Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (26 page)

“Of course,” Atticus crossed his arms on his
chest and leaned against his desk, “it is doubled.”

“Excellent,” Drakkar muttered then went on.
“My men will stay in Fyngaard to increase the watch on Finnie. She
does not leave this Palace, not even to wander the grounds, unless
she is in my presence or she has at least four of your guard and
four of my men with her directly as well as scouting for danger
that may be around her.”

“
That seems excessive,” Aurora put in then
threw out a graceful hand in a way that was uncannily like Finnie.
“This
is
Fyngaard.”

“And it was on the steps of this Palace in
which we now stand where the assassin was felled by your daughter’s
dagger, was it not?” Drakkar returned and he saw Aurora’s teeth
clench.

Atticus butted in. “This is true, Drakkar,
but the Fyngaardians are sophisticated and cultured. A doubling of
the king’s guard and the men of The Drakkar wandering the city will
cause unease. They are unused to this. Especially if their Winter
Princess wanders her city under heavy guard. Normally, she wanders
it freely and her guard, as it didn’t need to be,” he stated this
unable to hide his pride, “was never heavy.”

“They can have the guard, my men and a
secure princess or they can have Baldur’s rule,” Drakkar clipped.
“Which do you think they would choose?”

Atticus closed his mouth.

Drakkar continued and when he did, his
voice was low. “I will remind you of what I am sure you will never
forget. Finnie is not Sjofn. She has not, from a very young age,
participated in the hunt. She has not felled numerous deer and
other wild animals. Indeed, the sight of a dead deer made her
visibly retch. She does not carry a dagger on her person at all
times and if she did, she would have no idea how to use it. Your
daughter proved she could defend her person and her guard
understood even before she proved it that, in such an event, she
could handle herself.” He paused to drive his point home. “My
Finnie
cannot.
”

“We understand, Drakkar,” Atticus replied,
his voice low as well but his was placating.

Drakkar swept his gaze through Aurora before
he locked his eyes on his king.

Then he said what he had called them both
there to hear, what they both needed to understand and what they
both needed to repeat into the right ears until the words swept
Lunwyn and, indeed, the entirety of the Northlands.

“
Indeed, I believe you do but you must now
understand this. I have vowed to my Finnie that nothing will harm
her, nothing will even touch her, and that I will keep myself from
harm.” He bent at the waist taking himself forward two inches
toward his king when he finished, “If she comes to any harm, if she
is even
touched
, I will
command it instantly and the drakkar will rise.”

Even Aurora pulled in an audible breath as
Atticus’s eyes grew wide and his face again paled.

“Drakkar –” Atticus started, his tone now
downright soothing but Drakkar shook his head.

“I will call the dragon, Atticus, I vow to
you, I will call them all. They will sweep this land at my command
and I’ll have your throne. You know I do not wish it but I will
take it and the fire of my dragons will melt every flake of snow
and every sheet of ice across this land and with it everything in
their path and they will do this as my vengeance for any harm
coming to Finnie. If you do not do all in your power to see that my
wife is safe, regardless she is no longer a daughter who has your
blood in her veins which means a child without your blood will
eventually sit on your throne, I will call the dragon. I will not
delay. I vow this to you.”

“You are heard, Drakkar,” Atticus
whispered.

“Be certain the right people hear it too,”
Drakkar replied.

Atticus nodded.

Drakkar’s eyes moved to Aurora and she was
observing him closely but did so giving nothing away.

But he knew she heard him too. Aurora always
heard. Aurora made an art of listening.

He straightened and nodded to his sovereigns
by name but not by right then turned to go, muttering, “We are
done. I’m away to bathe and then get to my bride.”

He’d almost gained the door when Aurora
called his name.

He turned and caught her eyes.

“
Your…” she too hesitated before she said
softly, “
Finnie.
How did
her parents die?”

“I do not know,” Drakkar replied. “The elves
did not tell me.”

She nodded and he started to turn again when
she again called his name so he stopped and raised impatient brows
to her.

