Page 20 of Alliance Bride
Without a word, Aevar took a small soapstone oil lamp from the table and rose. His voice, when it came, was low and unreadable. “Come. I’ll show you our room.”
Eadlyn stood, her legs wobbling beneath her, and followed him. They entered the room she had seen him carry their belongings into earlier. The dim circle of lamplight illuminated a bed set against the far wall, piled with blankets. Aevar moved about the room without haste, lighting a few more lamps placed in the corners. The glow spread across the timber walls, softening the harsh lines of the room into something almost welcoming. Almost.
Then he closed the door behind them. The lump in her throat climbed higher, choking her. Now her heart hammered so violently it was a wonder he did not hear it. She locked her hands together to keep them from trembling.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncertain. Eadlyn forced herself to face him and found him watching her with a slight furrow to his brow. Her cheeks flamed. Surely he read every frantic thought as clearly as if she had spelled them out.
Then, at last, he spoke. “I will sleep on the floor.”
For a moment, she thought she must have misheard him over the wild pounding in her ears.
He continued, and his tone softened almost gently. “You may take the bed. I will not force you to share it. That is by your invitation alone.”
A shuddering breath left her lungs, and she sagged. In one way she felt she had failed in her duty as an alliance bride, but a bigger part of her was so thankful she could have cried. She’d never expected this kindness from him. Blinking to keep the tears in check, she met his gaze again.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, a simple gesture that somehow made her feel as though he truly understood the level of her gratitude, and turned to a pile of furs in the corner she hadn’t even noticed before. He must have carried them in during the day, which meant he’d had no intention of sleeping with her tonight. Her respect for him deepened, twining itself through the wary knots in her chest.
As he busied himself arranging a bed on the floor, Eadlyn gathered her frayed composure. Only now did she realize how badly she trembled. She pressed a hand to her stomach, drawing slow breaths until the tremors eased.
Watching him, she hesitated, then took a tentative step closer. “This is your room. You should keep your bed. I will sleep on the floor.”
He peered over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. “No. You are a lady. You will have the bed. My mother would skin me alive if she found out I let you sleep on the floor.”
Despite herself, a small, breathless laugh broke free. “Your mother seems to be a very formidable woman. I suppose she would have to be, to raise three sons.”
He smiled—not the tight, guarded smile he usually wore, but one touched with genuine fondness. “She is.” He paused as if contemplating, something like regret taking over his expression. “Iwould have prepared you a room of your own, but if this alliance is to work, we must at least give the appearance you and I are fully joined in marriage. Not all the jarls will be pleased my father agreed to the alliance. If they think there is any weakness in it, they will exploit it.”
His words caught her off guard. Not the warning, but the candid way he shared it with her. They’d said so very little of anything important to each other since meeting, and she realized she had even less knowledge of what sort of man he was than she’d imagined. And he’d given their situation much more deliberation than she’d given him credit for.
“Yes, of course, I understand.” She knew full well what sort of political ramifications might result in opponents having reason to believe their marriage wasn’t binding. It could jeopardize the whole alliance. So, for her foreseeable future, she would share this room with him, the man who at this time was her husband in name only. But she would not complain. The situation could be far, far worse, like it had been for her mother. The agreement might be awkward, but at least he treated her with respect and far more honor than she’d expected considering the Nords’ reputations.
“You can change for bed if you want,” Aevar said, his voice lighter, almost teasing. “I won’t look.”
Heat spread into her cheeks again. Yes, this was an awkward arrangement indeed, but she had to get used to it. At least now she knew he posed no danger.
She retrieved a linen shift from her pack by the bed, hardly fresh after the journey, but better than the one clinging to her now. Casting a glance at Aevar’s broad back, she turned her own and changed swiftly. True to his word, he did not so much as peek herway. Not quite comfortable with him seeing her in only a shift, she crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
When Aevar finished, he glanced at her. Though she did not fear he’d change his mind, having him see her in his bed made her squirm. But he said nothing and doused the lamps, plunging the room into darkness. Eadlyn lay and listened as he rustled around in the corner before settling.
And there, in the hush of the strange room, with her heart finally slowing, she lifted a prayer of gratitude, of hope, and a plea for the strength to meet whatever tomorrow brought.
Chapter Eight
Thedistantcrowofa rooster woke Aevar. Dim light seeped through the oiled cloth covering the window across the room. He lay still, listening. In the hush, he picked out the sound of Eadlyn’s deep, even breathing.
He pushed aside his blankets, the chilly air prickling his bare chest and chasing away the last remnants of sleep. Though he couldn’t see much in the dimness, he didn’t want to disturb her with a lamp. Groping for yesterday’s tunic and jerkin, he slipped them on and tugged on his boots.
When he stood, he let his gaze drift to the bed. In the faint light, he made out the gentle rise and fall of the blankets draping Eadlyn’s body. His throat squeezed, a deep ache tightening in his ribs. He could far too easily imagine a different woman lying there, and for one torturous moment, he let himself do just that.
Giving his head a sharp shake, he blinked away the sting in his eyes. He couldn’t dig up the past. Not now. That life and the longing that came with it had to stay buried where he had fought so long to put it. He wouldn’t survivethis otherwise.
With a deep breath, he slipped from the room. The low murmur of his brothers’ voices by the hearth helped dispel the lingering ache. He crossed the hall and dropped into a seat across from them. They nodded in greeting.
“How was your night?”
Aevar narrowed his eyes at Braan’s question. His brother just stared at him, and Erik, for his part, did a terrible job of hiding his curiosity.
