic and more arousal.”
“Magdin’s tits,” I mumble. “You all just … in plain sight?”
Odgar laughs even harder. “Not all of us.”
I shift uncomfortably.
“Alright, what do you want to know about me?” he asks.
Trying to ignore the activity around me, I pull my knees into my chest. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
A year younger than Tiernan. My arms tighten around my legs. Eventually, the sounds shift to the background as my thoughts fixate on my friends in Erleya. On the hope of their safety.
“Why aren’t you already betrothed to someone right here in Uldarvik?” I ask Odgar.
He shrugs. “Not interested.”
I’m certain that incredulity seeps into my face. “No lovers?”
He shakes his head. “Not for a long time. How about you?”
I let out a breath and raise my chin proudly, despite the shame from Iywan’s past insults. “I’ve had a few,” I admit. I wait for his mood to sour, for him to be appalled or disappointed. I resist telling him there had been a few within the same span of time.
“Your guard back in Erleya,” Odgar says gently. It’s not a question, but there is a curiosity in his eyes. To my surprise, there’s no judgment.