“She came to…” another pause then a very
soft, “a whole other world just to…” she pulled in a slight breath,
“see them?”

“Indeed,” Drakkar answered. “And in doing
so, to see you,” he clarified.

Aurora held his eyes.

Then she observed quietly, “She must have
loved them very much.”

“No,” Drakkar stated. “In the last days as I
told her of you, any mention, even in passing, of your names, her
eyes would light, her cheeks would pink with excitement, her
attention, always avid, would grow intense. She did not love her
parents very much, my queen. They were her world. And she journeyed
from that world to have them back. That is something beyond love
but I don’t know what it is. What I do know is that they must have
been remarkable to deserve that devotion.”

Aurora held his eyes and as she did she gave
him something she’d never given him nor had he ever seen her give
anyone else, even her husband.

She visibly showed vulnerability.

Drakkar watched Queen Aurora pull her lips
between her teeth as her eyes got bright with unshed tears. Then
she released her lips and swallowed, blinking and the brightness in
her eyes disappeared.

Then she said quietly, “I look forward to
knowing your Finnie, Drakkar.”

“I can assure you, you do,” Drakkar replied
quietly back, dipped his chin to her and to his king then he walked
out of the room.

* * * * *

Bathed and dressed for dinner, Frey moved
down the hall to the door of the rooms he would be sharing with his
wife in order to have a brief moment with Finnie prior to escorting
her to dinner.

He was pleasantly contemplating how he would
spend that brief moment as he turned the knob and entered their
rooms.

He got two steps in, caught sight of his
wife and stopped dead.

Finnie was sitting in an armchair across the
great space, her knees tight to her chest, a winter white blanket
tucked around her and her cat Penelope was curled in a ball in the
seat by her hip. Her head was bowed to a book, her white-blonde
hair had been curled in a riot of waves and ringlets that fell down
her back but was pulled up at the sides in jeweled clips. Her face
was made up in a way that managed to succeed in what, until gazing
on her, Frey would have thought was the impossible task of
enhancing her already significant beauty and he could see her even
more generous than normal display of cleavage coming forth from a
gown of shimmering ice blue that was exceedingly becoming to her
complexion and coloring. All of this was to such an extreme, he had
to stop dead to give himself a chance to take it in.

Her head came up and her eyes slowly turned
to him and when the fullness of their beauty hit him, Frey
considered skipping dinner altogether. And as he considered this he
decided that later, much later, they could have something sent
up.

This idea fled his mind when she said
softly, yet listlessly, “Hey. You’re back.”

Then she turned back to her book.

These actions made Frey stay frozen for an
altogether different reason as he studied his wife and her demeanor
and registered a tone she’d never used and one which by no means
suited her.

Then he closed the door and walked into the
room, saying, “Your parents would like us to meet them for a drink
prior to us sitting down to dinner.”

Her head came up and she turned her eyes to
him briefly, not indicating even a hint of excitement at this idea,
before she looked away, nodded and then reached to grab a ribbon to
put in her book. She did this, closed it, set it on the table
beside the chair and then gently nudged Penelope, who gave a
sleepy, disturbed “mew” before jumping to the floor.

Frey had come to a stop in front of her when
she tossed the blanket aside and stood, her eyes averted, then she
attempted to scoot out from in front of him to pass him.

His arm instantly moved to hook her at the
waist and pull her in front of him, his other one moving around to
hold her there.

Her head tipped back to look at him and he
felt his gut tighten when he saw a blankness that fitted her mother
of this world far more than his Finnie.

“Is something amiss, wee one?” he asked and
she shook her head.

“Just tired and hungry,” she spoke her lie
before again looking away and moving to break from his arms.

They tightened and her eyes went back to
him.

“I asked what was amiss, Finnie,” he said
softly.

“And I told you. I’m tired and hungry,” she
lied again. “Can we go to dinner?”

