“How can I save myself and not them?”
Freyja nodded and smiled. “Believe, dear Nanna.”
“How will that work?”
“Faith need not be explained; it simply is—and remember, the gods always respond, just not always as the prayers ask.”
A moment of silence passed, and Odin stood. “My son, I can see that this is a decision based on your heart, and although I disagree with your choice, for with it, great hardship will come, I understand that I cannot sway your decision. You are just, and the partner you choose must be so, as well. For if you choose wrongly, Asgard will burn.”
Baldr nodded.
“Good. I will send a missive out announcing your choice of a wife to the nine realms.”
A broad smile lit up Baldr’s already handsome face, and he clasped my hand in his larger one.
“Tomorrow we wed.”
Nanna
Breidablik—The Hall of Baldr
Although the first hall, Odin’s hall, was beautiful, the home of Baldr surpassed it with the finest splendor. As I entered, my mouth gaped at the sight of orbs of light encased in large diamonds, which hung from great ornate chandeliers. The cathedral-high ceilings were painted with celestial scenes that moved and twinkled as if reflecting the earthly night sky. I was staring at the same sky I’d seen in Carthage.
“I hope it is to your liking. I have been preparing this place for you,” Baldr said.
Afraid to blink, I tried to take it all in—the tall gold and marble pillars carved with Norse knot work, heavy golden brocade curtains, masterfully crafted wooden and metal furniture. It seemed so surreal.
“You will want for nothing, my love.”
It was too much. A declaration that had no foundation. I could love a puppy without regret. Heck, even now I missed my mare, but to love another meant allowing myself to be hurt beyond what a simple sharp sword could do.
I shook my head.
Love made me hope. I was not sure I was ready for hope when I knew that my people were in peril.
And the feeling of being out of place seemed to twine around my ankles, and up around my knees until I stood motionless, afraid to move forward or backward.
“You must be tired after such a trip. Come. I will show you to your chambers.”
At that moment, I wished for something familiar instead of foreign.
“Tomorrow will be a hectic day, and a special guest will visit,” Baldr said.
I couldn’t recall anyone I might have known who’d be here in Asgard, but my mind was too tired to keep it all straight.
“You have a splendid home,” I said, finding my manners.
“No,” he said and took my hands in his, “we do.”
He seemed to like touching me, which I found odd.
“Don’t pull away. I know you will need time to adjust to this, to us, and all that it means to become a goddess, but you will.”
“Whoa,” I said and pulled away. “A what?”
“A goddess. You will be afforded the same powers as the other gods and goddesses of Asgard, which include the ability to hear the prayers and answer them.”
What a responsibility!
“Couldn’t we just do right by all?” I asked.
“There is much that we must still discuss, but for now, please rest. Tomorrow will be early enough to begin again.” He turned as if to go. “But one thing: should you leave the Hall, remember that you should not go beyond the wall of Asgard. Within it, you are safe, but outside, I cannot guarantee that.”
Inside my room, it was just too much to process. The ceilings were too high, instead of cozy. I could have fit the entire city of Carthage in this place, I feared. I’d lived a high-born life and was used to the nicest of things, but such opulence as this, I’d never seen.
This felt like exile.
Nothing was my own, not choices, thoughts nor words. To survive here, I’d have to do as they required: leave myself at the door. In my unkempt clothes, and with my distressed and disheveled appearance, I felt out of place in this room of glamor. I hungered for the outside, to see the stars twinkling. Even if my old life was under a different moon, I refused to give in to the strange feeling inside me, as emotions attempted to break through the wall I’d spent years building up.
Warriors didn’t cry. They didn’t allow the threat of change to pull them under.
What could I do to change my world? The faces of the men, women, and children, who were surely under siege now by the Roman forces in Carthage, assaulted me. It was worse than hand-to-hand combat. Shadowboxing my imagination brought me no further, and instead of relief, frustration built.
I was here, safe and sound, but likely they suffered. How could I enjoy this celestial palace and all that it brought, including the god who undeniably loved me, when they suffered?
I glanced at his retreating figure, and felt my stomach tighten. He was to be my husband? A part of me should have been excited about what that meant, but instead, unease filled my bones. The more I thought, the more confusion grew. I still knew little of him, and an admission of affection just wasn’t enough to spark love within. I needed to figure this out. Time was on my side, I hoped. Maybe something could grow.
Love was a garden that required tending. He’d planted a seed and expected a full-grown crop. Yet, I’d barely germinated. An inkling of what could exist between us was there, but it required watering, good soil to grow, and sunlight. Would he let me dance in the light or push me into the shadows once he possessed me?
I’d seen many arranged marriages over the years whereby the third companion in that relationship was gloom. The women had to submit to their husband’s will, leaving their own power at the door; their own dreams and wants considered worthless because they were women. But Baldr could be different. Uncertainty. It caressed my skin—a part of
