A/N: I'm working very hard to get back on a weekly posting schedule, so please bear with me while I work towards that. :) I want to share with you all that I had a really difficult time writing this chapter and I'm very eager to know what you think.
As always, if you find any Twilight characters in here, they belong to SM, but the plot is all mine and I'm hoping it's keeping you on your toes. :)
I walked away from the maze, through the archway, down the hall, and into my chamber before I allowed my nerves to best me. My hands shook uncontrollably as I breathed through the anxiety. Inhale and exhale. You are in control. As I regulated my breathing, my posture straightened to stand tall. With steady steps, I continued inside the chamber towards the sitting area.
My Valkyrie sisters had departed already from the chambers, to feed the people due to the lateness of my wakening or other pressing errands, I knew not which. The silence hung in the air thickly as I pondered the events of court and my confrontation with Jarpr. Why did his disapproval sting? Why did it matter what my servant thought of my actions or decisions? My brow furrowed as I considered his probable disloyalty towards the kingdom – or rather continued loyalty to the kingdom of Tyr. The raging emotions I felt towards Jarpr, his actions, and his disloyalty churned within me.
You also agreed to dine with Yåkov this eve, my thoughts reminded me. I shuddered at the prospect of being alone with him again, of sitting within arms' reach without the protection of an audience to stay his impulses. One way or another I would find an excuse to leave the dinner early and therefor be unavailable for any other activities he may have in mind. Another shudder passed through me as I thought of the possibilities he may in mind to follow our meal.
So lost in these thoughts that once again I failed to notice his arrival to my chambers or the time that had lapsed. Upon sensing a presence in the room, I raised my eyes from the walls before me to my side where an unmoving Jarpr awaited my acknowledgement.
Was I still angry at his outburst, with his roughness towards me? I was unsure, yet I inclined my head towards him in acknowledgement. He bowed at the waist in reply; however his eyes never left my face. I observed they were a honey color again; his face blank – no shadows of anger marred his beautiful complexion.
"Highness, I must beg your forgiveness for my impulsive behavior," the velvet of his voice caressed each word, each syllable as he spoke. "It was inappropriate for me to reveal my anger, even more so to take that anger out upon you, my Queen."
"Am I your Queen, Jarpr?" the reply fell from my lips before I could silence it, my acknowledgement of his loyalty to another kingdom now hung between us.
"Of course," he acknowledged. "As I said before, I serve whom I serve. With that in mind, I believe it would be foolish to dine with the King this eve." My head turned sharply away from him as I considered his words. Setting aside the vague answer of his loyalties, I wondered what wisdom his advice held. Was it foolishness to dine, potentially alone, with my husband? Would I face another night in his bed? A chill passed through and my limbs shook with the images of that other night. No, I would not allow the events to lead to his chambers; I would dine with him and excuse myself early within the evening.
Jarpr was closer now, kneeled at my side, his face bathed in concern. "Highness, are you alright?"
I shook my head from side to side – both in reply to his question and to the suspected desires of my husband. I was not alright, I too, worried for my safety with Jåkov, worried that my defenses were not enough, worried about the duty that demanded my obedience. Equally unnerving, my concern for a disloyal servant should he be discovered and my quick ability to forgive his earlier inexcusable actions.
"I need to go, the sun is already setting and dinner will be served soon." The sun sat low on the horizon, the sky a beautiful shade of orange. The clouds stretched across the broad sky, the profile of the mountains illuminated in the fading sky. Stiffly, I rose from the chair, my muscles protested from being seated for so long, and I walked past Jarpr. "I will return to my chamber after dinner. You are dismissed Jarpr." I continued my stride through the sitting room and through the chamber door.
Leif was positioned at the end of the hall, and I walked steadily towards him. Upon noticing my approach, he bowed at the waist, head and eyes downcast as he greeted me, "Good evening Your Majesty."
"Good evening Leif. Would you walk with me to the dining hall?" I wanted company to keep my mind from thinking on the dinner at hand with my husband, and to deter Jarpr from following me in an attempt to sway me from the meeting.
