Page 45 of Alliance Bride
She didn’t ask whether he had raided Essix. She didn’t want to know. Not now, when things between them were easier.
He caught her eye. For a moment, something lingered in his gaze. A glint of understanding. Maybe even regret. He didn’t speak, but it felt like an apology just the same.
When the final longship pushed away from the dock, a chorus of farewells followed. Dozens of oars dug into the fjord in unison,churning up the water. Soon, a wide sweep of ships dotted the horizon, their long hulls cutting west toward the sea. The crowd dispersed, and Eadlyn spotted Oda farther down the beach, arms folded, her expression stony as she stared at her.
She wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Perhaps we should’ve ordered her onto one of the ships,” Erik muttered.
Braan motioned toward the water. “Some of the northern clans haven’t passed by yet. We can still toss her aboard.”
Kian raised his brows. “Sounds like a dangerous endeavor.”
“I’ll do it,” Heida said, settling her hands meaningfully on her twin axes.
Braan’s chuckle was low and dark. The brothers and Kian joined in. Oda’s face darkened further when she caught their eyes, and she spun around, storming away from the beach. Eadlyn might have felt sorry for her had she not brought it on herself.
Back at the longhouse, the mood was lighter. The sun shone across the village, hinting at the summer soon to come. With the men occupied and chores finished, the women gathered outside with their various projects. Alys and Nesta arranged chairs in the grass, and the children played nearby.
Eadlyn joined the women, careful not to tangle the threads of her tablet weaving as she sat. She tied one end of the trim to a short pole Alys had driven into the ground and the other end to her belt to keep tension on the warp. She passed the shuttle through, tamped down the row, and turned the tablets as Ranvi had shown her. For the thread, she had chosen blue, gray, and white—colors of the fjord—and while not as intricate as Ranvi’s work, it was the first piece she’d done on her own. Each row brought quiet contentment and pride.
“You’re getting good at that,” Inga said, leaning over to examine her progress.
“Tahk fyr.” The thank you still felt new on her tongue, but she used every opportunity to practice.
She wasn’t sure which meant more, the compliment or the genuine tone behind it. Her governess growing up had been strict. Not cruel but never kind. And when the noblewomen of Essix offered praise, it was often sugar-laced flattery. A bargaining tool more than the truth.
As they worked, the conversation drifted toward a few budding romances in the village, light laughter shared among the women. This sparked Eadlyn’s curiosity. She glanced toward Inga. “How did you and Runar meet?”
A fond smile creased Inga’s age-lined face. “Much like you and Aevar did.”
Eadlyn paused, shifting her full attention to her mother-in-law.
“I’m from one of the western clans. Jarl Skaldar is my brother,” Inga said, setting her work in her lap. “There was bad blood between my father and Runar’s, like between Runar and Staegar. Enough that the other clans feared a war would split us all. So Runar’s father proposed a marriage between Runar and me.”
Another alliance bride.
“My father brought me here to the Gathering when I was seventeen. Because of the strain between our clans, I had never attended before, so I had never met Runar.” She peered out toward the fjord, a faraway look in her eyes. “But I still remember seeing him for the first time, standing on the dock, so strong and handsome.”
Eadlyn shared a grin with Ranvi and caught a giggle fromNesta where she and Alys worked on spinning a little farther away.
Inga just smiled.
Ranvi leaned toward her. “I’m sure he was equally smitten.”
Inga nodded in happy agreement.
“Were you afraid?” Eadlyn asked, thinking of the terror she had lived with before coming here. The uncertainties must have been just as great for Inga, especially with the tension between their families.
“Yes, but he treated me kindly, and I soon found myself at ease with him.”
Like Aevar. “And you fell in love?”
“We did.”
The warmth in her voice stirred something in Eadlyn. She had not married for love or even companionship, yet a corner of her heart still desired it. Was it possible for her and Aevar to share the same story as Inga and Runar? Of course, they had more to overcome in their vastly different backgrounds and the scars Aevar carried from the past. Yet, like a tiny ember kept sheltered in a jar, she lifted the hope up in prayer.
Aevar smiled at the way Trygg’s laughter echoed through the air as he approached the longhouse. His nephew’s voice rose in a tangle of words loud enough to reach halfway across the village. He didn’t know anyone as enthusiastic about life as that boy. It was infectious. Untouched. Aevar reached for the Thor’s hammer amulet resting against his chest, a habit so familiar he hardlythought about it. The weight of it pressed against his palm, and for a moment, he considered sending up a silent prayer. A simple wish that the world wouldn’t crush the boy’s spirit.
