by Kristen Reed
Upon their arrival, the guards escorted Ingrid, Edmund, and Liesel to their rooms in the palace’s east wing. A grin graced Ingrid’s lips upon witnessing Liesel’s incredulous joy over her gorgeous, forest green and gold room. Alas, her delight waned when the freedwoman mentioned in passing that she never slept on anything nicer than a straw-filled mat in her master’s home.
Ingrid’s accommodations were also more luxurious than her room in her father’s castle, but she couldn’t fully appreciate the extravagance. After all, she only had unrestricted access to it because Viggo removed the palace’s former master from his throne.
And he’d possibly removed Ansgar’s head from his body as well.
Rather than clinging to her father and friend, Ingrid took advantage of her solitude and lowered herself to her knees. She inhaled and exhaled slowly several times to calm herself and clear her mind before uttering her quiet entreaty.
“Heavenly Father, I kneel in a palace of unparalleled splendor in the wake of my betrothed’s victory, yet I can’t find any peace in my heart. Knowing my countrymen lost their lives so I could be here disquiets my soul, and the thought of marrying the man whose vengeance inspired the violence in question terrifies me. I’ve had moments of tranquility and seen glimpses of the good that the war and our marriage could bring, but being this much closer to my wedding day and living in the shadow of Ansgar’s defeat have all but obliterated the little serenity I found. Please don’t let my fear steal my ability to honor you during this time. Help me to be bold when you call me to, quiet when my words would be fruitless, and confident in you no matter what each day brings. Amen.”
Rising from the floor, Ingrid freshened herself up and ventured out of her room to find Edmund. When the young beauty opened the door, she saw Johan standing in the hallway poised to knock. Ingrid jumped at the sight of her stern protector but quickly regained her composure.
“I’m sorry for frightening you, my lady. His Majesty would like to see you.”
“And my father as well?”
“He finished meeting with the king a few minutes ago.”
“All right. I’ll follow you.”
Ingrid trailed behind Johan and marveled at the palace’s bizarre stillness. Whenever she visited the former king with her father, laughter, music, and other merry noises always filled the beautiful home, but now only their footsteps echoed in the corridor. Ansgar’s visiting ambassadors and courtiers either fled before Viggo’s army reached the regal residence or they were expelled from their luxurious lodgings. Ingrid prayed they were unharmed wherever they were.
Johan led Ingrid to the library, where she’d spent many hours listening to stories and poetry read aloud by various courtiers and even King Ansgar himself. Upon seeing the brusque king with his wild mane, thick beard, and uniform sitting where her perpetually polished sovereign had once lounged, the maiden froze in shock. Fortunately, she recovered and curtsied in greeting before he noticed her astonishment.
“How was your trip to the palace?” he asked.
“Peaceful. I was happy to see so much of the country untouched by the war.”
“Well, you have Ansgar’s poor judgment and your sage advice to thank for that.”
“What do you mean?”
The king rose from his chair and walked over to Ingrid with an unreadable look in his icy eyes.
“Last night, you told me not take a single life out of anger or vengeance and to show mercy to anyone who surrendered,” he reminded her. “Before the battle began, I offered clemency to anyone who defected and vowed not to imprison anyone who laid down his arms and came forward. Much to my surprise, all but twenty-three of Ansgar’s men surrendered. The rest have been given leave to return to their families.”
“What about the men who remained loyal to Ansgar?”
“They tried to fight against us and took down a few of my men and their own brothers in arms, but they lost their lives in the process.”
“I’m happy you spared so many lives,” she said, hoping Viggo wouldn’t be offended by her next inquiry. “Where are Ansgar and his family?”
“The children have been confined to their rooms with armed guards for their protection. King Ansgar and his wife are in the tower awaiting his trial.”
Ingrid threw her arms around the king in excitement before she could stop herself. When Viggo stiffened at his fiancée’s unexpected embrace, she pulled away and cast her dancing eyes downward. Ingrid’s cheeks burned with embarrassment even as her heart sang with joy. Viggo was sparing Ansgar’s life and pursuing justice instead of vengeance. Perhaps the beastly man’s heart of stone was softer than she originally assumed.