"Of course Your Majesty." He turned on his heel and matched me stride for stride, although with his height I am certain he shortened his own strides to equal mine. "Would you like to hear the information I have gathered?"
I nodded – yes; this would surely serve as a good distraction and arm me with information that I would, hopefully, discuss with Jåkov.
"The flow of guards has lessened, although some still come to palace for a place in the guard. Initially, I was concerned there would be no more room as the long houses had reached their capacity, yet some men have abandoned their posts. One can only assume they have returned home. Of those who do continue to arrive, their stories are similar to my own, their families or kin were unable to pay the taxes and had to send someone to repay the debt. Even so, many have lost their homes and lands and have sought refuge with other families." He paused, and I turned my face to observe his profile. Brow furrowed he seemed to consider his next words carefully.
"Leif, what is it that you are not telling me? Something clearly troubles you." I needed him to know he could share anything with me without recourse from myself, the information he provided was vitally important if I hoped to change the tide.
"There are whispers, rumors, Your Highness, that some have crossed the mountains into the land of Tyr. No word on if they are seeking refuge or of any returns. Please understand, these are only rumors, no one I know has crossed the border."
I considered this new information – would my people leave the kingdom? Had the state of affairs degraded enough to drive them from the homelands? Did Yåkov know this, or King Vanir? Leif's voice broke through my musings, "Highness, what do you plan to do?"
I sighed, "I'm not sure yet, Leif. At this point, it is unclear the most efficient approach to achieve the best results for the most people. I want you to know I appreciate the information you have brought me and that I am working towards a solution."
Leif nodded, "I trust you will do what is best for the people; I will continue to bring you more information as it reaches me. And Highness?"
We paused and faced one another, "Yes?"
"Thank you for listening."
"Of course," I replied. It did not escape me that we had now reached the dining hall and my nerves spiked inside. "Leif, would you mind waiting for me?"
If he was confused by my request, he hid it well. With a quick nod of his head, he bowed again and turned to wait by the archway of the hall. Inhaling deeply, I walked forward and composed my face of a blank mask.
The hall itself was one that was used for banquets and ceremonies with a long table in the center, towards the front of the room were a few stone steps leading to a smaller long table where royalty or visiting ambassadors would sit. Upon each wall hung thick fabric stitched with the emblem of the Dagez, these fabrics arched and hung around swords and shields also engraved with the kingdom's emblem. Chairs lined the walls with small, round tables seated between them; during ceremonies these tables would hold barrels of mead, bread, and other assorted foods. The corners were always left bare, to give room for people to move about or for bards to play their instruments and sing. Many a happy memory was made here with my father and the servants who were my friends. I smiled as I recalled Nada's first drink of mead; she had coughed and sputtered as the liquid had burned her throat. We had laughed together as she wiped the liquid from her dress and face; then she poured herself another glass and managed to drink it without trouble.
I had reached the stone steps, and lifted my eyes to see my husband seated at the head of the table. To his left, an empty chair and a wine glass had already been filled. Swallowing thickly, I ascended the stairs and moved quietly to the chair.
"My wife," he greeted me and inclined his head towards me as I sat.
"Husband," I acknowledged. He waived towards a servant, who brought a tray of food for each of us. Upon my plate were roasted boar, with cheese, and some tomatoes. Though I was hungry, my stomach rolled at the food – anxious to complete this meal and be out of sight and grasp of Yåkov.
My fingers wrapped around a fork and speared a piece the meat, the mundane actions of feeding myself a distraction of his nearness. From the corner of my eye, I observed that he paused – as if he had wanted to say something before he lifted his bit of cheese to his own mouth. I continued to chew my own meat, and hoped that if I ate my meal quickly, perhaps I could depart early and remain unscathed.
"What did you think of court today?" his question, while expected, still startled me and I choked on my meat. My throat burned from the coughing and I reached for my wine glass to soothe my throat before I answered.
