Page 35 of Alliance Bride
“Don’t worry. No one will try anything and live to tell of it.”
The idea of the sacrifices left a sour taste in Eadlyn’s mouth, stealing whatever appetite she might have had. She had no desire to witness bloodshed, especially not in the name of pagan gods. It still surprised her that Aevar had respected her wishes and allowed her to stay behind. As her husband, he could have forced her to attend. For that mercy, she silently whispered a prayer of thanks.
And possibly, she dared hope, the Scriptures she had read to him the night before had planted a seed. That he had listened with genuine curiosity still felt like a small miracle. Even Edward had never shown such interest, swayed by the likes of Father Bened—who viewed faith as a source of power and wealth—into believing that moral superiority was enough.
She was still mulling over these things when Aevar pulled her aside as the others prepared to leave. “Kian will remain behind so you won’t be here by yourself.”
Being alone in the longhouse had not occurred to her until now. She wasn’t sure where the sacrifices took place, but probably far enough away that no one could help her if trouble arose. She was grateful Aevar took her safety seriously.
The hall emptied, leaving only her and Kian behind. He leaned against one table, a half-eaten hunk of bread in his hand. His smile was easy and reassuring. “So, how are you settling in? I imagine it’s been overwhelming, what with the Gathering so soon afteryour arrival.”
“A little. It’s been better than I anticipated, though. I think the hardest part is being unable to communicate. Especially now, with so many guests.”
“You’ll pick it up quicker than you think. Besides, half the people here barely speak it properly themselves.” Kian winked, and she laughed.
Her attention drifted to thetaflboard left abandoned nearby. She picked up the king piece, studying its strange design. It seemed to be carved in the likeness of one of the Nord gods with its serious, imposing expression rather than an Essian king.
“Do you play?” Kian asked.
She set the piece back on the board. “Yes, I played quite often with Galen, the commander of our royal guard. He’s the one who taught me.”
Kian’s eyes gleamed with recognition. “Tall fellow? Looked like he was deciding whether to murder Aevar at your wedding?”
A bittersweet smile surfaced as she recalled that morning. “That would be him. He’s always been very protective of me. We tried teaching Edward to play, but he never had the patience for it.”
Kian chuckled, low and easy. “I’m no Galen, but if you want a game to pass the time, I’m your man. I warn you though, I cheat shamelessly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Eadlyn settled on the bench across from him. As they arranged the pieces, she asked, “Where do the sacrifices happen?”
“Old shrines in the forest, about a mile from here. Nice hike if you like mud and midges.”
Eadlyn laughed and then paused before asking, “Do you think Aevar would ever be open to Christianity?”
Kian’s expression was unreadable as he considered the question. “Hard to say. He’s not the sort to change his mind easily. But I’ve seen him do impossible things before.”
Hope flickered in Eadlyn’s chest. She studied Kian for a moment. Talta considered itself a Christian kingdom, but she didn’t know how seriously they practiced their faith. “What about you? Where does your faith lie?”
“My parents dragged me to church more than a few times as a boy. Taught me my prayers. I believe I’d be dead right now at the hands of the Kalgorans if God hadn’t brought Aevar along when He did.”
So, a surface-level belief. “I’ll keep you in my prayers. And Aevar and his family.”
Kian’s grin returned. “I’ll take all the prayers I can get.”
They played for a while, exchanging light-hearted barbs and friendly conversation. Kian was a clever opponent, though he made exaggerated groans and wild accusations of sabotage every time she foiled one of his attempts to capture her king.
“You’re clearly cheating,” he accused at one point, squinting at her. “I can see it on your face.”
“I assure you I’m not,” Eadlyn said, laughing.
“You smile too much for an honest player,” he grumbled, though the twinkle in his eye gave him away.
But the light mood fractured when he stiffened, his attention on the door. Eadlyn followed his gaze. Sig sauntered toward the longhouse with all the arrogance of a cat who thought he owned the world.
“Just what Aevar was afraid of,” Kian muttered under his breath.
He moved swiftly, slipping the seax knife from his belt. He pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for her to stay quiet, and ducked behind a pillar. Eadlyn remained seated, her heart thudding as Sig entered the hall. His eyes swept the room before locking onto her.
“Hello, Princess. Here all alone?” His Aerlish was clumsy, and his voice oozed false charm.