“I’m sorry for throwing myself at you, Your Majesty. I-I was so happy … I forgot myself for a moment. Will you please forgive me?”
Seconds stretched on without Viggo responding, so the maiden looked up. The king’s face was flushed as well, and he stared at her with anguish in his blue eyes.
And unshed tears.
The king turned his back on Ingrid and walked over to the desk again, hastily calming himself as the lady averted her gaze. While she waited for Viggo to address her again, she wondered how long it had been since anyone showed the king affection. Ingrid had observed in her short life how men tended to be less affectionate with one another than women were, and his brother didn’t exude anything resembling warmth. Viggo’s similarly rough façade also surely put off most people and forced them to regard him with fear and respect instead of tenderness and love. He’d also lost his father and mother, and Ingrid knew better than most the heartbreak associated with losing your mother’s loving embraces and sweet kisses.
“I take it you approve of my decision,” he said after the longest half-minute of silence in Ingrid’s life.
“Yes. I’m sure their wives and families will be ecstatic as well.”
“Hopefully they won’t fly at me as you did. I don’t think I’d survive the blow.”
Hearing the amusement in Viggo’s voice, Ingrid chanced a glance at the king again. Though a hint of a smile graced this face, she could still detect sorrow in his eyes.
“Is there anyone in Ansgar’s court who you would trust to help plan our wedding? The ceremony should take place before Christmas if possible and before the New Year at the latest. Considering the brevity of our betrothal, we won’t need the pomp most royal weddings require.”
“Yes, my friend Lady Marlene would be perfect.”
“I’ll send for her tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you,” Ingrid smiled. “Do you want to incorporate any traditions from your homeland into the ceremony?”
“I don’t care about the ceremony’s specifics, but I think my men would be disappointed if we didn’t serve an overflødighedshorn.”
“A what?”
“A cornucopia. It’s an edible sculpture of sorts made of pastries, and we usually have it at weddings. Do you think the cook here can make it?”
“Considering the elaborate desserts served at court, I’m sure she can manage it.”
Viggo nodded, stroking his grizzly beard.
“Perfect. Now, I also summoned you to give you something.”
“Oh?”
Viggo reached into his pocket and pulled out a polished gold ring with a modestly-sized ruby flanked by two smaller diamonds. Though it wasn’t as grandiose as a future queen’s ring should have been, Ingrid’s heart still warmed, and her hazel eyes misted over.
After all, it was her mother’s ring.
“I met with your father today, and he entrusted this to me,” he explained. “I know we haven’t been acquainted for long, but I promise to prove worthy of your commitment just as your father proved worthy of your mother’s.”
Ingrid wiped the wetness from her cheeks and smiled, but she couldn’t muster up the strength to speak yet. Instead, she extended her hand and Viggo slipped the memento on her ring finger, his eyes never leaving her face. Anxiety gnawed at him as he wondered how best to address Ing
rid, but his apprehension couldn’t overshadow the tenderness in his heart as he gazed at his uncommonly breathtaking yet flustered fiancée.
Recalling her earlier faux pas and reminding herself to show restraint, the future queen looked up at Viggo and simply grinned at him with genuine, undisguised elation.
“Thank you,” she managed to say.
Viggo cleared his throat and walked to the desk.
“You’re welcome. We also need an actual location for the wedding. Do you have one in mind?”
“What’s wrong with the cathedral?”
The king’s once tender gaze hardened into a baleful stare and he took a deep swig of his wine before grumbling in response.
“That’s where Ansgar had his men dump my parents’ bodies. Their graves still haven’t been found.”
“I’ll find another location. Is there anywhere or anything else I should avoid that would cause painful memories?”
“No. Even the palace’s chapel would be acceptable if you aren’t able to find something to your liking.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to find somewhere that will inspire more happy memories than sad ones.”