"Which part of court? Do you inquire my thoughts about any of the proceedings?" I knew to be careful, artful in my answers; I could not give away my thoughts or feelings on how matters were handled. Also, I could not allow my answers to betray how significant the landowner's death had been for me, if I replied to only that one event, the weight of the matter would be clear for Yåkov.
He considered my question while he chewed his food, then after a swig of wine replied, "Most specifically, the landowner and his death. How do you feel about that incident?" his tone was even and gave no hint to his own feelings.
"I feel that you acted fairly, and that it was unfortunate that the man made a rash decision that cost him his life." My eyes were lowered as I shared this lie with him, hopeful that he would not be able to discern the truth.
I felt, rather than observed, him nod in his own reply, and then with a heavy sigh continued, "I agree, however it really bothers me that his life was forfeited. I thought," he paused and considered his words, "I thought that it would not bother me. And for a moment, I felt this surge of adrenaline when he began to move towards us. Do you understand wife?"
Confusion washed through me as his words sank in. In the throne room, I had taken his reactions as excitement and even delight. It had never occurred to me that perhaps he had felt any remorse for the outcome. Carefully I inquired further, "Do you think anything could have been differently to alter the outcome?"
As he pondered his reply to me, I forced myself to really look at the man seated at my side. For months I had held him in contempt, had hated him for what had transpired between us that night. Yet, I had never stopped to consider the overwhelming changes he too was experiencing. I could not fathom how very different his life must be now that he was married and the king; how very different the expectations of him now versus only a few months prior. Had his own father prepared him for this new step in his life? Had the man taken the time to train his son to lead the people, to make the tough decisions surely he had already encountered?
The man was a stranger to me, someone I had avoided since the arrangement had been agreed upon. I had never taken the time to get to know him, to seek a man of compassion or a man afraid of the very heavy burden now placed upon his shoulders.
Was it possible I had criminalized this man without knowing him, without understanding him? Was it possible, I was completely wrong, and I could easily turn the ever-rising tide from hopeless to hopeful through compassion and understanding? As I lost myself in these thoughts, I chewed on my lip in consideration. Yåkov's rough voice disrupted my thoughts.
"I don't know. My father taught me that a king should have a firm hand, and had I backed down from the man, I would have shown weaknesses. I cannot have the people think that I'm weak, or easily manipulated. I must stand by the decisions of the Jarls and support them." His head bowed, as if under the weight of the incident itself, and shook from side to side.
Very tenderly I asked, "What if the Jarls are wrong? Do we need higher taxes?" I held my breath as I waited his reply.
His head jerked back up; his eyes conveyed the internal war fighting within him as my words seeped in. "The Jarls assure me that there is a need for the higher taxes." Eyes narrowed as he paused, "I believe them and trust them. I grew up with many of them, and know them possibly better than their own wives. They have no reason to mislead me."
Slowly I exhaled and considered my next words, "Well, perhaps we can compromise? What if we halted all taxes? What I mean to say is, that no more tax increases would be permitted for the time, and allow those behind on their taxes the window they need to gather the payments. Continue to collect monies from those who can afford and allow a determined period where no more taxes are collected from those who are unable to meet the demand. At the end of that time, those people must pay their debts and can begin again with a clean slate." Hastily, I lowered my eyes as drank deeply from my wine. Inside my head, I chanted over and over, please work, please please work. He paused in consideration.
I held my breath as I continued to drink deeply.
Please work.
"You make a valid point. I will consider it." He paused and inhaled deeply, "However, there is another matter we must discuss." My eyes rose to meet his and after a moment, he averted his gaze from mine. His hand reached for his own wine glass, and thick fingers wrapped around the goblet to raise it to his own lips. He drank deeply, swallowed thickly, and then after wiping his mouth with the arm of his sleeve, returned my gaze.
