Page 13 of The Magic of Vanaheim

The boy smirked at Håkon, his features lighting up with mischief. It was a good look on him.

“I’ve just the idea. Why don’t we start with the bathing ceremony?”

“Bathing?” Gudrun gasped. “No. It’s not customary in Jotunheim to—”

Taking Håkon’s hand, the prince locked eyes with him. He was so close. Still, Håkon knew he wouldn’t have enough time to draw his blade and deliver a precise cut. There were too many guards around them, too many opportunities for the prince toparry or twist away. ButHel, standing this close, theVanrmust realize that Håkon wasn’t his promised princess.

“I don’t expect you to undress in front of an audience or prance around in the bath for the whole court to watch you. How about we complete the ceremony in private? Just you and me?”

“My prince—” Frekegar interrupted, obviously not fond of the idea.

“Agreed,” Håkon squeaked, voice pitched high with nerves. This was his chance. If they were alone, he could make sure Vanaheim’s ruler died.

“Good.” The prince sounded so pleased. It was as if he couldn’t wait to get his bride-to-be alone and into the bath with him.

Anger bubbled up in Håkon’s chest. So that’s how it was. ThisVanrbastard couldn’t wait to get his hands on a scared girl of barely sixteen summers! Håkon couldn’t wait to teach him a deadly lesson.

Smiling, theVanrgently pulled Håkon towards the door leading deeper into the royal chambers.

“Follow me, Princess.”

five

The Bathing Ceremony

?alvi

Talvi’s pulse raced. He dismissed his guards and guided his betrothed into his private chambers. Although theallegedprincess of Jotunheim wore gloves of fine white leather, Talvi could feel a large, strong hand in his grasp.

He could barely believe his luck. Just one glance was enough for him to realize that whoever Bergelmir had sent to Saeborg couldn’t possibly be Princess Anya. It wasn’t that his betrothed lacked beauty; many shieldmaidens were tall and broad-shouldered, and the cream-colored coat that hugged theJotunn’sframe was seductively gathered at the waist by a jeweled belt. No, hisJotunnspouse was undoubtedly breathtaking. But his uncle’s spies in Jotunheim reported the princess was a slender maiden with reddish-blonde hair. Yet, the features Talvi glimpsed behind the veil, bright eyes and light blond hair, reminded him of someone else. Could it be? At least hisseiðrwas sure about it. It sang happily in Talvi’s veins and tingled at the tips of his fingers as soon as he’d laid eyes on theJotunn.

“I read that the bathing ceremony in Jotunheim is a women’s affair. Is it true?” Talvi asked as he opened the door to his private bath with a quickly wovenseiðr. Who could blame him if he wanted to show off a bit in front of his betrothed?

The luxury of the large bath, dominated by a huge, heated basin high in the citadel, was a gift of his mothers’ magic. Vellamo would change the colors of the tiles from time to time with a touch of her hand and a sung verse, opulent golds, oranges, and reds, like a spectacular sunset, or the deep greens and blues of the ocean, like it was right now.

Talvi’s question wasn’t deigned with an answer; the warrior in disguise was probably waiting for the perfect opportunity to bury a knife in his back. Or was Talvi’s imagination playing tricks on him? Letting go of their hand, Talvi faced his betrothed.

“In Vanaheim, the ceremony is about the spouses washing their old life from each other’s skin and beginning a new one.”

TheJotunntensed, ready to pounce. And Talviknewthis body language. He had admired it at every Þing Tournament he’d been allowed to attend. He still hoarded the little silver mirrors and glass orbs he’d convinced his uncle to enchant, so they would show him little sequences of Håkon Bloodaxe’s duels. Talvi had spent days watching them, memorizing Håkon’s movements, and staring at his beautiful features until his mothers chastised him and ordered him to find another occupation.

Taking a step back, just far enough to dissuade a surprise attack, Talvi made an inviting gesture.

“We can take turns bathing if that makes you more comfortable,” he offered.

If this indeed was Håkon, Talvi had better convince him he wasn’t lusting after his youthful sister.

“You can change behind the screen if you like.” With a wave of his hand, Talvi made the changing screen he’d put into a corner glide back right next to the basin.

A flash of bright blue eyes could be seen behind the veil as his betrothed forgot to look down for a second.

It’s him! It’s really him!Suddenly, he was sure of it. Not a doubt left. Talvi could barely restrain himself from trapping his betrothed with a quickseiðrthere and then, pulling down his veil and promising him to lay the Nine Worlds at his feet if he just stayed to marry Talvi. But, at the same time, he was too curious how their little game of deception would unfold.

Getting a grip on his reaction quickly, Håkon offered him a curt nod and fled over to the screen. But he’d given himself away. Hidden by a veil or not, Talvi would recognize this face, these beautiful,beautifuleyes anywhere. Stepping a bit farther away still, Talvi made sure to allow plenty of room for Håkon to pass him. He wanted to see how hisJotunnwould handle this situation, how he planned to pass for his sister when he had to get into the bath.

Fondly, Talvi watched Håkon rummage behind the screen. It took theJotunnsome time to get rid of the clothes, laces, and brooches that were surely unfamiliar to him. He’d turned away from Talvi, only the top of his blond head visible. When he finally managed to shed his clothes, he lingered indecisively for a moment.

“Turn around.” Håkon’s voice sounded soft, shy even. He was doing such a good job of keeping up this ridiculous disguise.