Page 5

Talvi’s pulse raced. He dismissed his guards and guided his betrothed into his private chambers. Although the alleged princess 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 the Jotunn’s frame was seductively gathered at the waist by a jeweled belt. No, his Jotunn spouse 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 his seier was 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 the Jotunn .

“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 woven seier . 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.”

The Jotunn tensed, ready to pounce. And Talvi knew this body language. He had admired it at every Ting 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 Hakon Bloodaxe’s duels. Talvi had spent days watching them, memorizing Hakon’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 Hakon, 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 quick seier there 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, Hakon 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, beautiful eyes anywhere. Stepping a bit farther away still, Talvi made sure to allow plenty of room for Hakon to pass him. He wanted to see how his Jotunn would handle this situation, how he planned to pass for his sister when he had to get into the bath.

Fondly, Talvi watched Hakon rummage behind the screen. It took the Jotunn some 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.” Hakon’s voice sounded soft, shy even. He was doing such a good job of keeping up this ridiculous disguise.

A sudden wave of anger made Talvi clench his fists. What had Bergelmir been thinking, sending his son into this death trap? How was Hakon supposed to kill a powerful vala like Talvi with nothing but a flimsy costume and a hidden blade? And even if he succeeded by sheer luck, how was he supposed to flee?

He wasn’t, Talvi realized. This was an endeavor designed for a hero’s death and a skald’s song. Bergelmir hadn’t planned for Hakon to survive his deed. Talvi gritted his teeth. One day, he would make Bergelmir pay for failing Hakon.

Turning around, Talvi busied himself collecting soaps and towels. He wanted to give Hakon a chance to get into the basin and keep up his illusion of ignorance just a bit longer. With a soft splash, Hakon dipped into the water.

“Am I allowed to turn around again?” Talvi asked innocently, although the thought of having Hakon in his bath triggered all kinds of depraved fantasies.

“If you must.”

The words sounded choked, and Talvi’s heart bled for his betrothed. Sent away by his own father to die, he must feel vulnerable, desperate. And even in this dire situation, Hakon managed to remain calm. Submerged up to his chin at the other end of the pool, an inattentive observer would probably still not have seen through his ploy. To Talvi, however, Hakon’s true identity was glaringly obvious. How could he not recognize the most beautiful man in the Nine Worlds?

“Would you allow me to wash your back?” Talvi asked. Actually, he wasn’t just supposed to clean Hakon’s back. The bathing ritual involved the future spouses scrubbing each other’s entire bodies, which often culminated in a little foretaste of the wedding night. The sensuality of the ritual made it very popular with the soon-to-be spouses.

“No,” Hakon breathed.

Of course, he didn’t want to let Talvi get near him so that he wouldn’t notice that Hakon was decidedly lacking a maiden’s body. Shame. Admiring the tense line of Hakon’s shoulders, Talvi noticed Hakon had slung a thin cloth around himself, obscuring his body under the surface and hiding the swirling tattoos of the Jotunn warriors from view. Clever boy. Talvi squatted down at the pool’s edge at a safe distance from Hakon.

“So, what do you think about Vanaheim, princess ?”

A shrug.

“Well, I want you to know that whatever your father told you, you’re welcome here. It’s true, we’re not fond of Bergelmir, but we respect the children of Jotunheim. To be honest, I’m a little disappointed that your brother did not accompany you.”

“Brogar?” Hakon’s voice was high-pitched with incredulity. He glanced over his shoulder, most of his face hidden by his long hair. But Talvi could make out the elegant line of his nose; he longed to trace it, to sink his fingers into the light strands of Hakon’s hair. They looked so soft, so lovely.

Talvi chuckled. “Not this cowardly creature. I’m talking about Hakon, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Did he tell you we met when Bergelmir sent his ships to raid the city?”

A quick shake of the head, Hakon’s shoulders tensing some more. Oh, dróttning, I’ve long seen through your disguise.

“We might’ve lost that night if Bergelmir had been clever enough to allow Hakon free rein over his army, don’t you agree?”

Hakon shrugged.

“But he was delusional enough to entrust the whole campaign to Brogar. That’s why he’ll always lose in the end.”

Silent, Hakon turned away. Talvi understood. As a bastard son, he must’ve heard an endless stream of Bergelmir’s lies. Talvi could practically hear them: The king is infallible. Succession to the throne is dictated by the gods, and you are but a lowly warrior, incapable of commanding anything greater than a longship.

Talvi suddenly craved to be close to Hakon, to console him.

“Do you mind if I get into the bath with you? I’ll stay on my side, I promise.”

“Fine.” Hakon was back to this toneless whisper. Talvi didn’t like it at all.

Whatever dark thoughts Hakon was harboring, Talvi wanted to take them away from him. Undressing where he stood, he carelessly threw his clothes on the floor.

“I liked traveling to Jotunheim with my uncle when I was a child. I loved the cold fjords and snow-covered summits.” Hakon was watching him out of the corner of his eye again, and Talvi really hoped he was enjoying the show he put up for him. “I was looking forward to the Ting Tournaments for months because I couldn’t wait to see your brother fight. It was a pleasure to watch him defeat Brogar, how he put warriors from all the clans into their place.” Slipping into the bath, Talvi continued, a small smile curving his lips as he remembered how he drove his family insane with his obsession with Hakon. “Did you know he fought back the ?sir when they attacked Jotunheim?”

Uttering a small, frustrated sound, Hakon pulled the cloth tighter around his shoulders. “Of course,” he hissed.

“Are you proud of him?”

Hakon flinched as if Talvi’s words had been a surprising, stinging blow.

“Come over,” he rasped.

Smart boy. He suspects that I’ve seen right through him, and now he thinks I’m mocking him , Talvi realized. So, he decided to drown me in my own bath. Rude!

Talvi breathed in. He was going to exploit another one of Bergelmir’s shortcomings because he was sure that Hakon had no idea who Talvi really was. Who his mothers really were. He’d soon learn.

Diving, Talvi glided through the water fast as a seal. Before Hakon had a chance to grab the weapon he surely had concealed at the pool’s edge, or prepare himself for an attack, Talvi emerged right in front of him.

Hakon recoiled, pulling up the wet cloth to cover his face at the last second. They were almost standing chest to chest, with Hakon backed against the basin’s wall, watching him with wide eyes. Talvi’s heart raced, his sole focus on his betrothed. He was so beautiful, a predator of the icy wilderness backed into a corner. Talvi longed to touch him, to make him feel at ease.

“What do you need, princess?”

Using the nickname felt natural… and was that a blush forming on Hakon’s cheeks? He was just too precious.

“I—”

Talvi sensed a disturbance, the fabric of the worlds ripping and realigning. The door flew open, and Arngrim stormed into the room with his guards in tow. He dragged one of the Jotunn warriors with him by the lapels of his coat.

“There you have our ruler,” Arngrim growled. “Now tell him about Bergelmir’s plans!”