Page 41 of Ironling
“He wants to claim the abandoned estate on the north side of the forest,” Lady Aislinn said, her expression unreadable.
“Scarborough?” said Sorcha.
“Yes. He’s sending his petition in again for me. The previous ones must have gotten lost—or father didn’t remember to send them over. I’ll have to look into it.”
Her answers were solace enough to herd the beast back behind the cage of his ribs. With effort, his temper cooled, and the rumbling in his chest went quiet.
When he glanced at Orek, his friend only looked on gravely.
Nothing else needed to be said.
“We should return before it gets dark, my lady,” said one of the knights.
Lady Aislinn agreed, and so farewells were said and promises of a future visit made. Hakon shook Orek’s hand in the human way and accepted a small peck on the cheek from Sorcha. The Brádaigh children all patted Wülf a final time and extracted promises from Lady Aislinn for more gifts on her next visit.
Hakon held out his hand to help her climb into the chaise.She took it without hesitation, slipping her palm along his. A frisson of awareness crackled from his arm down his spine, and he couldn’t help a deep breath, taking in her sweet scent.
Fates, I’m a stupid male.
He climbed up after her, the children tittering at seeing the chaise sway under his weight. When they were settled, they waved farewell as the knights mounted their horses.
With a gentlecrackof the reins, Lady Aislinn had them back on the road, on their way home to Dundúran.
The day had long since waned, and it would be dark before they reached the outskirts of the city. Still, Hakon wouldn’t take this for granted—a little time with her would soothe him, he knew it.
He opened his mouth to ask her a question, to get her started on one of her topics, when she turned to him first, her eyes glittering with interest, and said, “Tell me everything you know about the fae—and unicorns.”
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Even if he could never have her as his mate, Hakon resolved that he could at least be a friend to Lady Aislinn. Surely that would be all right. It sated the beast, who was restless and unhappy until she was near, and gave his more reasonable head time to select someone he could truly build a life with.
His beast may have grumbled at the thought, but Hakon knew living in a fantasy would get him nowhere. The life he planned to build and have was simple, stable. What his grandparents had.
So, he could chat with the heiress, admire her brilliance, and build her new contraptions to please and delight her. If he so happened to save the image of her smiles, the golden hue of her curls lit by the afternoon sun, or the angle of her brows as she puzzled over a problem, well, so be it.
He was sure once his head was turned by someone else, he wouldn’t remember those things so vividly. He just had to give himself the opportunity to have his head turned.
Hakon took Lady Aislinn’s suggestion of eating with the other staff in the dining hall. Wülf took to it quicker than him, learningthat by sitting on his haunches looking stately, more than a few hands were likely to slip him scraps. Hakon forced himself to go, and eventually, he grew accustomed to the pleasant chatter that flowed around him.
He was slowly getting better at reading human lips, and he practiced during the meals, making sure to track who was speaking and listen carefully to what was said.
There were more than a few maids, cooks, and gardeners who eyed him across the table. He did his best to pay them some attention, to learn names and faces and who did what.
He found one cook, Tilly, quite humorous, and she always had the table in stitches with her stories. Brigitt, Claire, and Fia were all beautiful—although Fia was his favorite, mostly because she often spoke of Lady Aislinn. Hakon swallowed every tidbit more greedily than his meal and was always hungry for more.
Yet as the weeks passed, he was no closer to finding someone he might want to ask for a turn about the courtyard or to take into the city for a meal. There were many more people in the city itself he’d yet to meet, but his time was consumed with castle work—and Lady Aislinn’s projects.
He’d long since finished her sharp little shears, and afterwards quickly made himself a pair of his own.
“You truly don’t have to,” Lady Aislinn insisted as they stood together in her mother’s rose garden one afternoon. She’d been throwing him concerned looks for at least ten minutes.
“I want to,” he assured her. He grinned down at her, hoping to relieve her worry, but then she smiled back, dazzling despite being shaded by her floppy straw hat. Another treasure for his hoard of her, more precious than the gems that sat hidden under the floorboards of his room.
Clearing his throat, he added, “It’s good to get out of the forge. See the sun.”
“That’s certainly true,” she laughed. “We can’t have you goingpale.” Then her brows arched nearly to her hairline. “Does orc skin darken in the sun? Can the sun burn you?”
Her eyes caught that glint of curiosity, and suddenly her hand was on his bare skin, her fingertips running down the curve of his upper arm.
