Tor nodded.
I slightly relaxed.
Tor kept going, “Over the months since our return from your world, I have also received many reports that Minerva is weakened, significantly. The power it takes to move beings between the different worlds as well as the armies of vickrants and toilroys she was forced to create when she was playing with us has reduced her to her weakest in centuries.”
I relaxed a bit more and whispered, “Good.”
“Further,” Frey continued, “my warriors have had years of peace but they are warriors. Even in peace, they train and keep sharp. And they know battle, they also know triumph. They, too, are formidable.”
I relaxed more and nodded.
Tor wasn’t done. “And Frey’s men are also highly trained in a variety of ways, including using daggers, bows and swords but also cunning and stealth.”
I sighed, relaxed even more and nodded yet again.
Tor still wasn’t done. “And Frey’s cousin, Apollo, is a revered strategist.”
“So we’re good,” I whispered and I felt him still so I instantly went back to not relaxed.
“I fear, sweets, we face war and in war, until victory is achieved, you never make the mistake of thinking you are…” he hesitated then finished, “good.”
Damn.
His head dipped so his forehead was touching mine and he murmured, “I do not wish to concern you but I do need to prepare you.”
I sucked in my lips and nodded again, my forehead rolling against his, his arm gave me a squeeze and he lifted his head an inch but held my eyes.
“It does not escape me, Cora, or the men in my study, that we are all married to women from your world, our feelings for our mates run unusually deep and the loss of any one of you would be devastating not only to us, your husbands, but also to each of our countries. For the gods of the countries of Korwahk and Lunwyn to speak to the witches of these places and warn them of what is happening in Hawkvale, instruct them to come to our aid…” he trailed off.
I held my breath.
Tor finished, “Frey, Lahn and I, as well as Apollo and Lavinia, feel this is not a coincidence.”
I let my breath out on the guess, “Minerva isn’t done with us.”
He confirmed my guess. “Minerva isn’t done with us. In fact, sweets, I would assume our victory over her and her carefully laid plans, the amount of power she had to use and still not win, is sticking in her throat. And Baldur is not done with Frey, Finnie, Circe and Lahn, all of whom he holds deep antipathy for for a variety of reasons. But there is more, this is larger than both Minerva and Baldur, we just do not know how large it is or what, if anything, it has to do with you, Circe and Finnie.”
Great. Just great.
“So, what now?” I asked.
He studied me a moment.
Then he said, “Now, you meet your compatriots, their husbands, their children and then you amuse the women, as only you can do, while the men prepare for war.”
Great. Just great.
Still, on the bright side, I was looking forward to meeting Circe and this new chick, Finnie. Spending time with folks from home would be awesome.
And anyway, I was a princess and, someday, I would be queen, I was also a warrior’s wife (and a part-time warrior princess not too long ago) so I had to suck it up.
Not every minute could be a fairytale even in a fantasyland, I’d learned that the hard way.
So, I sucked in breath, pulled slightly away from my husband, bent to kiss my (still! he was such a good baby) sleeping son’s forehead, squared my shoulders and through this, I held his gaze.
Then I said, “All right, baby, let’s go do this. I’ll amuse the girls so you boys can plan to kick some bad guy ass.”
Tor stared at me a moment before his eyes warmed with a light that could only be described as proud right before he started to chuckle.
Then he leaned in, brushed his lips against mine, turned and guided me to his study.
The double doors were opened and we walked right through, took two steps in then we stopped.
And, for my part, I stared.
And I did this because there were three men in that room that were hotter than hot. Tor, of course, beat them all in the hot department (mostly because he was my husband) but not by much.
Lahn was huge, dark, fierce and, I will repeat, huge. Frey was only slightly less huge and fierce, dark- haired, brown-green-eyed (or green-brown-eyed, I couldn’t say which, exactly, but I could say I could happily spend some time trying to figure it out, up close, if I already didn’t have my own hot guy who ruled a city-state and would eventually rule a nation) and g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s gorgeous. And Apollo was also slightly less huge but no less fierce looking than Lahn, green-eyed (definitely green, gorgeous green, unbelievable green) and h-a-n-d-s-o-m-e handsome.
And there were also three women and considering their men held two of them closely, protectively, the same as Tor was right then holding me, I knew which ones were Finnie (white-blonde hair, ice blue eyes, stunning, wearing breeches, boots and an old-fashioned shirt, her husband cradling a baby just like mine was doing with ours) and Circe (gold hair, gold eyes, beautiful, wearing a kickass sarong (a sarong!) sandals, a thin- knit, short-sleeved sweater type thing, really cool jewelry and she and her big husband were cradling babies, his swaddled baby had blonde hair, hers had black).
And after taking them all in, including Lavinia of Lunwyn who wasn’t claimed in a close cinch by a hot goy, it was Circe whose eyes I caught.
And when I did, I smiled and whispered, “Harold says hi.”
Then I watched her remarkable eyes get bright and her big, badass, hide-shirted, hide-pants wearing, sword bearing, knife belt sporting husband pulled her even more protectively closer as she smiled back.
Valentine
“You are here,” she heard the deep, appealing male voice say, her body turned and her eyes went from the beautiful vista of the glassy dark sea and its tall-masted ships to the beautiful vision of the tall, dark man who formed out of the shadows of the castle beyond him.
“I am here,” she agreed to the obvious.
He stopped on the balcony six feet from her.
“I have waited some time,” he informed her and the witch Valentine Rousseau knew by the tone of his voice he did not like waiting.
“I know you have,” she said softly.
“And I have heard no word,” he told her something else she knew and something else it was clear he did not like.
“Ulfr,” she whispered, not believing she was going to do this but she was going to do this so before she could stop herself from doing it, she said quickly, “I will return your payment.”
He stared at her, his green eyes gleaming even in the dark night illuminated only by the soft lanterns of the city.
Finally, he guessed, “She is dead in your world too.”
Valentine shook her head.
Ulfr’s brows rose. “Then you have not found her?”
“I have found her,” Valentine said carefully and she watched his big, heavenly body grow taut which made it even more heavenly.
“Then, what –?” he started.
“In my world,” she quickly interrupted him, “Ilsa is married.”
It must be said, as she watched his heavenly body grow more taut, Valentine found it a fascinating show.
