“It’s… When you…”
“Just say it, Kilda.”
“Njord was innocent.”
Ari’s eyes widen. He looks into his bowl of stew, processing the information. I hope he doesn’t hate me. I made him spill another man’s blood—of course he will fucking hate me.
“Forgive me, please, I?—”
“You wanted to help.”
“Exactly! I just didn’t?—”
“When did you learn this?”
“Since Eidunn told me, after the duel.”
“And you’ve been carrying this alone?”
I nod, holding my tongue.
Ari leans back, running a hand through his hair. A long exhale. He speaks slowly.
“Njord challenged me. He chose the duel. He chose death over first blood.” He meets my eyes. “The law was followed. He’s in Valhalla now. Odin decides.”
I can’t believe he’s just going to forgive me. I’ve been lying, plotting. The shriek of Njord’s bride-to-be rings out within me. A sob sticks in my throat. I can’t even bring that up. That’s a weight I will carry alone.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“You should have.”
A heavy silence. He reaches out and takes my hand in his.
“But I understand why you didn’t.”
“You do?” I avert my gaze, looking to the floor.
“Of course. You were afraid that—had I known the truth—I wouldn’t bed you.”
His face. A shit-eating grin. That same shit-eating grin as always. I slap his shoulder.
“You mangy bastard crow!”
He laughs that naked laugh of his. Throwing his head back in honest pleasure.
I grow a grin of my own as I sneak a hand under the cover and stroke from his foot to his knee.
“I’m so happy we’re here,” I whisper. “So happy to be with you.”
“Me too,” he says without taking his eyes off the bowl, still shoving food in his mouth.
I want him close. Feel him next to me. Smell him.
“I just…” I hesitate, unsure how to put it. “I just wish we could be alone.”
That makes his eyes rise to meet mine. He captured my intent.
“Ylvin said we would share one of the rooms, when I’m healed.”
