So, I volunteered to replace Sir Erik to patrol the borders again. We usually travel in pairs, but a few of the warriors are down with sickness, and we can’t afford to miss a day just in case any of the fences are broken. It’s a lot of work, but that one day could be the day something goes wrong, and I’m not going to chance it.
Lord Grimkael and Wulf were not happy with me when I came back a few days after my retreat to see that I had my arm in a makeshift sling. They grilled me with questions. One was being a leader, and the other was being a friend. I told them I just needed space to get my head on straight, and Wulf’s expression couldn’t be described as anything less than hurt. He always talks to me, but warriors don’t talk about their feelings. We aren’t supposed to feel. If we did, we wouldn’t be the greatest fighters and swordsmen.
Regardless, Wulf felt as though I didn’t trust him. But I trust him with my life. Isn’t that good enough? Why must I tell my emotions? That proves nothing.
I rub my temples, trying to ease the ache starting to form as Snow drifts alongside the fences. There are miles of border to check on, and we are only done with half of it.
“Don’t move.” A cold tip of a silver blade touches my neck.
Fuck. This is exactly what I mean. My emotions are clouding my head. I’m all messed up, and someone is getting the upper hand on me. I should have heard them coming, they are even on horseback, but nothing ever happens out here, so I let myself get lost in thought. The woman from the other night is right. I’m a fool.
“You aren’t supposed to be on this side of the territory. This is considered trespassing.” I turn my head to see four Norwegian warriors sitting high on their steeds. Damn, the one time I patrol without someone, and this is what happens. Once Lord Grimkael hears of this, he will want reasons and may even make an announced trip to the Lord Aland.
“Yes, well we have a message for you from our Lord,” the one who has the sword to my neck smiles, showing his yellow teeth. He has a clouded eye too, pale like fog. I can use that to my advantage, but looking at the other men, I know I wouldn’t have the advantage for long.
“No need for violence, we can talk about this.” I’m going to get my arse handed to me, especially with my shoulder still healing. “Four against one. I’d call that an unfair advantage.” My statement causes them to laugh. Their new, silver armor shines bright against the sun. Mine is dull and bulky, but I have no doubt it protects me better than theirs. It only serves one purpose—to look pretty.
“I’m sure you can take it,” one with a wide jaw and long blonde hair says right before he jabs his blade at me. I dodge it effectively. I’m bent over Snow’s neck as she tries her best to get on the other side of the intruders. I reach for my sword and swing it from its constraints. The tip of my blade comes in contact with the blonde’s neck. His hand chokes at his throat to try and stop the bleeding, but it’s too late. That’s what happens when you talk shit to me.
The one with the clouded eye hits my side, and I fly off Snow, landing on my bad shoulder, my sword rattling away from my grip. Pins and needles stab my arm. The familiar burning pain is nearly debilitating. One of the guards slams his blade next to my head, nearly taking my ear. The breath leaves my lungs. Rolling to the other side, I reach for my sword on the ground and flip to my back, piercing the air just in time as the sharp metal slices right through the pathetic excuse they call armor.
Two down, two to go.
“We were ordered not to kill you. Lord Aland wanted your attention.”
I spit blood onto the ground from my busted lip and smile. “You had my attention when your friends were still alive.”
“They were nothing.” The half-blind warrior curls his lips in disgust. “They were useless warriors.”
Lord Grimkael would never say that about his warriors. Every warrior counts. Sure, some are better than others, but Lord Grimkael believes training makes someone perfect, and no matter what a man lacks, they are still always good for something.
I spit again and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. I can’t stand the metal taste of blood on my tongue. “What do you want?”
He hands me a scroll with black handles carved with the Aland family crest—a dragon and a shield. “This is for Sir Karsten. Deliver it to him. Everything you must know is on that. If the Lord’s wishes are not met, war will come to your kingdom.” His mouth curves into a wicked grin, silently telling me he hopes to fight again.
