Page 137 of Ironling
Heartened by her friends’ words, Aislinn nodded and led the way from her rooms. Outside, her guards waited to flank her, and all of them began their quiet procession to the great hall.
The walk seemed to take far longer than it usually did, and it wasn’t all due to her heavy skirts. Aislinn’s pulse thrummed at her dry throat, and she clutched the wooden rose Hakon had whittled her in her pocket for comfort.
The great hall was already full when the herald announced her arrival, and the soft shift of fabrics as people turned to watch her ascend the few steps murmured through the large space. When she gained the top of the dais, she stood beside her father’s seat and folded her hands behind her back.
Her next breath wobbled as Aislinn looked out at all the curious faces staring back at her.
It was more than Aislinn’s calling an army that saw the great hall so full. Most must be curious to see what would happen at the first Choosing in decades.
“Well,” she said, ensuring her voice carried, “shall I get to choosing?”
A nervous rumble of laughter went through the crowd.
Aislinn focused on her breathing and holding her wan smile.She spied Sorcha and Fia from the corner of her eye offering looks of sympathy and support, and it was enough to calm her nerves. But oh, she wished she didn’t stand up here alone. She wished she didn’t have to entertain such a silly scheme. She wished her own choice, her heart’s choice, was there in the hall himself.
But then, perhaps it was better if Hakon wasn’t there to witness the Choosing. Aislinn remembered her jealousy at the maids fawning over him and could only imagine what a Choosing would be like for him.
That assumed, of course, that his feelings for her went anywhere near as deep as hers did for him.
He has to care for me.She’d been wrong about men, about a lot of things, before, but she didn’t think she was wrong about Hakon.
Maybe seeing him burn with jealousy would be her answer.
Or maybe she just wished to see his face, to draw strength and comfort knowing he was there.
It didn’t matter now, though. She’d never know, because he wasn’t there.
Her gaze fell on Bayard as he strode forward, exuding confidence and wealth. His dove-gray doublet was studded with silver thread, his velvet trou molding to his lithe legs, and a fur-trimmed capelet embroidered with his family crest draped from his shoulders. His brown curls were glossy and all in perfect placement, and a ring glinted on every finger.
He smiled at her, exposing the dimples that bracketed his mouth, and if Aislinn knew nothing of him, he might seem charming and handsome. A perfectly genteel suitor come to press his suit.
Bowing to her, Bayard gracefully knelt onto one knee.
“I am Baron Padraic Bayard, here to offer myself for the hand of Lady Aislinn Darrow. I am the only son of my house, lordof Endelín, and am a cousin thrice removed to Queen Ygraine herself on my mother’s side. There are no richer vineyards than those of Endelín, no home so beautiful as mine, and…”
Aislinn stood as still as she could as Bayard laid out the many fine things he could offer her. Wealth, status, comfort.
Except, she already had all those things.
There was only one man she’d met in her whole life who could offer her not only what she truly wanted but needed, too. Comfort, support, friendship. She wanted a man who made her life richer from his very presence, who filled her life with love and acceptance.
She didn’t need fine fabrics and glittering jewels—just the whittled rose she treasured and the heart of the man she loved.
Oh, fates, I love him.
In the maelstrom of Jerrod’s imminent return, she hadn’t been able to put words to all the feelings she held for Hakon. In her heart of hearts, she feared naming it would make it too real, and with all the threats looming over her and Dundúran, it seemed foolish to try her luck anymore. There was a chance she could lose her father, her title, her very life—she wasn’t ready to lose her heart, too.
Then again, perhaps it’d been lost long ago, when he smiled at her under the floppy hat she made him wear, or when he taught her his hand-talk.
Good gods, I’ve loved him since I knew him.
“…my stables are stocked with no less than fifty of the finest horses, and my cellars overrun with good harvests…”
Aislinn could hardly stomach listening to Bayard rattle off his noble attributes, and she wasn’t the only one grateful when someone coughed loudly.
“Get on with it, lad,” Earl Starley muttered.
A tick in Bayard’s cheek jumped, but he smiled to smooth it over. “I offer all this, as well as my title, my protection, and myloyalty.”
