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Ilmr hadn’t awakened to the feel of a lover stroking her bare arm while covering her shoulder blades with tiny, stammering kisses in such a long time that she was, at first, startled.

It took only seconds for her to replay the myriad pleasures of an afternoon in bed with Vidar that had stretched into night and finally a deep, calm sleep better than any in memory.

She smiled as she lazily turned to look over her shoulder.

“Mmmm. Is it morning?”

He chuckled. “It is.”

“I need to bathe and dress for court.”

“Why?” He hadn’t paused his ministrations that were coaxing her body back to feeling the joy of aliveness.

“Told you before. My title comes with duties.”

“Why?”

She laughed. “Because.”

He rolled her toward him so that he could give some attention to the closest nipple, then raised his head just enough to meet her gaze. “That’s nonsense. You can do what you want.”

She sighed, pulled away, and grabbed a warm robe from where it had been discarded on the floor the night before. “I’m not a god, Vidar. Being queen doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want. It means I can do mostly what I want. The other part isn’t up to me.”

“Who says?”

She stopped abruptly in the middle of tying the robe’s sash around her waist. She didn’t know how to answer that. She’d dutifully performed her “duties” for so long as she’d been queen, but come to think of it, was no longer sure how that had originated.

With a shake of her head, she said, “It’s been so long I can’t remember how the Wednesday Whine became mandatory, but my subjects expect to have a day a week to make requests or air complaints publicly.”

“I’ve attended scores of Wednesday audiences. I had no idea you call it the Wednesday Whine.”

She whirled around and gave Vidar a warning punctuated by a wagging finger. “Nobody knows I call it that. And they’d better not find out.”

Laughing, sprang from the bed, full manhood exposed. Before her brain could register what was happening, she was back in bed being kissed like there was no tomorrow.

“Are you threatening me?” he teased as he slowly untied the sash that held her robe together.

“Maybe?” She really wanted to forget all else in the world, including breakfast, and simply stay in bed with the gorgeous god.

But her sense of obligation had become so ingrained after centuries of repetition that she was incapable of choosing a lover over court.

She pushed him away, scrambled out of bed, and scurried toward her dressing rooms. “I’m calling Kyeya. You’d better put some pants on.”

“Why? Do you find my unclothed form unsightly?”

“Just the opposite and you know it. Kyeya would be so jealous she might be tempted to assassinate me.”

Vidar frowned a little. “Is that possible?”

“Well. I guess. I mean it hasn’t been done to me, but I’ve heard stories.

Best not to flaunt.” He chuckled good-naturedly, but made a mental note to make sure Ilmr wasn’t being sabotaged and never would be.

Ever. “Would you like to share dinner?” The question sounded shy, almost uncertain.

A strange tone given the authority with which she normally spoke.

What he heard in her voice was fear of rejection. Specifically, being rejected by him. Vidar’s face spread into a smile of satisfaction, the likes of which only happens when someone gets that thing most desired.

“Just tell me when and where,” he said.

What struck Ilmr upon hearing that was that, except for state occasions and events that required one of the banquet halls, she dined in her quarters at the same time every day. For the first time she wondered if the boring routine of her lifestyle might make her a boring person.

“I… always have dinner here. But we don’t have to have dinner here?”

It was a question sounded by her vocal cords, but originating from her heart. She realized that she might be becoming too vulnerable to Vidar too soon, but was powerless to stop the fall.

His smile continued to be broad, captivating, and ironically warm given that he was the demigod of the northern hunt.

“Would you like to see where I live? And have dinner with me?”

Ilmr so rarely left her palace that the idea of going out was titillating. She felt goosebumps run the length of her body. “Well, yes. That could be… ah, fun.”

Vidar laughed. “I’ll prepare a fine evening for you and be back to get you.” He looked around. “Do I have your permission to enter here?”

“Alright. I’ll tell Kyeya that you have a verbal key.

” She wanted to hide her excitement from Vidar because it would be unseemly for a fae queen to appear as eager as a teenage peasant with newly awakening desires.

But the promise of doing something different, with someone different, away from the palace was not just juicy.

It was a thrill she hadn’t known she was neglecting.

She turned back just before she passed out of sight beyond the bed chamber doors.

