Whatever Rurik felt at Wilfrid’s passing, she did not know. He had come to Wilfrid’s chamber the morning of his death to express his sorrow to Cedric and Annis for their loss, but no other words had been spoken. He had not spoken to her since. She longed for him to take her in his arms and help ease the pain of Wilfrid’s loss, but she knew now that it was impossible. She had been given a chance at happiness and had lost it. The affection her husband had felt for her was well and truly gone. It was this certainty that gave her the strength after Wilfrid’s death to make the decision she knew would be best for them all.
Sandulf was leaving to go north in the morning. While Rurik had initially planned to go with him, Wilfrid’s death had changed everything. Although Wilfrid had been interred, a more formal ceremony was planned in a few weeks when the Jarl and other lords could attend to pay their respects. Rurik would officially be named Lord of Glannoventa at that time, so leaving was impossible.
It was late in the evening as she made her way to the hall where Rurik had closed himself up with his brother to make final preparations. She gave a brisk knock and let herself inside without waiting for their summons. The men stopped talking and looked up at her from their places at the table. A quick glance confirmed that they were alone.
‘A word, if you please.’ She made certain to keep her shoulders back and her chin up, but she had to clear her throat to control the tremor in her voice. Both men stood and Sandulf made as if to leave. ‘Please stay. I brought this for you.’
Walking to the table, she handed him a rolled vellum she had prepared. His brows drew together in confusion as he took it from her. ‘It is an accounting of the events in Maerr as I remember them, including Lugh’s involvement. I’ve signed my name and affixed our seal on the chance that it might prove useful to you.’
His eyes widened in surprise as his fingers closed around it. ‘Thank you,’ he mumbled, glancing down at the vellum. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were not filled with disgust. It was progress.
‘Please be careful when you approach him,’ she said. ‘He was a dangerous man when I knew him. If he is insincere in his repenting, then you cannot trust him.’
Sandulf gave her a nod of agreement, seemingly at a loss for words. The vellum wasn’t much, but it had been the only thing she could think to do to help him in his journey. It didn’t absolve her of her guilt, but she hoped it would help him.
Turning her attention to Rurik, his stony expression nearly made the wobble in her voice come back. ‘I have come to a decision and would like to discuss it with you.’
‘You have come to a decision? Isn’t it I who am weighing how to deal with you?’ asked Rurik.
The comment smarted, so she ignored it. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sandulf making his way around the table to leave them alone and this time she did not try to stop him. If she was to receive a chastisement, she would rather it happen in private. With nothing left to hold on to, her fingers fumbled with the hem of her sleeve.
‘If you have a punishment in mind, then I’d like to hear it, but I doubt that you do since you haven’t come forward with it yet.’
‘Perhaps I am biding my time.’ His voice was flat, as if she meant nothing to him, and her heart clenched with the knowledge. This is exactly why she had avoided him.
‘I have a solution in mind if you would hear me out,’ she said.
He paused a few heartbeats before inclining his head.
‘I think it best that one of us leave. Since you are now Lord, it obviously should be me. I do not want to put Glannoventa in jeopardy and any strife between us could do just that. Not only could it make us appear weaker to any enemies who may seek to prey on us, but I believe it will lead to confusion for everyone. I have already heard rumours that there is talk in the village about our discontent.’ Not to mention the fact that she could not survive being this near to him and having him hate her. Every day that passed was like another twist of the dagger in her heart.
‘Where will you go?’ His voice was nearly quiet.
‘I have an older sister near Wexborough where I was born. I can go there.’ She had seven brothers and sisters of all different ages. She had not seen most of them since coming to Wilfrid as a child, but she had no doubt that this was the best way forward. Anything was better than facing Rurik’s indifference. She would float from household to household if she had to.
He seemed to be weighing her words, before he spoke. ‘Cedric told me at some length how much you value your position here. You would leave that behind?’
Unable to withstand the blandness of his gaze, she feigned interest in the map laid open on the table. ‘I cannot pretend my reasons are unselfish... I do want what’s best for Glannoventa and, barring any sort of reconciliation, I believe this is it.’
‘And how is that selfish?’
Was it her imagining it or did his voice sound closer? Treacherous tears burned her eyes, so she did not dare look back at him to check. Swallowing several times against the lump in her
