“Your marriage is not about love, Sylvi,” I rasp, shifting my gaze back to meet hers. “It is about alliances. Perhaps you will fall in love with him one day, but it is not meant to be solely a love match.”
She lets out a grunt, and I expect her to throw a fit, but she doesn’t. “Can you arrange for the marriage to happen as soon as you come back, then?”
“Why?” I ask.
My heart starts pounding inside my chest as I think about my sister and her leaving me. I do not wish for her to go. She is my little Sylvi. I have raised her and Oili since they were but wee babes.
“I do not want to be here for the entirety of winter, seeing him, watching him sneak off with thralls and farm girls. My heart cannot take it, Aaric.”
Clearing my throat, I nod my head. Lifting my hand, I cup my sister’s cheek. Sliding my thumb along the apple of her cheek, I nod my head.
“I will do this for you, Sylvi, but know that it is with a heavy heart I send you away early. Selfishly, I want to keep you here.”
“You have Oili for a little while longer,” she murmurs.
I hum and nod my head once. “I do, but you are not her and she is not you.”
We don’t say anything else. I have nothing more to say. Turning from her, I leave and head back to the húsgørd. “I need to see to my wife.”
LIV
I can feel her eyes on me. I ignore them and her, but something is really, really not right with this woman. Runa snorts next to me.
“What?” I ask.
“She really hates you, thankfully you have me on your side.”
“So what is her problem?” I ask.
Aaric hasn’t talked to me much in almost two weeks. We’ve made love every single day, morning and night and some afternoons. However, actually conversing? We have done very little of that.
“I cannot tell you, just know that I have you very well protected,” Runa hisses.
I let out a sigh and sink down in to the chair. Reaching for the book, I attempt to read the text, but I fail. I can only understand maybe five words in this language and reading it is even harder than actually hearing and saying it aloud.
“I’m hopeless,” I sigh. “Can’t you cast some magic spell so that I can understand and speak this stuff?” I ask.
Runa’s eyes narrow on me and I roll my own. She can cast a spell if she wants, she’s already done it on herself, Aaric, and Hillevi so that they can understand and speak English. I really don’t know why she won’t flip-flop it.
“Konungr has requested that I not do that, Liv, and you know my loyalties must always lie with him.”
“He’s an asshole,” I snap.
She giggles, and that causes me to laugh as well. That is how Aaric finds us, giggling like a couple of schoolgirls. I expect him to give us his normal frowny face, but instead, his lips twitch into a smile at the sight.
“Come talk to me, víf,” he grunts, holding his hand out for me.
Pressing my lips together, my eyes meet Runa’s. “Talk,” I mutter. “Right.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter at my words, but she does not actually laugh aloud. She and I both know that Aaric does not visit me to talk—ever.
Standing, I follow behind Aaric as he begins to walk away from me. I expect him to make a beeline for our bedroom, but I’m surprised when he turns in a different direction and walks toward his office.
This space seems so forbidden, so completely off-limits that I can’t help the way my stomach twists as soon as I step over the threshold. Aaric doesn’t seem to notice, he walks right over to his plain, wooden desk and sinks down in his chair with a heavy sigh.
I shift from foot to foot as I wait for whatever it is, he’s about to tell me. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s silly really. But there’s just the simple fact that we don’t talk. When we do, we fight, so we haven’t said much to one another in days.
“What do you know about Sylvi and Gunnar?” he asks.
The question causes my body to jerk. My eyes widen as I lift them to meet his. He’s watching me, completely focused on me and my reaction. His lips turn down into a frown.
“Tell me,” he demands.
Pressing my lips together, I roll them before I tell him exactly what I know, which to be honest, isn’t much.
“They are attracted to one another,” I blurt out. “I’ve seen them watch each other, but Aaric, I don’t think either of them have acted on anything.”
He nods his head slowly. I don’t want to get Sylvi or Gunnar in trouble, I really like them both and it would suck if I just threw them under the bus, but on the other hand, I want my husband to trust me and let me in.
I feel as if I’m between a rock and a hard place. The way Aaric just stares at me, I hold my breath, unable to speak. I wait and wait for what he’s going to say next.
“Skiter,” he growls.
“I don’t know what that means,” I whisper.
Aaric shakes his head a couple of times. He lets out a heavy sigh as he tips his head back to look up at the ceiling, then flicks his gaze back to meet my own.
“Sit, Liv,” he says, his voice much softer than just seconds ago.
Walking in front of the wooden bench that is directly across from his desk, I slowly sink down, folding my hands in my lap, I keep my gaze downcast as I twist my fingers. I try to think about anything except the way he is watching me.
I try to think about how pretty my new wardrobe is. Aaric spared no expense, and it is obvious that he paid heavily for my new dresses and accessories. I never was much for jewelry and little doodads, but the amount of gold and jewels that he had brought in for me is just so beautiful that I find getting dressed each day is an exciting adventure.
“Look at me, Liv,” he murmurs.
Lifting my eyes, I inhale a deep breath as I look up at him. His lips twitch into a small smile as he leans back slightly. Just watching him like this, I can picture him in New York, sitting behind a massive mahogany desk in a corner office, the cityscape behind him. The same smug look on his beautiful face.
“She confessed her feelings for him. She doesn’t want to marry her warrior. She wants to marry for love. She is willing to marry her warrior in the name of duty, before winter.”
“Does Gunnar love her, too?” I ask, shifting forward until I’m on the edge of the bench.
Aaric shrugs a shoulder. “I am unsure. He would not tell me even if he did. He would be afraid of the repercussions, not just as my warrior, but as my friend.”
“Best friend’s little sister,” I mutter to myself.
“Hmm?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Best friend’s little sister, it’s totally a trope. It’s kind of forbidden and sexy, too. I get it, totally.”
Aaric doesn’t say anything right away, he watches me, completely confused by what I’m saying. Instead of asking me, he shrugs off my words and clears his throat.
“So what happens if she doesn’t marry this guy from Faraway Isle?” I ask.
“War,” he says, his voice rumbling.
My eyes widen at his words. War. Yikes. “Gunnar cares for her, I see it in his eyes.”
He hums again, then lets out a heavy sigh. “I must make this decision by the time we return from the raid. I want what is best for all parties, Sylvi, Gunnar, and my people.”