"Izabel, it has not escaped my attention that you have avoided me," My head jerked as he raised a hand, palm forward to silence me. "I understand that marriage can take some time to accustomed, however I feel you have had the time needed. I know that our union was agreed upon when you were younger, but I was already a man when my father informed me of our arranged marriage. While we did not spend time together prior, I must admit that I had certain expectations of what our marriage would hold." Again he paused and seemed to consider his words before he proceeded. "I suppose, I envisioned a union like my parents or yours – one built of mutual respect and one in which we worked together. Yet, you have yet to come to me, to talk with me about anything regarding our marriage or even the kingdom. I want you to talk to me, to spend time with me – I want a real relationship with you. And perhaps, I went about it the wrong way. But I'm ready now to correct that oversight, and to build something lasting with you. I want a wife."
His words shocked me, and I was unprepared for the intense gaze that met my own. The next words he spoke tumbled from his mouth rapidly, as if he were as nervous to say them, as I was to hear them. "Eat quickly, then we shall retire to my bedchamber."
The adrenaline shot through my system, chased by an overwhelming fear that stifled my mind. In my hands, the fork shook and clanged loudly against the plate, betraying the fear that now throbbed through me. To lay with him again was beyond what I was willing to do, beyond what I believed myself able to do.
Blood on the steps, pooled around the lifeless landowner, flashed through my mind. His lifeless body, the frozen pain etched on his face seared within my vision. How great his sacrifice had been – one he could not live through. The words of my husband – his conflicted emotions that surrounded the landowner's death, his wish for a relationship swirled around these images and echoed throughout my mind. Could I lay with him again?
Unexpectedly, Jarpr's face flashed in my mind.
No. There must be another way.
With a thick swallow, I attempted to compose my face and hide my emotions as I spoke, "My King, I bleed and would be unable to complete a union with you." I knew that men would not lay with women who bleed, and although it was a lie, I hoped that he would not ask for proof. Gods, please do not let him ask me.
His gaze narrowed before he spoke again, "It would appear, my Queen, as if you were reluctant to be intimate with me again." Thick fingers wrapped around his fork as he violently stabbed his own meat and roughly shoved it in his mouth. Teeth snapped together as he chewed, and his other hand reached for the wine glass between us. As his hand drew near me, I unwillingly flinched back towards my chair. Silently, I cursed my lack of discipline, cursed my body for its betrayal.
He swallowed, inhaled deeply, and spoke again, "However, there are other ways to be intimate, Your Highness. Should you wish to join me in my bed again, yet are encumbered by your current disposition, we could pursue these other methods of pleasure." Eyes sparkled wickedly as they sized me up and another chill passed through me all the way down my spine. More aware of my body's revulsion, I braced myself for the disgust and fear, and remained impassive – a blank slate.
"I am sorry, my King, but I am naïve in these matters and do not understand what it is to which you refer." My voice was level, even, and for the first time since the conversation began, did not betray me.
He chuckled, deep in his chest as his head lowered and shook it from side to side. "Ah, Izabel, I forget how untrained you are in the art of pleasure. To be blunt, there are other places for which I may enter you. Such as, your mouth."
Blood drained from my face as it slowly dawned on me what he wanted. His desire was to place his … in my ….. The nausea swelled inside me, threatened to overwhelm me as images from our wedding night bled into new images, new visions of what he wanted from me. My breathing quickened, became erratic, my heart thundered inside my chest, and for a moment I feared I would pass out. Black swirled behind my eyes, yet I fought to push it back, keep the fear at bay, and consider another excuse for why I could not do that.
"My King," I stuttered, "I have never, well I don't know how to," my mind failed to find the appropriate words to refuse him. "I have never done that."
His face softened as his eyes drank in my obvious fear and this time his arm extended until his hot palm covered my hand. "Yes, I know wife. However, it is my responsibility, and might I add, pleasure to teach you how to do just that."
My mind scrambled to find another reason, another excuse to refuse him. Anything would be acceptable for me to say, except the truth. The truth, he both disgusted and frightened me, he had been rough and demanding before, and I had no desire to lay with him or do anything with him ever again. The mere act of his hand touching my own made the few contents in my stomach roll uneasily.
