Page 140 of Master of Storms
I will not let you break me,she’d said once.
But he’d come close, hadn’t he?
He’d seen the way she looked at him when she thought her expression guarded.
Solveig wasn’t denying him because she felt nothing for him. She’d hauled her shields into place because she felttoomuch.
“Well?” Árdís set her hands on her hips. “Would you care to elaborate? Or continue staring at me blankly?”
She came back into focus, cutting through the image of Solveig that he’d conjured.
“Sometimes,” he told her. “You’re the most frustratingpain in my ass.” When Árdís opened her mouth to argue, he stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. “And sometimes, you are wise beyond your years. You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’ve been looking at this all wrongly. I keep thinking about what she’s telling me, but I haven’t been thinking about what she’s not telling me.”
Árdís caught his sleeve. “Don’t break her heart, Marduk.”
And he had to ask, though his voice roughened. “Do I have it?”
Árdís pressed her lips thinly together. She would not break Solveig’s confidences and he respected her for that. But it was confirmation enough.
The breath burst from his lungs.Hell.
He was going to kick her ass for not telling him.
“Marduk?” Árdís called as he reached the door.
He shot her a look.
“It’s not the bond she’s truly afraid of,” she told him. “Tell her how you feel.”
* * *
Tell her how you feel.
Marduk ground his teeth together and climbed the stairs to where Solveig was sparring with her own shadow on the top of the tower. The keep was a stirred anthill, and it had taken him two hours to track her down. In the distance, storm clouds rumbled as if they sensed thedrekicall to arms.
“What are you doing out of bed?” he demanded, as she drew back into a defensive stance, brushing her sweaty hair from her eyes.
By the look of her, she’d spent every moment of those two hours shadowboxing.
“Do I look like I plan to fight this war flat on my back?” Solveig barely lowered her fists. “I need to know how bad the damage is.”
“And?” There was no point arguing with her. As much as he wanted to wrap her in a safe cocoon right now, doing so would only earn him a rousing fight.
Solveig broke away from him, heading for the small tray one of the servants must have placed on a nearby table. She poured a glass of water and drained it. “I’m fine.”
“Solveig—”
She turned on him. “I am my father’s war marshal, and as soon as Draco’s scouts catch a glimpse of Elin and thosealfar, I intend to go hunting.”
“Can you even fly, right now?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Fight me.” She spun, lashing out with a kick, which he caught against his shoulder.
“No,” he said. “Aren’t we done fighting?”
Wind whipped her hair across her face, and she looked at him with her heart in her eyes. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“You think it’s easy for me?” He took pity on her and let her go. “Fine. If you beat me, then I’ll shut my mouth and not fuss over you as you ride for war. But if I win, then you will concede: You will let me go south in your place and bring your father’s warband back north for you. You’ll get another day to heal.”
