Page 138 of Ironling
His last words hung in the air, and as he gazed up at Aislinn, his meaning was perfectly clear.
Silence reigned for a long moment as Bayard continued to kneel.
“Are there any other suits?” Aislinn forced herself to ask.
Bayard looked over his shoulder, a good-natured, boyish smile on his face that fell when Baron Burgoyne strode forward.
Aislinn looked on in surprise as the baron got to one knee—with some effort. His fiery red hair had begun to gray at the temples, as he was closer in age to Merrick Darrow than Aislinn. Burgoyne was a pleasant man with a loud sense of humor, and his eyes twinkled as he grinned up at her.
Winking up from where he knelt, Burgoyne announced, “I hope you’ll forgive me, my lady, but I had to give into temptation. And,” he leaned forward, whispering loudly, “I figured you’d appreciate a choice other than this prick.”
The crowd sniggered, and Bayard gave up all pretense of pleasantry. Frowning darkly at his new rival, Bayard hissed, “And what would you be able to do with a young bride, Burgoyne?”
“Far more than you, lad,” Burgoyne whispered back.
The crowd laughed and tittered, and Aislinn couldn’t help blushing. She didn’t mind the levity so much, but shehatedthat everyone’s thoughts were now on who would bed her better.
As Burgoyne began to list his own attributes, Aislinn glanced to the side at Sorcha. Her friend shared her grimace.
Next, Aislinn looked for Captain Aodhan and easily found him near the main double doors to the great hall. He gave her a subtle nod, eyes pointing her toward where several of her own knights were slowly making their way through the crowd to surround Bayard and the five guards he’d brought with him.
The sight gave her confidence, enough to listen patiently asBurgoyne made his own show of the Choosing, bringing the crowd to fits of giggles, mostly at Bayard’s expense.
Aislinn wished she could indulge in the humor, but her insides twisted with nerves as his speech wound down. In a moment, it’d be time to choose.
When Burgoyne finished, his booming voice left an echo in the great hall. The air lost its levity as the crowd seemed to lean forward, waiting with bated breath to hear her decision. They held perfectly still, except in the back, where bodies were moving out of the way of one figure, taller than the rest.
Aislinn couldn’t look long, turning her attention to the two suitors knelt before her.
It’s time.
Her throat closed around the words, but she forced herself to say, “If there are no more suitors—”
“There is one more.”
A gasp rang out, followed by another and another, a wave of noise that parted the crowd.
Aislinn’s heart stuttered to a stop.
Hakon walked with an even gait through the parting crowd. The hall held its breath as he made his way forward, coming to stand alongside the kneeling lords. Keeping her gaze enthralled with his, he knelt before the dais.
“I am Hakon Green-Fist, here to offer myself for the hand of Lady Aislinn Darrow.”
The crowd erupted in noise, bafflement and surprise trumpeting to the rafters.
Above it all came Bayard’s incensed voice. “He cannot suit! He’s a blacksmith! Anorc!”
“Any suitor may make their suit,” Aislinn said through lips she didn’t feel, unable to move her gaze from the man she loved kneeling before her.
He looked…so handsome. His hair had been trimmed, andan iron torque sat round his neck, polished to a high shine. The leather coat he wore fit snugly to his great chest, embellished with silver and iron at the shoulders and cuffs. A belt circled his thick waist, the buckle studded with gems and worked into intricate whorls. Boots of fine leather encased his calves, tooled with motifs and hemmed in metal.
He looked every bit an orcish prince come down from his mountain to claim the human maiden.
He took Aislinn’s breath away.
He’s here.
“I am not noble, nor full-human. What I am is in love with you, my lady. You already have my heart, and no matter what happens today, whatever you decide, you will always have it and my loyalty.”