What of the dead landowner? Is his sacrifice less than yours?
Yes, the landowner who had given his life for what he believed to be right. Could I, in good conscience deny my husband and make a mockery of the death of that man? If I did this with him, then I may begin to earn his trust, create an alliance, and turn the tide for my people. If I refused, the death of the landowner was for naught as Yåkov already expressed his suspicion of my original refusal. For my people I would have to do this.
His desire to rebuild, to create a relationship echoed again in my mind; his voice sounded so sincere. Perhaps, our first time would not be like this second time. Perhaps, he would be gentle and considerate, and I would have no reason to fear him.
I raised my eyes to his and nodded. A triumphant smile played upon his lips as he rose from his seat, "Come wife, let us retire." Although I felt cemented to my chair, I rose as well, and followed him.
Afterwards, I shuffled through the halls – past the dining hall, past the throne room, and past the many arches and windows that leaked in the moonlight. As I passed the dining hall, Leif straightened and moved to follow me. "Highness," I held my hand up as indication to pause.
"You may go Leif. I return to my chambers." Upon his face swam confusion, then concern, and finally realization.
"May I escort you, Highness?" he inquired, his voice slow and soft, as if to soothe my raw nerves. I shook my head from side to side. I felt dirty, and wanted to claw my own skin off, I feared that everyone could see the shame I desperately hide inside. He nodded his understanding, and with calculated movements, slowly withdrew from me.
Finally, the archway appeared in sight for my chambers and I felt myself relax again. With a sigh, I opened the door and slid inside. My eyes searched for my sisters, who I needed so terribly at this moment. Yet, none were here. I walked to their chamber; the fire was fed and roared within the pit. The room felt warm and inviting, yet every bed and chair was empty. My shoulders slumped as I realized I was alone, and while I desired to be alone with my confusion, I also wanted the comfort only they could provide.
Yåkov had surprised me. Images flashed through my mind of our time together, time that had completely contrasted our wedding night. While he had been rough and demanding that first time, this time he took his time and displayed great patience overcoming my nervousness. His hands had been gentle, as he had taught me how to pleasure him. My body had failed to respond to his touches, for which I was grateful. While my thoughts remained confused about this man, my heart and my body firmly rejected him.
With a sigh, I turned to exit their room and roughly collided with a solid chest. My heart hammered as the dull pain exploded in the bridge of my nose, and I took several steps away from the prescience. My fingers cradled my bruised nose while my vision, hazy from the slight pain, struggled to focus on the dark figure before me. I was unprepared, no weapons within easy reach and took more steps backwards until my shins met the legs of a table. A whimper escaped my lips from the secondary pain, but I fought through it. The chair, while heavy, could be used as a weapon and I felt my fingers automatically loosen their hold on my nose, as my elbows inched backwards in preparation to grab the solid object.
"Highness," the velvet voice spoke and I sighed with relief. It was only Jarpr. I should have known that only he could successfully catch me unaware. I detected a bit of roughness, or steel to his voice, as if he were muffling a rage lying beneath the surface. "I was sent for?" he inquired.
Brows furrowed I thought back over the events of today, past the most recent and earlier during my interactions with him. I could not recall requesting him to return. "No, I did not send for you." I replied, my hands now at my sides, the pain eased from both my nose and shins.
"I did not say you sent for me. Only that I was sent for. Do you require a bath or a massage?"
In light of very recent events, I should have shuddered at the thought of another man's hands on me. Yet, the familiar hum that accompanied Jarpr's calming prescience eased any fears I had. I nodded my accord; his hand extended to mine – palm up, in an offer of assistance. My fingers found his and wrapped around his cold hand, and guided me towards my room. In the entryway, just below the arch of my door, he paused. "I will wait here while you ready yourself. Call for me when you are ready for me to enter." He bowed his head while his eyes continued to search my face for consent.