“Brother,” Halvard called, strutting into the room unannounced. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, I am,” the king said, turning his eyes back to Ingrid. “I will join you for supper this evening.”
Ingrid dropped into a curtsy as Viggo and his brother vacated the room. Once their footsteps faded into near silence, the emotional young lady flitted to her father’s room. She found Edmund reading his well-worn yet beloved Bible by the evening sunlight. Not wanting to interrupt his time of reflection, Ingrid crept away, but Edmund caught a glimpse of her as she disappeared from the doorway.
“Ingrid?”
She stepped into view again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Don’t be silly! You could never disturb me,” he disputed with a smile as he rose from his chair and beckoned for her to enter. “Besides, I was expecting you. Have you seen Viggo yet?”
Ingrid closed the distance between them with a hug and Edmund chuckled as he smoothed his daughter’s flaxen hair.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She pulling away enough to meet her father’s smiling eyes.
“Thank you so much, Papa. When did you find the time to get Mama’s ring?”
“I packed it with my belongings before we left for Viggo’s camp and gave it to him today. With his victory secure and your marriage imminent, I wanted you to have a piece of your mother with you. I hope it gives you strength and courage as you move closer to your wedding day. Do you remember what’s inscribed on the inside?”
“Proverbs 31:10.”
“‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies,’” the count quoted. “You, my dear, are more valuable than any jewel, and I hope Viggo realizes that.”
“Well, we already know that he thinks I’m more valuable than the tribute you agreed to pay him,” she said, the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile.
“And as he sees more of your kind spirit, he’ll realize his hasty decision was the wisest investment he’s ever made.”
Ingrid took off the ring for a moment and studied it affectionately.
“Did you show him the inscription?”
Edmund grinned as well.
“Yes, he actually recited the verse the moment he saw the engraving. I think he had a faith at some point, but the hardships he’s endured all but snuffed out the fire in him.”
“I think there’s still a flame there. I’ve seen it flicker once or twice, but maybe it will burn more brightly now that we’re at peace.”
“Let’s hope so.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Supper after nightfall was unexpectedly lighthearted, and Halvard’s absence likely accounted for some of the levity. Viggo displayed more playfulness than Ingrid and her father had ever seen. He even told jokes and stories about his homeland, which had Ingrid, Edmund, and Liesel in hysterics! Of course, Edmund chimed in with an anecdote or two detailing his daughter’s childhood and encouraged her to elaborate on his accounts of the amusing events. Of all their stories, Viggo found the tale of Ingrid’s obsession with roses the most captivating.
One day during a walk through the garden, little Ingrid discovered and fell in love at first sight with Lady Carina’s scarlet roses. Each day, she would snip a new bloom from her mother’s prized rosebush to add to her growing collection. The disappearing flowers puzzled the groundskeepers and the lady of the house herself.
Following a month of confusion, Carina accidentally uncovered the rebellious rose thief’s little scheme. When the lady came to play with her daughter one afternoon, she discovered a pile of rose petals under Ingrid’s bed! Though she was upset and perplexed by her vanishing roses, the countess gently chided her daughter with a small smile on her lips and said no more of it.
After Ingrid succeeded in leaving her beloved blooms in peace for three months, Carina took her daughter on a walk through the garden. There, she revealed that the groundskeeper had planted a brand new rosebush just for Ingrid! The gracious countess taught her enamored daughter the art of caring for the plant daily. The day the first rose bloomed, Ingrid was far too invested in her work to snip the fragrant flowers and doom them to die unseen in her room. Rather, she spent many an hour pruning the plant and reading in the shadow of her mother’s gift long after the countess passed away.
Just as Edmund and Ingrid ended the story, the clock gonged to welcome the nine o’clock hour, and a servant entered to deliver a message for the king. Viggo tore his eyes away from his fascinating fiancée and read the note. As he skimmed the unexpected epistle, some of the light left his previously joyful eyes, but he returned his attention to his guests without delay. Instead of sharing the message’s contents, Viggo playfully asked what other mischievous tendencies his future bride and her newfound friend possessed.
