Page 53 of Heart of Iron
A fanfare sounded and the ranks of Norwegians parted to allow someone through.The verwulfen had won the battle; everyone was craning their necks to see who deserved such a fanfare.
A young woman stepped through the clans.
“Oh,” Lena murmured.
A hush fell over the crowd.It was well-deserved.Not only was the woman tall and shapely, with a well-formed bosom, but she had the kind of face that could stun a ballroom to silence.A cascade of loose blond waves fell to her waist and a gold circlet sat upon her brow.She wore nothing more than a simple white dress, with a rakish wolf skin thrown over one shoulder, yet she had no need of more.Gold and gems would only have gone unnoticed in the wake of her pillowy lips and glorious bone structure.
“Jaysus.”Will arched a brow.
A hot little spark burned inside her gut.Lena stepped on his foot and put all her miniscule weight into it.“Shut your mouth before you choke on something,” she snapped.“She’s notthatpretty.”
Aware that he was still watching her, she looked around.The heat of his gaze lingered on her skin and she found herself fanning rather more rapidly.
“You’re jealous?I thought this were only a game?”
The fan slowed.She looked up into the burning intensity of his gaze.The words were lightly said, but the look on his face was anything but.“I’m not.Look at her all you want.I don’t care.But my intention is to make you appear somewhat more than a gaping rookery-bred bumpkin, is it not?You want to impress them?”
Whilst she wanted to alienate them.
Her grip on the fan tightened as the bite of guilt filled her.“Don’t stare at me,” she whispered.
“You’re still the most beautiful woman I ever clapped eyes on.”
A pitter-patter in her chest.“You shouldn’t say such things.”
He shrugged.As if it meant nothing to him.
Whilst it meant the world to her.
A thousand meaningless compliments had tumbled from blue blood lips over her time at court.Words meant to charm and seduce.But Will never said anything he didn’t mean.Something in her chest warmed.
Then she deflated.If he knew she intended to destroy the treaty, he’d be furious.There would be no more smiles her way, no more compliments.Will would hate her.Lena’s fingers curled around the fan, a rash of heat springing into her eyes.She looked away swiftly, swallowing hard.He could never know.Winning the Scandinavian’s support was not as important as Charlie’s life.
“You know a great deal about ’em,” Will said, as the prince consort stepped forward and nodded at the Swedish ambassador.The formal words of greeting were exchanged, along with rather a lot of edged smiles and shaken hands.
The ambassador bowed before the queen, the curve of his back deeper than what he’d offered the prince consort.He had to know who truly ruled Britain; this was an insult, one of the first of many, no doubt.
Perhaps her task would not be so difficult after all?
“I was curious.”And she’d needed to know who her targets would be.Again an uneasy churn of guilt turned her stomach.
“This Magnus,” he murmured.“He’s in charge of the Norwegians?”
She wouldn’t deny him the information she’d spent hours gossiping to achieve.“There are only five remaining clans left in Norway.Magnus rules one, but for this delegation he speaks with their voices.The true source of power in Norway is Valdemar Einarsson, the jarl of all the clans.”Another stolen glance at the young woman bowing to the queen.“She must be his daughter, the Lady Astrid.”
“What happens once they all finish bowin’ and scrapin’?”
“We retire to the Ivory Tower and the welcoming ball begins.”
A slight hint of unease in his eyes.
“Yes, Will.Dancing,” she said, relishing the moment.“Now we see if you’ve retained any of my lessons.”
***
Light glittered.The official state ballroom walls bore mirror after mirror, the edges scrolled with gilt and interspersed with elegant paintings.Will paused at the top of the red carpeted stairs as his name and Lena’s were announced.
Hundreds of faces turned his way.Blue bloods, verwulfen, and human alike.A brief scan of the crowd revealed the Norwegians gathered in the corner, expressions wary and considering.The Fenrir locked gazes with him, his black eye patch distinctly out of odds here in this gleaming paradise.Fur bristled on his shoulders and his iron-gray beard spoke of the weight of years.Will felt as if he’d been weighed and measured by that single eye.
