Page 72 of Alliance Bride
She crossed the hall with graceful ease. “A new dress. From Eadlyn. What do you think?”
A slow grin claimed Erik’s face. “I think if a stranger walked in right now, they’d mistake you for anEssian princess.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, voice dropping as he leaned close. “Will you wear it all day?”
“Would you like me to?”
“I would.”
“Then I will.”
He bent to kiss her, and Eadlyn smiled, pleased with the result.
“So, you and Ranvi like to scheme.”
She jumped, Aevar’s voice brushing her ear. He stood beside her, one brow lifted.
“I wouldn’t call it scheming. Just a little fun.”
“How many dresses like that do you have?”
“Why?” She tilted her head. “Would you like me to wear them?”
His eyes dipped to the pale green linen she wore before rising to meet hers again. “I like seeing you dressed like a Nord,” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. “But I’d also like to see you dressed like a princess sometimes. Like when we met.”
The way he stared at her, as if he wanted to close the space between them, left her breathless.
“I’m starving!” Trygg’s voice cracked through the moment like the collision of training swords.
Everyone moved toward the table. But before Aevar stepped away, he reached out and brushed his fingers over hers in a brief, meaningful touch that lingered like a promise. Eadlyn pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the flurry of nerves and hope blooming there. She had married him for duty. And yet…the idea of his kiss stirred something deeper than she’d ever expected.
Eadlyn lifted her head as Aevar left their room without a word, and her heart sank. Since the day she thought he might kiss her, she’d been waiting—hoping—for him to try again. But something had shifted yesterday out of nowhere. While he wasn’t cold or distant as he’d once been, he’d gone quiet and reserved. She’d noticed it last night when he’d hardly spoken before bed. And now, this morning. No lingering glances, no teasing comments. Just a silent exit.
She sat up, blinking against the rising tide of emotion. Disappointment twisted with confusion. And then something sharper flickered to life. Hurt. And anger. She couldn’t do this. She could not go one day thinking he might want a life with her, only to question it all the next. Her heart would never survive that. She would rather they remain only friends.
Tears slid down her cheeks. She scrubbed them away, furious with herself for being this vulnerable. She should have been more careful.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Lord,” she whispered. “He’s my husband, but…”
She let her voice trail off. Shaking her head, she got out of bed, forcing herself to move. She would not wallow.
Once dressed, she paused at the door to gather her strength and hide her emotions behind the mask she’d perfected over her life. When she stepped out into the hall, she expected to find Aevar with the others, but he was absent.
She approached Inga and Ranvi. “Where is Aevar?”
Inga’s expression softened. “He left as soon as he got up. Today marks three years since he lost Thora and the baby.”
Oh.
The realization sank in, followed by a sharp pang of guilt. Her anger withered. Compassion bloomed in its place, aching in her chest. Yet, beneath the sympathy, a thorn still pressed. Would she always be second to a memory? She had accepted that when she’d first learned of Thora, but now, after everything, she’d let herself hope for more, and that hope hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “For all of you.”
Breakfast passed in unusual quiet. They spoke of Thora in soft tones, recalling memories and small details. Eadlyn listened and allowed herself to learn more about the woman Aevar had once loved. She had no right to envy her. The woman was gone, but her memory was honored here. That was something Eadlyn had to respect.
Still, when the meal ended and Aevar had not come back, the ache inside her returned. After helping clear the table, she slipped back into their room and buckled the knife Heida had given her to her belt.
“I’m going for a walk,” she told Inga. Though she spoke calmly, her thoughts churned.
She hadn’t gone out alone since Sig’s threats, but today she needed space to think, and pray, and search for something she couldn’t name. Apprehension prickled along her skin at first, but she walked with confidence. The village and its people were familiar now. People she trusted and who cared about her wellbeing.