The conversation concluded when the king noticed their mirthful laughter at his own story turning into uncontrollable yawning. Realizing midnight was less than an hour away, Viggo decided to bring their jovial evening to a close and wrapped up the tale of his childhood fantasy that invisible servants worked in their palace. The king walked the three to their rooms, remaining silent lest he weary them further with conversation but also unsure of what to say to the woman who he was growing more fond of with every syllable that eased from her lips.
“Do you have anything pleasant planned for tomorrow, Your Majesty?” Ingrid asked.
“No, why do you ask?”
“I know you have a lot of duties to honor, but men with great responsibilities need great rest. Since the war is over, you’ve certainly earned a day of peace.”
“Well, tomorrow will be anything but restful, but dinner this evening was incredibly refreshing,” he answered as they reached her door. “Good night, Ingrid.”
“Good night.”
With a bow and a curtsy, the two parted for the evening.
Though he’d given Ingrid zero cause for concern and continued down the hallway beside her father without any anger or abruptness, the young lady still suspected that something was amiss with the softened king. Unsure of what could be the source of her disquiet, she entered her room. Once inside, Ingrid uttered a brief prayer for him before retiring for her first evening in the Schlagefilde royal palace.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Ingrid awakened and joined her father for breakfast, where she learned of Viggo’s plan to spend his day surveying the palace, Bjartyra, and other neighboring cities. Uneasiness still gnawed at her spirit, so she prayed for the unavailable king as she passed her time reacquainting herself with the palace and looking for any other occupants. Ultimately, she ventured into the library to study Ansgar’s impressive collection of books.
After finding a copy of Giovanni Santini’s book Teorica degli Stromenti Ottici, she strolled into the garden to read about
telescopes, microscopes, and other fascinating tools. Thanks to the cold weather, Ingrid found a place to read undisturbed without any trouble.
The young lady lowered herself onto a bench near the fountain of cherubs she adored. Once she was comfortable, Ingrid began the challenge of reading the Italian book, enjoying the chance to practice a language few spoke in Schlagefilde. An hour into her slow progress through the book, the familiar sound of a horse-drawn carriage approaching the palace tickled Ingrid’s ears.
Recognizing her fiancé’s brusque voice, Ingrid rose from her seat and scampered to the entrance of the garden closest to the palace’s front steps to greet him. Sadly, she missed Viggo by only a second as he marched into the palace with Halvard without noticing her presence. Despite the niggling urge to catch up with the two brothers, Ingrid resolved instead to continue her reading until the time came for tea with Liesel and Marlene, who would arrive within the hour.
Ingrid took her seat again and attempted to resume her labor of love through the Italian book. Alas, her racing heart refused to slow, and concentrating on reading the foreign language proved impossible. After five minutes of struggling to give the once fascinating book her full attention, she rose and entered the palace.
As she passed the library, Ingrid spied Halvard opening the door to let one of Viggo’s military officers exit the room. When the prince made eye contact with Ingrid, he gave the maiden a shudder inspiring smile. Halvard closed the door and cloistered himself away with his brother once more, squelching any hopes Ingrid had of approaching the king before her visitor arrived.
Profound disquiet rose in Ingrid’s heart, inspiring a brief prayer as she returned to her room. Despite her earnest efforts, the lady’s silent entreaty and the primping she did to prepare for Marlene’s visit did little to settle her soul. Once Ingrid decided that she looked presentable enough to accept company, she knelt before her bed to pray for her fiancé one final time.
“Heavenly Father, please protect Viggo from his brother’s influence. I know both men have been hurt by Ansgar’s grievous sins, but close Viggo’s ears and heart to Halvard’s wrathful whispers lest they inspire him to sin in his anger and do something he cannot take back. Help him to examine his ways and test them and cling to you instead of sinking deeper into his heart’s darkness. Amen.”