I turned from him and closed the door, then without thought slowly removed the red gown I wore and replaced it inside the dressed. Deliberately, I removed the stiff undergarments at my bosom and placed those in the drawer tucked inside the dresser then turned towards the bed.
No longer were the sheets tangled or tossed about from my restless night or startled awakening mere hours previous. Now the sheets were pulled tightly across the bed, the surface smooth before me. Pillows had been neatly arranged along the upper edge of the bed, and a stray flower had been placed in the middle – a gift from my sisters perhaps? Thought I had not seen them today, their presence was still felt through their thoughtful actions. My fingers curled about the top corner nearest to me and pulled the covers down to allow my body to curl comfortably beneath me. The coolness of the sheets that greeted my skin was comfortable and I pulled the lightest sheet back over my almost naked body, and then turned to lay on my stomach with my cheek pressed against the warming bed. "You may enter," I called out to Jarpr, unsure if he would hear me through the thickness of the door.
The entry opened and he stepped inside; with a brief turn he slid the door closed again and walked towards the nightstand near my bed. He retrieved the scented oils, and then approached the bed. With care, he lowered the oils to the stone floor next to the bed, and then spoke to me, "May I?"
My eyes closed and I nodded. His cool hands withdrew the sheet from my shoulders and pulled it down towards my waist, a chill passed through my skin as he quickly tucked the sheet securely about my hips and then retrieved the oil. I heard his hands rub the oil together between his palms before his skin met mine. His fingers probed and pulled at the tense muscles; with care he tugged each knot, each tight tendon until the tension began to melt away. "Tell me another story Jarpr," I requested.
"Of course your Highness. I have already told you about the gods of my country and their protectiveness of the people," he began.
"You had said there was a family of gods? I only recall the Mother and the one who wrestled with the mountains." His recount of the stories whispered by the old women of his country flitted across my memory, it was hazy at best and I struggled to remember the details. The deep laughter that built from his chest disrupted my thoughts as he laughed.
"Yes, yes. Uruz, the mountain god and Berchta the mother god; I am not surprised you recalled the story of Uruz wrestling with the Iza range. There is also Algir, a god of the warriors; he is the shield of the people who can bring peace or war to the land. There is a story whispered on cold, winter night of the early days, before Tyr was formed, and how the people began to fight and bicker. That's when the murders began," he said darkly.
A chill raced down my spine, "Murders?" I whispered.
Jarpr explained, "The people would go to Mother Berchta's temples, and pray to her, pleading for those things they were most in need of, and then their prayers were answered. When people were hungry, Berchta would bless a generous butcher or baker with a surplus of food, and the needy families would be fed; the blacksmith who had run out of ore would meet a travelling miner who was looking to lighten his load. As her blessing became more and more renowned, Berchta was greatly exalted for her gifts that she bestowed upon the people."
Jarpr paused and his face took on a more solemn countenance. He let out a brief sigh as he found the right words. His voice was just above a whisper as he continued. "Sadly, just as the people were beginning to rejoice over Berchta's blessing, the bodies began to turn up. At first, no one made much note of it, as no one had made the connection yet. But as more and more people were murdered, the pattern became obvious: someone, or something, was targeting those who had prayed to Berchta and had those prayers answered. The killers would steal the blessing, whether it be gold or food or livestock or other material possessions." His head shook angrily at the story, "These murderers preyed upon the weakest and neediest of people. Algir the Guardian became enraged, burdened by the grief and fear from villagers as the murders continued. The Earth itself shudders should he walk the land to engage in a battle himself, and when he entered the valley from the mountains, it is said the whole ground shook with fear."
"How did anyone connect the murders? Were they all in one village?" The story held me captive as his hands soothed the tense muscles alongside my spine.
