Page 38 of Alliance Bride
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Yes.” He hesitated a beat, as if even he wasn’t sure why he was here. “Everyone’s getting drunk. With more competitions tomorrow, there’s an advantage to staying sober.” He shrugged, something almost like a chagrined smile taking hold. “Like your Holy Book says.”
Eadlyn couldn’t dampen her own smile as she watched him cross to his corner, unbuckling his sword belt and shrugging off his leather jerkin. A brief wince crossed his face. After seeing the day’s brutal matches, she had no doubt the soreness was fierce tonight.
He wandered to the small shelf holding a polished mirror and inspected the cut along his brow. Though he’d washed after the competitions, traces of dried blood still clung to his skin and streaked down his neck. He wet a cloth in the basin and started cleaning up, missing the flecks of blood around his eye that were hard to see in the dim light.
“You still have a little blood on your face.”
He frowned, trying to find it, and she pushed to her feet. “Here, let me help.”
She stretched out her hand for the cloth. Aevar hesitated for a moment before handing it over, and she stepped closer. Carefully, she dabbed the cloth around his eye, loosening the dried blood. Without realizing what she was doing, she raised her other hand to tip his chin down so she could see better.
Their eyes locked.
Eadlyn’s heart did an odd flip. Not even during their wedding ceremony had they been this close. Something flickered across his face before he blinked and stepped back. She dropped her hand and retreated just as quickly, heat rising to her face. Clearing her throat, she managed a breathless, “I think I got it.”
Aevar only nodded before striding back across the room. She was still trying to calm the sudden swirl of emotions when he tugged his tunic off. She averted her gaze, but not before glimpsing the well-defined muscles of his shoulders and back. Her face burned hotter.
Against her better judgment, she glanced back. This time the muscles didn’t hold her attention, but the dark splotches already blooming into bruises and a long, pale scar slashing from his shoulder to halfway down his back.
Curiosity got the better of her. “How did you get that scar?”
He turned toward her, fresh tunic in hand, and she fought not to blush yet again. He, however, didn’t seem as flustered to catch her watching him.
“Last spring we were ambushed by Kalgorans while hunting up north. One of them dropped from a tree with a knife. If he’d been a grown man instead of a boy, I’d probably be dead.”
Eadlyn winced, fighting to keep her eyes on his face rather than his bare torso, though she did notice the hammer pendant he wore. She’d seen the darkened metal amulet peeking out of his tunic a time or two before and had learned it was a symbol of their god Thor. “I thought you had a truce with them?”
“We do. But it doesn’t stop raiders from crossing into Nordra to cause trouble.” To Eadlyn’s relief, he slipped on the clean tunic. “Their so-called king claims ignorance. Says they’re rogues. Maybe they are. But dealing with a few raiders is better than open war.”
“How long has the truce been in place?”
“Three years.”
“And how many battles have you fought?”
“Five major battles.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “Many more skirmishes.”
Eadlyn marveled to think of him surviving so many. “How old were you when you started fighting?”
“I was fifteen the first time I rode with my father and brothers to defend the northern border.”
Fifteen. She thought of Edward at that age and couldn’t imagine him in that position even now. She prayed Galen could turn him into the strong man he needed to be to lead Essix successfully. He had so much to learn, and pressure squeezed her lungs not to be there and help him find his way. The sudden longing for home was so strong it constricted her throat.
Her thoughts snapped back to Aevar as he settled onto his furs.
“We can read again if you’d like,” he said.
At those words, the bout of melancholy lifted, and a fresh hope bloomed in its place. It was as if God were giving her a quiet confirmation that she belonged here in Nordra, not Essix.
Chapter Fourteen
EadlynobservedasIngaworked the loom with practiced hands and explained each step along the way. The upright frame, as tall as Eadlyn herself, leaned against the wall on one of the platforms, stone weights at the bottom holding the warp threads taut. A half-finished length of woven wool stretched across it, destined to become someone’s new dress or tunic. Beside it, another loom stood with the beginnings of an exquisite tapestry. Ranvi sat there, bent over her work, her shuttle weaving in and out of the jewel-toned yarn. Someday, perhaps, Eadlyn would learn to weave such intricate beauty. For now, she was content to master something simpler.
After passing the shuttle, wound with wool, through the vertical warp threads, Inga picked up what looked like a wooden comb and tamped the new row into place with a few sure strokes. “There. Now you try.”
She stepped aside with an encouraging smile, and Eadlyn traded places with her. Mimicking the movements she had watched, she guided the shuttle through. It took more effort to settle theweft evenly, not pulling too tight or letting it sag, but when she finished, Inga gave a small nod of approval.