I keep my mouth shut. I don’t need to tell them that I am a Karsten. I have no idea where that will get me. Fighting is the last thing I need to do right now, but that doesn’t stop me from snorting. It earns me a kick in the ribs. White-hot pain blinds me, and I hear a snap. Aye, that’s broken. The bastards. I hope they come so I can kill them. They have no honor when it comes to fighting. Four to one, there is no dignity in that.
“Let’s grab the bodies. We are leaving.” He dictate to the other soldier. They grab the bodies and toss them over the horses.
They leave me on the ground, cradling my ribs. Snow lowers her head to my face and starts nibbling my cheeks. Her whiskers tickle, and even through my strained laughter I can barely keep my composure
“Okay, stop. Laughing makes my ribs hurt.” She pushes my face with her nose, urging me to get up. “Don’t rush me. I’ll get up. It hurts, alright?” Snow stops pressing me, but while she waits, she whines. “Damn fool horse.”
She bends her legs and lies down next to me, placing her head on my legs. This horse surprises me every damn day. We relax for a few minutes, and though my breathing slows, the pain is still very sharp. It shall be a painful journey back home. I may have to tie myself to Snow, so I don’t fall off.
“Oh, goddess! Are you okay? I saw what those men did to you,” a sweet, heavenly familiar voice hurries toward me.
My eyes lock on a red-headed beauty. I thought my breathing was hard before, but now it’s near impossible. I’ve never seen such perfection. Her skin is pale and flawless. I bet it’s softer than it looks. Every ounce of my self-restraint is being tested right now. All I want to do is reach out to her and touch her skin.
Her hands have a firm grip on either side of her dark green skirt. When she plops down next to me, Snow neighs with jealousy and the beautiful woman holds out her hand to my beast. Snow inches her way closer, sniffs, and turns her head, clearly disinterested.
I am not.
I am very interested.
“Well, that’s rude,” the woman comments to Snow. “I would think a lady would have better manners.”
Snow blows a raspberry in response.
Cold hands frame my face, relieving the sweat prickling my skin. She hovers her face over mine, and my pain seems to melt away as I lock eyes with her. Her lips are a pouty pink, and all I want to do is taste them. The color reminds me of the sky at dawn. I bet anything they are as close to heaven as I’ll get.
“Your horse has an attitude,” she grins, her emerald eyes sparkling with mirth.
Goddess, I can’t form words. My tongue is tied, staring at this woman. Her lashes are long, fanning over the tops of her rosy cheeks. Her nose is small and straight, and a few freckles are scattered along the bridge.
“You are beautiful,” I say as if I’m hypnotized. I suppose I am. I’ve never had the blessing of meeting a woman brighter than the sun.
Her cheeks deepen to a darker shade of red. “You must be in pain if you’re talking such nonsense. Where does it hurt? Perhaps I can help you on to your horse so you can make it home safely?”
I ignore what she says. I have one goal in mind. Finding out who she is, is my top priority. “Who are you?”
Her red hair falls over her shoulders as she shakes her head. She gives me a tight smile that makes the apples of her cheeks bigger, as if she can’t believe I actually care who she is. How can I not care? She’s the woman my soul has woken up for.
“Man-fool,” she whispers.
The word transports me back to a week ago when I was sta
ring at an outline of a woman who danced with the waves.
“It’s you,” I whisper, my heart growing fonder by the second.
Her brows wrinkle in the middle. “Right,” she drawls. “I think you may have hit your head when you fell.”
“No. I feel like I know you from somewhere, that’s all.” I’m not about to tell her I watched her dance in the sea. That would earn me a slap across the face. Although, coming from her, that may not be too bad.
“I assure you; I’ve never met you in my life. Come on; I’ll help you onto your horse.” She wraps her small arms around me. I grunt through the pain and place an arm over her neck.
She heaves, trying to pull me up, clearly struggling. “Goddess, you are heavy.”
“Sorry. I’m a big boy,” I say cheekily. “What’s your name?” I ask when I get to my feet. I try to not put my weight against her, but it’s hard when I’m leaning to the left to ease the ache in my ribs.
