Page 40 of Alliance Bride
“I barely know her.”
His mother hummed, unimpressed. “And whose fault is that?”
Aevar twisted thetaflpiece between his fingers, focusing on the small weight instead of his mother’s words. He’d provided for Eadlyn’s needs, made sure she was safe. What more did Móthir expect?
“I like her,” she said quietly.
Aevar gave her a sidelong look. He didn’t like the sound of where this was headed, but he knew better than to stop her.
“I think,” she continued, “if you gave it a chance, you two could be very happy together.”
He bit back a sigh. “I married her for the alliance.”
This drew a smirk to Móthir’s face. “I’m sure your father thought the same thing. At first.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” she asked, a glint in her eye.
He didn’t answer. There was no point.
Móthir rose from the bench. As she passed him, she bent down, kissed his temple, and murmured near his ear, “You two would give me beautiful grandchildren.”
Aevar snorted under his breath, shaking his head. That wasn’t likely to happen any time soon, if ever, considering their current arrangement. He glanced back toward Eadlyn. Trygg was chattering to her now. Despite her inability to understand anything he said, Eadlyn offered him her full attention, smiling patiently. The children, even Alvir, who was shy with newcomers, had really taken to her.
Some small, traitorous part of him wondered what life might look like if things were different and he and Eadlyn had a true relationship. But as his mother’s words lingered, cold sunk deep into his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose another wife or child. Couldn’t bear even taking the chance.
Soft goodnights echoed across the hall as everyone drifted to their rooms. Eadlyn remained by the door as Aevar moved around their chamber, lighting the lamps. Shadows danced across the walls as the flames caught and flickered across his features. Her mind centered on the conversation she’d had with Inga that morning. It had changed how she saw him and their situation. Even just sharing this space with her must be agony.
He turned and caught her staring. His brows drew together, puzzled.
Eadlyn hesitated, then stepped closer, gathering her courage. Some things needed to be said. “I’m sorry if my being here and wearing these clothes has caused you pain. I didn’t know.”
For a moment, he said nothing, and his gaze dropped away from hers. Unguarded suffering crossed his face. It stole her breath to witness it so plainly. She couldn’t change the fact that they were married or the necessity of sharing this room, but one thing was within her power.
“I will stop wearing them.” An ache squeezed her throat, but she kept her voice steady. “I will make something for myself.”
Aevar’s mouth tightened, not in anger, but in a way that betrayed grief. The loss shadowed his expression before he locked it down again. When he lifted his eyes to hers, they were resolute.
“No. You don’t need to. You are welcome to them.”
Eadlyn held his gaze a moment longer. She needed to be sure. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Compassion swelled, sharp and helpless. She felt it between them—the shared grief and the sacrifices neither of them had asked for but both carried. “I’m very sorry for your losses.”
Aevar dipped his chin in acknowledgment, but she caught the shimmer of moisture in his eyes before he turned his head away. This was the most vulnerable she had seen him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice roughened.
A long silence stretched between them, broken only when he cleared his throat. He looked at her again, his face composed, the mask back in place. His voice seemed lighter. “So, what are we reading tonight?”
Relief and sadness tangled inside her. “Tonight, I get to read you one of my favorite stories. Joseph.”
They finished preparing for bed and settled in for their nightly reading. When Eadlyn reached the part where Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery, Aevar let out a low chuckle.
“These people in your book are as devious and vengeful as the gods.”
