“I don’t need to say aloud what I know you also are beginning to understand, wee one,” he answered and I pressed my lips together because he was not wrong and I was still not going there. His eyes held mine as his mouth murmured, “She waits for me at windows and buys me dragons. There are reasons we walk this earth, I’m coming to realize mine.”
“Frey,” I whispered and said no more. I couldn’t. I was too moved and I felt strangely like I was standing in quicksand, sinking fast.
The problem was, I had no will whatsoever to find a vine and pull myself out.
His head dipped further and he pressed his lips hard to mine.
Then he broke his sweet touch and moved back an inch to say, “My grandmother.”
My head tipped to the side. “Your grandmother?”
“If there is anything gentle and kind in me, my love, she put it there. My father’s mother had a light shining from her soul.” His lips tipped up and he continued, “Because of that, you remind me in some ways of her. But she lived in a den of vipers and knew how to take care of herself, moving cautiously ahead while keeping an eye to her back lest someone be preparing to bury a dagger in it. Even so, with those she cared about, she displayed great humor, generosity and thoughtfulness.”
I studied him and it hit me he’d said she’d died when he was thirteen.
Therefore I asked, “So, when she passed, is that why you left your family and never went back?”
His lips tipped up further to a grin. “Someone has been talking,” he guessed.
I grinned back and relaxed deeper into him, my hand sliding down to rest on his chest. “Four someones, to be precise, and they had one avid listener.”
He chuckled then confirmed, “Yes, wee one, when she died, living amongst them became too much to bear. So I left and never went back.”
“What was her name?” I asked.
“Eugenie,” he answered.
“I wish I’d known her,” I whispered.
“As do I,” Frey concurred.
I kept going. “I’m sorry your family sucks, baby.”
He chuckled again but concurred with that too. “I am as well, my wee Finnie.”
I stared up at a magnificent man who was magnificent against some pretty big odds.
And as I did, I knew I had two choices, struggle against the quicksand only to have it slurp me up to bury me straight to the throat or move the fuck on and have some fun, fun which would undoubtedly suck me deeper anyway but, again, I wasn’t all fired up to save myself from going down.
I picked door number two.
And to do it, I tilted my head to the side and smiled brightly at my husband before I asked, “Wanna dance?”
His eyes roamed my face before they locked on my mouth. Still looking there, he answered, “Absolutely.”
Then he bent and kissed my nose yet again before he let me go and led me to the dance floor.
He did this holding my hand.
I let him do it and I did it smiling.
* * * * *
Nearly every eye in the room watched The Drakkar lead his princess to the dance.
As they had been watching The Drakkar and his Winter Princess in their intimate, cozy huddle from the moment they entered the ballroom.
And as many had watched from horses, windows or fire drums as that afternoon, the Winter Princess burst forth from her Palace to meet her imposing husband with a bright smile and that imposing husband had smiled back then gave his new wife a gentle touch, soft words and, finally, a light kiss.
And as The Drakkar whirled, twirled and lifted his new bride through the next four dances, all the while he smiled warmly at her or laughed out loud at something she said or at an unusual inexpert stumble in her step (which always made her laugh out loud too, through the smiles she was returning to her husband, of course), they kept watching.
* * * * *
“Please, my princess, the next dance,” the young man begged but I smiled and shook my head, trying to recall the name he gave me but unable to do so since so many were swimming in my head.
I’d been dancing flat out for what felt like hours and I loved doing it. It was a freaking blast. But the dances in Lunwyn were mostly energetic (there were a few slow ones and all of those I’d danced with Frey) and they were complicated with a lot of lifts that included the man lifting you straight up into the air or whirling you at his side while you held your legs out like a ballerina leaping across the stage, not to mention the footwork, twirls, bobs and dips.
It was a blast but it was exhausting and I needed a drink.
When I processed his dejected look, I relented, slightly. “Just a wee rest, the next song after this, we’ll dance, I promise.”
He grinned and bowed smartly before he straightened and stated, “I’ll be there to take your hand the moment the orchestra delivers its first note.”
“Wonderful,” I murmured on a small smile and he moved away.
I did too and I did it while scanning the room. I marked Frey across the vast expanse, standing with a formally attired (and hot looking) Thad and Max. His eyes were on me and I smiled, watched his mouth get soft then he turned his attention back to his men. I kept scanning and saw Aurora dancing with a very fat man who was having trouble lifting her but she didn’t give the slightest indication she feared he was going to drop her to the ground. I kept up my scan and saw Atticus laughing with two men, one in a royal blue shirt, one in a moss green one, a woman wearing the same green at his side. I’d danced twice with my father of this world and I could say two things, one, he was a great dancer and two, I’d never forget either.
I also noted, as I had since we left Houllebec, that Frey’s men were very visible and very close. Orion, Gunner and Lund were all not five feet away from me in different huddles of people and Annar and Stephan were not much further.
I found a pocket of space in a corner and dragged my carcass to it while I stopped scanning for the familiar people who made me feel rooted and safe and started scanning for a maid who could get me some much needed champagne.
Therefore, I had my head turned away when I heard a feminine purr from beside me.
“She wears the blood.” My head jerked around to see an extortionately beautiful, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman standing beside me who was taller than me by at least three inches and she was wearing a blood red gown that made my cleavage look demure (and mine was nowhere near demure but, honest to God, I saw the edges of the aureoles of her nipples peeping through hers). “This pleases me,” she finished and my eyes snapped from her shocking decolletage to her face.
Oh shit.
She was clearly of the House of Drakkar and I saw my mistake immediately. I should have gone to Frey or Father. Princess Sjofn probably knew her and she was a Drakkar. This meant I had to tread carefully because the usual field of landmines around me just tripled.
I checked myself from sending a panicked look to Frey or Father which would expose too much and swiftly pulled myself together.
“Hello,” I thought it safe to say.
She turned to me and leaned her long elegant neck in to touch her cheek to mine before moving back.
“We’ve not met,” she purred and I felt relief flood through me at this news, “I’m Frey’s cousin, Franka.”
“Lovely to meet you, Franka,” I said softly, she smiled lazily and I felt the relief disappear as I took in her smile which was not only lazy but weirdly sexual.
Oh shit.
“Lovely to meet you too, my Winter Princess.” She kept purring then her eyes dropped to my cleavage and her look at mine was way different than the way I looked at hers.
Oh shit.