“In a minute,” Frey stated, she pulled in
breath and let it out, holding his gaze, waiting then he queried,
“What’s the matter?”

Her body grew tight in his arms and her
brows inched together with irritation.

“
Frey, I
told
you. I’m tired and hungry.”

“This is not it,” he replied.

“Yes it is,” she returned.

“You’re lying, wife,” he stated and she
blinked and after she blinked her cheeks flushed and her eyes
flashed.

“Did you just say I was lying?” she
whispered.

“I did because you are,” he stated.

Her brows snapped together and her
irritation grew to visible annoyance. “I am not and anyway, if I
was, you don’t know me enough to know when I am.”

“You’re hiding something,” Frey told her,
“and I wish to know what it is.”

She pulled against his arms and was nowhere
near strong enough to dislodge them but was smart enough to give up
before she snapped, “I’m not hiding anything.”

“
Wife,” he gave her a gentle squeeze, “I
have seen you tired, hungry, and tired
and
hungry. You do not lose the light in your eyes or
the cheerfulness with which you hold your frame even when you are
one, the other
or
both. Now,
you’re hiding something and I wish to know what it is.”

She glared up at him but didn’t speak.

So he guessed, “Are you nervous about dinner
with your parents?”

Her glare narrowed and she asked, “Why would
I be nervous? They’re my parents. We’ve had thousands of
dinners.”

This was a lie too though he let that
particular one pass.

“All right, if you’re not nervous about your
parents, then what are you not sharing with me?”

It was then she stated with not a small
amount of ire, “Okay, Frey, actually, I
am
hiding something and it’s
my
something to hide and you can be a big, strong guy
but if I have something on my mind I don’t wish to share, I don’t
have to share it. So, suck it up because I’m
not
going to share it. All right?”

“Suck it up?” he asked quietly.

“Man up or…” she shook her head with
frustration as she searched for words from both their worlds he
would understand, “I don’t know. You’re just going to have to deal
with it.”

He dipped his face closer to hers and said
carefully, “My wee Finnie, I do not like that you would keep
anything from me.”

“Tough,” she retorted instantly and his head
went back as he again saw the flash in her eyes.

And he suddenly understood what that flash
meant.

“Are you angry with me?” Frey asked.

“No,” she lied again.

“Gods,” he stared in her irate, still
beautiful eyes, “you are. You’re angry with me.”

“I said I’m not, Frey.”

“
You lie again, Finnie. I see it in our
eyes, your anger is very clear and you’re not hiding it. What, by
the gods, I would like to know is what I did to deserve it. I’ve
been gone not two hours.”

She glared at him and kept her mouth
shut.

“Finnie, we’ll delay joining your parents
until you tell me.”

That was when her cheeks flushed, her eyes
blazed and her jaw got tight and before she could rein the words
in, she spewed, “That’s okay by me. I’ll just call my maidservants
and order trays to be brought up. Maybe, if you’re lucky,
Viola
will bring them up.”

Bloody hell.

Her bloody maids had been talking.

“Finnie –”

“Let me go, Frey,” she demanded, now pushing
at his arms with her hands.

“Wife, look at me,” he ordered, she did and
she stilled.

Then she suddenly lost control and
shouted, “
I
said, let me go!
”

At her losing hers, Frey felt his temper
snag and therefore growled, “Calm down, wife.”

She stopped pushing and glared at him.

Then she stated, “I see, you’re done with
her. Three days, was it? That’s a long time. I can see that you
would be. Perhaps I should talk to my mother and father, see about
letting her go. Would that be good for you?”

Damn it to hell.

Her
bloody
too informative, gods damned
maids.

“Finnie –”

“Well?” she cut him off to demand.

It was then he clipped, perhaps not
cleverly, “
As you know,
wife, the Winter Palace is
yours.
You
live in Fyngaard. Your parents reside in their castle in
Snowdon and have returned here to prepare for the Gales. The lovely
Viola is in
your
employ and
if it is your wish to let her go then you’ve every right to do
so.”