“And we can talk about how to elevate my standing? Among queens?”

His responding wide grin opened a hole in her heart and filled it with a handful of hope and a dash of elation. The idea that he knew something she didn’t wasn’t just exciting. It was sexy.

“If you wish,” he said.

Ilmr managed to get through a day of complaints about everything from charges of commercial fraud to land disputes. If one of her subjects found her ruling unacceptable, she always answered the same way.

“You are welcome to appeal to the magistrate’s higher court. If she reviews your case and finds that it has merit, perhaps you’ll be heard at some point.”

No one at court would’ve guessed that the queen had gone through the motions of refereeing her people with half her attention engaged.

Since they were accustomed to seeing Ilmr without a hint of emotion, her job was easy.

All she had to do was keep her facial features in a perpetual state of neutral.

But all the while she was fantasizing about what the night might bring, she was half-listening to Wednesday’s seemingly endless gripes.

By the time the last docket item had been heard, she was sure it had been the longest day in the history of days.

The instant it was concluded she felt a burst of energy.

She made her way to her quarters all the while suppressing an urge to run.

Containing her enthusiasm was hard, but she’d had a fae’s lifetime of practice at never allowing her regal image to slip.

She walked with grace and intention. Head high.

Shoulders back. But the moment one of the ladies-in-waiting who’d been accompanying her opened the door to her quarters, Ilmr dismissed the entire entourage, closed the door behind her, and ran laughing into Vidar’s arms like she was brand new.

He caught her up and spun around like she was a child.

And her spirit blossomed to a fullness she hadn’t known was possible.

When Vidar stopped spinning, she found herself in the great room of a hunting lodge fit for a god.

The space was breathtaking. High ceilings made of sienna-hued timber, walls made of glass designed for full appreciation of the snowy landscapes, enormous fireplaces with roaring fires, and fur throws on plush-looking furniture.

And, like Ilmr, Vidar had a pair of wolves; only his were bigger, with pale gray fur, and hypnotic ice-blue irises.

One of them jumped up and put his paws on her shoulders so that she was looking eye-to-eye with a divine pet. She wasn’t the least afraid. It takes a lot to hurt an ordinary fae and is almost impossible to harm a queen.

“Hello,” she smiled into the wolf’s eyes. He rewarded her with a doggie grin.

“Hah! He approves,” Vidar said. “Get down,” he told the wolf, who obeyed instantly. “His manners are atrocious because I rarely have guests. Come to think of it, he may not have ever seen a guest in his lifetime.”

“I’ll consider it an honor to be the first then. What’s his name?” she asked.

“Haakon.”

“And what about the other one? His mate?”

“Oda. She’s more reserved. And has a preference for males.

But don’t worry. She’ll not harm a guest of mine.

” Vidar had hoped Ilmr would appreciate the design and environment of his home in a way befitting a Scandinavian queen, and, judging by the way she looked around, he could tell that she did.

“So. This is home when I’m not loitering at your court. ”

“You can loiter at my court anytime.” She laughed softly. “As to this. It’s… better than any palace I’ve ever seen.”

The pride in his smile was undeniable. “Spoken like a true daughter of the north,” he said. “Dinner is ready when you are.”

“I’m really, really, really hungry.” She paused and cocked her head. “I think I had lunch, but can’t be sure I ate today.”

“You had lunch. But Wednesday Whine is hard work.”

He led her into an adjacent room suitable for a couple dining in an intimate way.

The fireplace was almost as big as the sidewall into which it was set.

The table featured a vase of dark red roses and fresh fruits cut into bite sized pieces.

It was obvious that neither of those things were local.

She supposed he had the ability to source anything he wanted.

It was evident that living on the tundra wasn’t a hardship for Vidar.

He motioned for her to sit and poured a glass of the same kind of wine she kept in her quarters. When Ilmr realized he’d noticed and remembered what wine she preferred, she felt herself falling for him even more.

She sat and took a sip from the heavy crystal stem in front of her. “You noticed I have a penchant for Malbec.”

“It doesn’t surprise me it’s your drink of choice. Dark. Intense. Multilayered. And guaranteed to have something unexpected with each encounter.”

Ilmr laughed. “You’re as romantic as a poet. You think I’m dark?”