"No, but the bodies found were drained of blood. They had been hung upside down and sliced open and the killers took every drop, probably for a sacrament of some kind, yet the brutality was unwarranted. Ansuz sent his son, Tiwaz – the god of honor and justice to assist Algir. Together they smote the hunters, the nomads who had viciously slaughter the innocents. Uruz the mountain god joined them, and the three god-brothers ripped each hunter's limbs from them while they still lived, then burned the remains outside the villages, as a warning to anyone who dared to repeat these heinous murders or to anyone who would prey on the weak. It is whispered that when the bodies were burned, the smoke burned a deep purple. These murderers were something terribly evil, something not human." He inhaled deeply before he continued, "It is said, the gods will revisit any evil they see upon the innocent, regardless of boundaries."
I imagined the dark, billowing smoke crawling upwards into a high purple tower, wafting into the villages, a symbol that both ended the horror of the murders, while this supernatural smoke chilled the hearts of the witnesses, proof that the murderers were something other. My own nightmare from several nights' previous came to the forefront of my mind and I shuddered beneath Jarpr's hands. He paused then, "Your Highness? Did my stories frighten you?"
"No, you have not frightened me. Your gods sound just and took the appropriate action for the people they protected. All beings, god or mortal are worthy of understanding." With the sheet secured about me, I turned my body, pulled myself into a seated position and looked into his face.
His face changed, showing confusion, "If you were not afraid, then why did you become so tense?" His hands still lingered on my shoulder, and they pulled at a tight and unyielding muscle.
I bit my lower lip and considered whether or not to share my dream with him, the images flashed before my sight again, another tremor shook my body. "I had a nightmare, several nights ago, it was shortly after you first arrived." My heart raced as the images flooded in. "It was horrible," I whispered, my voice small in my fear.
Jarpr sat directly in front of me, his hands reached behind my shoulders, massaging them. His cool fingers dug deep into my skin, finding the tight tissue at the base of my neck, in between my shoulders. My body shifted toward him, my back arched toward his, my chest almost touching his, my eyes closed in pleasure as the knots one by one faded away. He was so close to me I could feel the electricity humming from his body, a force field that surrounded him, his breath fanned my face, sweet, cool, and my eyes slid open. It was that moment that I became aware of the heat and tension between our two bodies; my torso felt strangely connected to his, as if a band surrounded us, and pulled us tightly together. His gaze met mine, his eyes a dark onyx, pupils dilated, and intensity I could not identify. My breath sputtered, hiccupped, and my heart raced again, not from fear this time, but something else, something I could not quite understand.
His face flashed with confusion, then anger before he regained his composure. Quickly, he untangled his arms from behind my shoulders and withdrew himself several feet away from the body. The absence of his nearness to me stung and stole my breath, causing my lungs to burn. "Highness, where were you before you returned to your chambers?"
My whole body flamed with embarrassment - shame at having reacted so physically to this strange, unknown man; and shame at my reaction so closely after leaving Yåkov's bedchamber. What did that make me? A woman who gave herself to her husband, but burned while in another man's arms? Was that what I did? Did I burn for Jarpr? Is this how my body was supposed to respond to Yåkov's touches and caresses? Is this how I should feel towards my husband? Yet, this is how my traitorous body felt towards a servant, a disloyal servant instead? Anger filled me, shoved every ounce of shame from my veins as I responded, "I was with my husband," I answered.
"You should rest, Your Highness. I can return in the morning," his words were authoritative, while his tone requested leave from my presence.
"Thank you, Jarpr. You are excused." Within a moment, he was gone, the door sounding his departure as it clicked softly closed. I remained alone in the bed, my skin aflame, and the only thought in my head was a question. Why did I do that?
There's a lot going on in this chapter and that I wanted to make sure to cover. Of course, we have to hear back from Leif to find out what's going on in the kingdom and wrap up that confrontation between Jarpr and Izabel. I really struggled with this chapter, because I have to keep moving her forward and that means she has to face some difficult things.
I am very interested in your feedback regarding Jarpr, Leif, and especially Yåkov. Let me know what you think. I'm also still considering a Jarpr POV outtake chapter and would love to hear some requests. Reviews are better than chocolate. :)
