Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (28 page)

Okay, one could say this wasn’t getting any
better.

Frey kept at it. “And the Drakkar sitting
that throne would definitely be The Frey and it would
most
definitely be
The
Drakkar. That means, wife, your
father is king and you are princess at
my
bidding. If I moved on your father’s throne, the
vast majority of your father’s own army would either lay down their
swords or carry them to fight for
me.
”

Yep, definitely not getting any better.

He leaned back and continued. “However, I
do not wish these obligations. But I am Frey, I am The Drakkar but
even if I was not, I am of the House of Drakkar, an aristocratic
line that goes back further than any other. But, even if not,
nevertheless, we are
aristocrats.
I am not only a nobleman, I am
the
nobleman, Finnie. And in this land or any other, a
nobleman does what he wishes
with whom
he wishes, without compunction, without shame and most
definitely without
question
.”

It was then,
I
leaned back but I did it in a wrench like he’d struck
me.

He saw it, his eyes narrowed but he didn’t
relent.

I knew this when he said quietly, “Even if
that question came from
his wife.
”

I stood stock-still and stared at him.

His voice got quieter when he stated, “But
you were not my wife then, Finnie. I barely knew you but what I
knew of you…” he hesitated then said, “We did not get along. This
woman is a servant and I can see you have a manner where you treat
people equally but she is
not
equal. She is a servant, I am an aristocrat, she knows her
place and I was born to mine.”

I swallowed.

Frey kept talking.

“No nobleman would take any woman against
her will. If he does, he is not noble and will be stripped of his
banner and the protection of his House. But I did not take her
against her will. I enjoyed her and she enjoyed me –”

That was when I lifted my hand and
whispered, “Stop talking.”

He shook his head and pushed away from the
door, saying, “You must understand this, wife.”

“I understand,” I took a step back as he
started advancing. “I totally get it. You can stop talking.”

Frey kept advancing while he kept speaking.
“There are men who pledge to honor their wives and they do, because
their wives give them reason.” I moved backward as he kept coming
at me. “It could be you give me that reason and we grow into this
type of marriage,” he stated and I kept retreating as he kept
moving toward me.

And I did this staring at him in shock and,
I had to admit, not a small amount of despair.

Grow into that type of marriage?

“But what I do, Finnie and who I do it with
is none of your concern, be she servant or duchess. I’m explaining
this to you patiently so the next time you learn of something like
this, you won’t show me the same disrespect you did at your table
with your parents, speaking not one word to me and withholding your
eyes from mine.”

The next time?

I hit wall and Frey hit me, his body in my
space, his big hands spanning my waist, his head tipped down so his
eyes could hold mine prisoner.

“You…” I started, cleared the frog that was
all of a sudden in my throat and kept going, “just last night, you
told me the measure of a man is how he cares for his bride.”

His brows knitted and he agreed, “I
did.”

“So,” I whispered, “what does it say about a
man who dumps his bride in a filthy cabin, leaves her there to fend
for herself, comes back and shows her gentleness and kindness,
which, incidentally, she practically has to beg for then brings her
home to a palace only to make her sit at a table and watch while
his ex-lover serves him food? Tell me Frey, what measure is that of
a man?”

His fingers tensed into my flesh and he
whispered back, “I thought we’d come to an understanding, you and
I, about what was past and what we were moving toward in our
future.”

“I did too,” I replied. “But apparently, I
was wrong.”

Really
wrong.

Heartbreakingly wrong.

His hands slid up to rest under my ribs and
they again tensed when he started, “Finnie –”

But I cut him off. “You left Finnie back
at your hunting cabin, Frey. I’m Princess Sjofn here to you. But,
make no mistake, husband,
you
left her back there. I was willing to bring her with us but
she is now
gone.
”

His eyes flashed and his hands slid up to
span my ribs as he growled, “Wife.”

“Careful of your hands, Frey,” I whispered,
“a nobleman doesn’t take a woman against her will.”

That gained me another flash before he
stated, “I see, you have a tantrum about me bedding a servant at
the same time you threaten to withhold from me. Does that make
sense to you?”

“
Absolutely,” I replied. “Because earlier
this evening, you walked in on me, hurt about what I’d learned
about you and that you were the kind of man who felt free to
humiliate me in my own home.
Then
not an hour later, you
further
humiliated me at the same time you rubbed my nose
in precisely what was injuring me. For five days, you stopped at
nothing to convince me you are a kind man, a thoughtful man and a
gentle man but I know I should never forget what my father drilled
into my head for years and years and that is that first impressions
never lie and you may command the power of elves and dragons, but
you are none of those kinds of man.”

His eyes flashed again and, if I read them
right, he seemed even more pissed than before.

In fact, infuriated.

“
Tell me you jest,” he rumbled and that was
when
my
brows
knitted.

“Why on earth would I jest about that?”

His fingers dug into my ribs and his face
dipped so close he was the only thing I could see.

“
Was it
you
I humiliated, Finnie? Am I treated to this behavior from
you tonight due to
your
injury?”

I held my breath and stared in his eyes.

Good God? Did he know I wasn’t Sjofn?

He couldn’t know. There was no
possibility.

Could he?

I held his eyes and he held mine unblinking
but he looked strangely like he was waiting for me to say
something.

When I didn’t, suddenly Frey let me go,
turned and stalked to the door, saying, “Prior to joining Viola who
I know will gladly give me what I should be getting from my wife,
I’ll send her up with something for your stomach.”

That stomach contracted physically, my back
pressing against the wall as if I’d suffered a physical blow.

