Both her mothers were, by the look of it.
“Excuse me?” Erik asked, not bothering to hide his derision. “Why on Yggdrasil would we host the wedding of a Vanir and an Elven?”
“Why ever would you not? It was done in the past, since Idavoll is at the heart of the continent, connecting all three realms of the Trifold. We recognize Idavoll’s strength, making it the perfect place to reignite the alliance,” Koa answered innocently.
If Solveig wasn’t so irked at her mothers, she would find their show much more amusing.
“It has not been done in many decades,” Alvida said when her husband couldn’t get out the words, overcome with his anger.
“All the more reason for this special wedding to start the tradition up again,” Koa said with a smile.
Solveig’s magic flared with each mention of the wedding. Her mothers were pushing harder than expected. They didn’t care that much about the traditions of old. In fact, they were loudly opposed to that line of thinking. They abhorred tradition for tradition’s sake.
Aelfsi added, “Isn’t that Idavoll’s dream, to be the centre of power? What better way to show your people you are willing to support the joining and the future heir of Asgard.”
The king and queen bristled.
“Does anyone else object to this union?” Koa asked lightly, surveying the room—her gaze lingering too long on the prince to be a coincidence. Solveig narrowed her eyes on her sister.
An unnerving feeling settled in her bones as the vehemence in the room grew. Idavoll’s monarchs shifted in their seats. Queen Alvida’s eyes were on her son, as if pinning him in his seat.
“It seems no one does, love,” Aelfsi said, her gaze flitting to the prince as well.
Solveig caught the movement and understanding dawned. They were expecting him to object. But why would he?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sten backing away, heading carefully towards the door.
What was he sensing? Sure, the room was tense, but surely speaking about a wedding wouldn’t result in a brawl. She almost snorted at the foolishness of that thought. Brawls had been started over far less between these races.
“Well then, now that we have that settled, we can proceed with our plans,” Queen Eir said happily. “I am so glad no one has found fault in this arrangement.”
This was getting out of hand. One would think that the three queens, who were well over a thousand years old each, would be able to act more convincingly.
What the fuck was going on? Why was so much emphasis being placed on someone objecting?
The only reason a powerful arranged marriage between a couple from consenting realms could be overruled would be if—
Her heart faltered before roaring to life again, thundering in her chest.
No. It wasn’t possible.
Tension climbed higher. Her magic surged under her skin as realization crashed through her. The air was sucked from the room as if they’d all collectively inhaled, waiting.
No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes flicked to Koa and Aelfsi. They stared expectantly.
Her mothers knew.
They knew and had kept it from her.
How could they? They knew the prophecy she’d been given as a witchling. There was no way the prince could be ...
Her mind trailed off, unable to form the words. She thought over everything that had happened.
The awakening of her magic in the cave.
Before the cave, even.
The prince’s pull on her, even though logic dictated they be enemies.