“Sylvie. And you?” Her hands move to my hips, and lust starts to churn in my groin. The last thing I want is the person helping me to get scared away from the growing erection in my pants. And I prefer not to scare her off.
“Sylvie. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“You have a wicked tongue, don’t you warrior?” She lifts a brow as she leans me against Snow.
“You have no idea,” my voice deepens as I lick my lips.
“Your name?” she says with annoyance. Her rejection causes my cock to deflate and my heart to pinch in a different kind of pain. It’s more of an ache. A deep, in my bones and blood kind of ache.
“Trident,” I manage through broken breaths as lift my leg over Snow’s back. “Oh, shite! That hurts.”
“Interesting name for an interesting man,” she muses, putting the scroll in my saddlebag before continuing to dig through them. She takes out a thick piece of rope, wrapping it around my waist and then tying me to the saddle horn. “It isn’t much, but it will do.”
My hand is still cupping my side, and long strands of my sweaty hair fall in my face. “What were you doing out here all alone, Sylvie?” I think back to what Jericho said about being watched. I suddenly wonder if she is the culprit.
Her cheeks turn that to that red shade I love so much, and she breaks my gaze, biting her bottom lip that is slightly bigger than her top. “I was going for a walk when I heard a commotion. I hate they did that to you. You were outnumbered.”
“I’m a great warrior, and I could have taken them if I wasn’t already injured.” I don’t want to tell her why, because I’m afraid she will realize she wasn’t alone at the ocean last week.
“I’m sure you can handle yourself,” she says, flicking her eyes to my lips.
If I’m not mistaken, I see a bit of desire in her eyes.
Breaking my heart, she turns to walk away, saying nothing, not even goodbye. “Wait!” I kick Snow’s sides to catch up to the fleeting temptation. “Will I ever see you again?”
“You know where to find me, Sir Trident.”
“But how will you find me?” I ask, wishing I could steal a kiss for the journey home.
“That’s for me to know. Goodbye Sir Trident. Safe travels.” Sylvie gives me one last look, and I can’t decipher what it means.
I’m not ready to watch her disappear into the thick of the woods, leaving me alone with nothing but the faint smell of her swirling around me.
She’s gone. Poof. Almost as if I dreamed her. I could have. Maybe I did hit my head.
But as Snow turns around to take us home, the scent of honey and flowers wraps around me, and I inhale it in hopes it sticks to my lungs. I’ve never smelt anything sweeter. I’ll be back for her. Her honey. Her flower. She doesn’t know it yet, but this woman will be mine. I do not care who I have to slay, how many mountains I have to climb, or deals I have to make.
My loneliness has a cure, and it is in the form of a red-headed beauty.
Chapter Eight
Sylvie
“Shut up!”
“No, I’m serious. I helped him. He was so heavy. Warrior heavy,” I tell Aya a little more breathless than I would have liked.
She claps her hands together. “Shut up!”
“And he was gorgeous. We have seen him before, watching the warriors patrol, but he is even more handsome up close.”
Aya squeals and dances on her feet. “Oh my goddess, tell me more! You must give me every detail.” She plops down in front of me and takes my hand, bouncing on her knees with excitement.
I push a piece of hair out of my face and bite my bottom lip. My cheeks are warm, remembering the moment I shared with Trident. “Aya, he was…so strong and big. He must have been the biggest man I’ve ever seen. He wasn’t like our warriors. He wasn’t rude and dirty. But our guards ambushed him! Four to one, and he killed two of them. It was impressive watching him fight. He had long brown hair and the deepest green eyes I have ever seen. His jawline was sturdy with a short beard. His cheeks sat high, and he had blood-red lips, like he licked them too much. His skin was sun-kissed with a perfect golden hue,” I sigh, closing my eyes as I remember the man that shook my heart.
It’s hard to believe it has been three days since I’ve seen Trident. I nearly wore down the wooden planks in my room with how much I paced. I needed to tell Aya about it, but my father and mother locked me in my room for three days as punishment for missing the party. It seems all the guests were upset with my absence, but I didn’t care. I’d rather be picked up by the enemy than be in a room full of men with soft hands that haven’t known a day’s work in their lives.