He opened and stepped out the door but
stopped, turned and seared me with one of his ferocious scowls that
I’d forgotten could be so terrifying.

“Sleep well, wife,” he called.

Then he was gone.

We Women Carry Many Burdens

A week and a half later…

I watched my arrow fly over the huge target
and get stuck in the trees beside the Palace.

I bit my lip and slowly turned my eyes to my
Dad to see his eyes were pointed in the direction of where my arrow
landed and his shoulders were slumped.

I’d disappointed him.

Again.

Crap.

“I seem to…” I hesitated when his gaze came
to me and it did it before he could fully hide the disappointment
and my heart wrenched, “pull up right before I let go.” I
finished.

Yeah, pull up, and to the side, and one time
down so the arrow embedded in the turf five feet in front of the
target.

“Indeed, daughter,” he muttered, sighed and
stated, “Why don’t we finish for today?”

He jerked his chin at a boy standing close
who came forward hurriedly to take my bow and I pulled the quiver
that was strapped across my chest over my head and handed it to him
with a smile.

Then I looked at the target that had three
of my arrows in it, none of them in any of the lines and another
boy was rushing around gathering arrows but he was rushing
around
behind
the
target.

I sucked at archery. Totally. Playing it
on Wii did
not
set you up
for the real thing.

And Sjofn obviously didn’t and my Dad was
obviously proud of her skill.

“I seem to have lost my touch,” I muttered
to Dad.

He put a hand to my elbow and started to
lead me through the snow to the side door of the Palace.

“Yes, this is what it seems,” he muttered
back.

“How about we come back out tomorrow?” I
asked, forcing brightness in my tone and I watched him turn his
head to me.

And that was when I saw what I saw more than
once when I was with him – a weird kind of sorrow that hurt to see.
I didn’t get it but it was definitely there. Maybe it was a
father’s natural reaction as he was coming to terms with his
daughter getting married and moving on to another man in her life.
But it didn’t seem like that. And it got stronger every time we
came out and tried this archery business and we’d been out four
days in a row.

I’d been super excited when he’d approached
me and asked if I’d like to go out and shoot arrows. First, I
wanted to shoot arrows, I’d never done that before except on a
video game (which obviously didn’t count). Second, I wanted to
spend time with my Dad and the last week, Dad had seemed hesitant
and distant with me so I jumped at the chance.

Contradictorily, Mom had warmed towards
me.

Well, as warm as my Mom of this world could
be which wasn’t super warm.

My
Mom was giggly and cuddly, always teasing and
tickling and snuggling, both Dad
and
me, and she had given these traits to me.

Queen Aurora was nothing like that.

Still, she no longer seemed infuriated or
impatient with me and often sought my company, though we spent our
time together while she embroidered which I found mind-numblingly
boring (embroidery, that was).

Mom, however, she was
not
boring. Although reserved and not very talkative,
she had a skill with drawing people out and not often, but in
moments that surprised you which made it even better, she displayed
a very dry wit.

And she had taken me into Fyngaard several
times and that was when we had (borderline) fun together. Clearly,
she liked shopping. Definitely, I liked it. And one could say the
liquid chocolate at Esmeralda’s was
brilliant
(it wasn’t hot cocoa, like I expected it would be,
it was actual
liquid chocolate
, a thick, rich, dark chocolate you could spoon up or dunk
in the almond biscuits and glazed, fried, cake-like fingers they
served with it and it was freaking
divine
). And Fyngaard was most assuredly a cosmopolitan city with
high fashion which meant the dressmakers and the ensembles of
passersby were out of sight, sophisticated cafés and elegant
restaurants that served fabulous food.

I loved the city and I liked my Mom. It was
weird she was so different and sometimes it freaked me out but,
even so, it was wonderful to spend time with her, hear her voice,
sometimes see her small smile or her eyes light and rarely, but
they were treasured, feel her touch on my arm or hand.

Dad was easier to like, he was much like my
father in ways that made my heart swell and clutch at the same
time. He was gregarious and had an open, broad sense of humor. I
heard his laughter quite often in the Palace and often saw him
smiling at people.

Just not with me.

Another boy rushed to open the door for us
(I had learned royalty didn’t do things like open doors or, well,
pretty much anything but walk to get places, eat food people served
and breathe on their own) and Dad replied distractedly as we
entered the Palace, “Yes, Sjofn, I’ll look forward to that.
Tomorrow, same time.”

Then he started to turn down a hall and I
called, “Da… I mean, Father.”

Shit! My girls kept telling me I didn’t call
them Mom and Dad but Father and Mother.

He turned and looked at me, visibly forcing
a smile.

My heart clutched again when I saw it.

“I’ll find my way again,” I promised softly
yet fervently. “So much has happened and I just, um… lost my focus.
With practice, I’ll find it again even if I have to come out every
day, I’ll do it and, I promise, I’ll find it.”

He studied me with something working in his
eyes then he walked the two steps back to me, lifted a hand and
touched the side of my hair while his gaze never left mine.

Then he said softly back, “Thank you, Sjofn,
but maybe now that you’re married you have another focus. Perhaps
we can spend time finding something new we enjoy sharing together.
What do you think of that?”

My heart lightened and I grinned at him.
Then I admitted, “Well, I kind of actually
like
archery.” His eyes brightened at this news, I took
heart and I went on, “I just for some reason have become not very
good at it. I’m totally into keeping it up and getting better again
if you’re happy to help me.”

His eyes stayed bright when he replied
quietly, “I’m more than happy to help you, daughter.”