Page 18 of Alliance Bride
It was as if the fact they were married meant they should have some sort of relationship, but they didn’t, and she had no sense of what their future life together might hold. Marrying an Essian lord would have made expectations much clearer. Other than no doubt being expected to produce and care for children, she didn’t know what day-to-day life was like for a Nord wife.
Starting a family with a man she hardly knew was the last thing she wanted to think about, so she forced her mind on her surroundings instead.
A couple of hours after breaking camp, they encountered the steepest climb yet. Eadlyn braced herself in the saddle, Hiroc working hard beneath her, his hooves scraping over stone and root. Ahead, the trees thinned out. Without warning, they crested the incline and emerged onto a rocky plateau.
Her breath caught.
To their left, the land dropped away steeply, and far below, water spread like a sheet of polished sapphire, rimmed by jagged mountains. On the near side of the fjord, buildings roofed with thatch and sod nestled between the shore and the sloping, wooded hills. Though barely visible, she spotted docks jutting out into the water and longships moored alongside them.
“There she is,” Kian said, turning in his saddle with a grin. “Your first look at Fjellheim.”
Her new home.
The words hung in the chilly morning air. She glanced at Aevar. He sat with a smile, not forced or formal, but one of comfortable ease. The expression of a man returning to the placehe belonged. If only Eadlyn shared that feeling. She turned her thoughts heavenward before the ache in her chest intensified.
Lord, I’ve entered a completely strange land and do not know my place in it. Guide me the way You did the Israelites, and help me be much more attentive to Your leading than they were at times. Show me where and how You can use me. Please grant me peace and protection, as well as courage in facing the unknown.
The descent toward the fjord was long and winding. The path narrowed in places, forcing them single file. Eadlyn focused on her horse’s movements, the cool wind brushing her cheeks and tugging strands of her hair. The sharp freshness of pine gave way to damp, mossy earth and a hint of salt as they drew nearer the fjord.
When they broke through the trees again and onto the beach, the world opened wide. The fjord’s shoreline curved, waves lapping against dark, coarse sand. The breeze off the water was sharper here, and Eadlyn pulled her cloak tighter.
Ahead, Fjellheim stretched before them, and she caught the sounds of village life. Boots scuffed packed dirt, hammers rang from the smithy, laughter and shouting rose from children as they dashed between homes, chasing one another and scattering chickens in their wake. A goat bleated from a pen near one house, and beyond it, a pair of men sparred with wooden staves, their grunts and strikes echoing over the sounds of labor.
The villagers turned as their party rode in. Most called greetings to Runar and the others, but their attention lingered on her. Eadlyn sat straighter, trying to return their stares with an open, calm expression, neither too proud nor too timid. Still, her pulse quickened under their gaze as if she were an exotic bird perched in the middle of a wolf pack.
The women especially drew her eye. They moved with quietstrength, their practical woolen dresses and braided hair both beautiful and rugged. A couple wore trousers like the men, and one striking woman even had her pale blonde hair shaved on one side, braids adorning the other. Several carried knives or axes on their belts. They might have been for utilitarian purposes, but it appeared even the Nord women were prepared to fight, or at least defend themselves should the need arise. The most lethal thing Eadlyn had ever wielded was a pair of embroidery snips. She let out a quiet breath. Hopefully, Aevar hadn’t always dreamed of a warrior wife.
As they passed deeper into the village, the group thinned. The men who had accompanied them split off with waves or brief goodbyes until only Aevar’s family and Kian remained. They followed a wide path that angled toward the far side of the village, where the forest pressed close once more. There, at the edge of the trees, stood a structure so large it stopped Eadlyn’s breath all over again.
It rose like a barn, but larger and more refined, clearly built for more than animals. Its massive roof arched steeply, heavy with thatch. The wide door stood open to reveal dancing firelight and the shadows of a vast interior.
“This is our longhouse,” Aevar said from beside her.
Our. The word rang louder than it should have.
This was it. Not just a destination,thedestination. The place where her new life would truly start. It didn’t help that her mind chose that moment to remind her she’d heard Nord families lived and slept all together in one hall, not in separate, private chambers. That meant anything and everything about her and between her and Aevar would be on display in front of his entire family. For the first time since the morning of their wedding, she thought she might be sick.
Before the feeling overwhelmed her, the others dismounted. She followed their example, focusing on the small motions of slipping from the saddle, straightening her skirts, and adjusting her cloak. One thing at a time.
A sudden flurry of high-pitched voices drew her attention. Two children—a dark-haired boy of about six and a golden-haired girl no more than three—burst from the longhouse. They ran straight to Erik, who caught them both in strong arms, kissing their cheeks and grinning at their eager chatter.
Behind them came two women. One, not much older than Eadlyn, was slender and dark-haired, a young toddler perched on her hip, his plump cheeks rosy and his thumb planted in his mouth. She approached Erik with a soft smile. Still holding both older children, he bent to kiss her, setting off a loud protest from the boy.
Despite herself, Eadlyn smiled. For all their strange customs, this was familiar. A man who loved his wife. A family unashamed of affection. Maybe not so different from Essix after all.
She shifted her attention to another, no less affectionate, reunion between an older woman and Runar. Clearly his wife and Aevar’s mother.
Eadlyn’s new mother-in-law.
The woman was taller than Erik’s wife, with strength in the set of her shoulders and a calmness in her manner. Not a warrior, but not someone to be underestimated. Eadlyn shrank a little. Would she be accepted here? Welcomed?
Suddenly, Aevar stood at her side, closer than she’d realized. His presence was solid, yet uncertainty weighed on his stance and in the slight tilt of his brow. Maybe he didn’t know what to do either. His mother greeted Erik and Braan with upbeat, rapidwords Eadlyn couldn’t hope to understand, but then the woman turned and spotted her. The smile on her face shifted to one of curiosity. A question followed in that unfamiliar tongue.
For a heartbeat, no one answered. Then Aevar’s hand rested lightly against Eadlyn’s back, the first intentional touch since they’d held hands during their wedding. She wasn’t sure if it steadied her or made it harder to breathe.
At last, Aevar spoke in Aerlish. “This is Princess Eadlyn, King Edward’s sister.” A pause. “My wife.”
The change in the women’s expressions was immediate, surprise rippling across their faces. Smiles faded, and Eadlyn fought the urge to flinch beneath their stares. If her brother had returned home unexpectedly married, she wouldn’t know what to think either.