When my punishment was complete, the first thing I did was look for Aya. Now, we are at her house, in her room on her bed like little girls at a sleepover talking about their crushes. Only I’ve never had a crush. This is all new to me. It’s exciting and breathless. My heart is racing faster than it ever has.
A splinter of fear wiggles its way, in though, stopping me from completely falling off the edge and losing my sense for this man I hardly know.
“What’s wrong? It sounds so perfect.”
“I’m afraid I won’t see him again.” I picture his face beneath me as I look at him, and I’m crushed. The chances of me seeing him are slim to none. I could go back to the border, but after what happened, I doubt his Lord will let him chance going alone again.
Aya takes a hold of my shoulders and pins her eyes to me. “If you wish to see him again, we shall make it happen. In fact, it’s my new goal in life. You shall get paired up with a hot, sexy Viking warrior. And you shall always give me details because I have to live vicariously through you.”
“I can’t risk missing another party again. My parents would lock me away. My father is very disappointed in me right now.”
“He is always disappointed in you for something,” she says under her breath.
“Aya!”
“What? It’s true. He never listens to what you want. You want this warrior? We are going to make it happen. What if this Trident is the one, Sylvie? What if this is it? The man who sails across the ocean for you and such, you know, paint your horizon with hopes and dreams.”
I want to believe her. I have to believe there is more to life than this. There must be more than doing what you are expected to do. Why can’t I want for myself? My father makes it seems forbidden, as if it is unheard of and inappropriate for a woman to want such things for herself. It’s blasphemy.
Women aren’t allowed to want things for themselves or do something different from their station in life. We are expected to either be proper Ladies or maids, cooking, and cleaning for husbands. Don’t get me wrong; there is nothing wrong with raising children. I want children one day as well. Two boys and one girl, to be exact. A flash of Trident’s handsome face comes to view, and I imagine our kids with his eyes and my hair. Or maybe the little girl would have his brown hair, and the boys would have his strength.
I swallow hard, remembering where I am. I hold my hand to my cheek to see if I�
��m as hot as I feel.
“Oh, you’re blushing. What are you thinking about?” Aya pokes her finger at my arm.
“Nothing.” I clear my throat and hope my voice didn’t crack as bad as I thought it did.
“Liar.”
“Really, it’s nothing. It’s something I have no business thinking.” And that is what I must constantly tell myself. I hardly know the man. For all I know, he has sex with a different woman every night. He may have kids with multiple women. He could be abusive or a drunk. I don’t want to involve myself in that.
“I must go before my mother sends out a search party. I’m sure everyone in the village is sick of me always running off and causing a ruckus.”
Aya shrugs one shoulder while running the brush through her hair. “Who cares what they think, Sylvie? Live your life. Not theirs.”
“You make it sound so easy, especially when you are in the same boat.” I bend down and place a quick kiss on the side of her cheek. “We shall get out of here together. I swear it, Aya.”
“I’m counting on it.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
She doesn’t believe me. Aya has always been so selfless. Her plan for me has always been to get me out of the kingdom. The difference between our situations is that her parents are loving, kind, and listen to her, and mine will never listen to me. Yes, they want her to marry wealthy because they truly do not want to see her struggle like they have. But mine do not care if I’m happy. They only care about the family name, and a part me wishes I didn’t have it. I want someone else’s last name. The responsibility of being an Aland isn’t worth what it does to my soul.
I say goodbye to Aya and her parents and open the front door. The sun is hidden by gray clouds, and the temperature is cooler than usual at this time of year. I shiver, folding my arms beneath my breasts before strolling along the path toward the castle. I replay everything in my head in the last few days. The encounter with Trident, the fight with my parents, missing the party.
I’m lost. I have no idea where I belong, and it weighs me down with emptiness. I never thought emptiness could be so heavy, but as I drag my feet, my shoulders slump from the weight of it.
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