After offering his father a nod, Njáll pecked his mother’s cheek, leaving his parents alone to no doubt discuss what he’d told them. Njáll reached out to drape an arm around his girl’s waist, thankful when she didn’t pull away.
A small shudder shook her, and he stroked her hip.
“All is well, nothing to fear.”
As they stepped out into the open air of the village, the scent of charred wood met his nostrils, and he sighed.
“Hello, little brother.”
He rolled his eyes. The irony of her calling him little was not lost on him. Astra might have been older, but he towered over her tiny frame.
Astra floated toward them, the image of their father. Moonlight-colored curls waterfalled down her back; slim braids highlighted the pale blush on her freckled cheeks. The raised scar on her face ran over her brow.
While she looked like their father, her wit rivaled their mother’s.
Unfortunately, Astra lacked all of their mother’s restraint.
“She is far too pretty for you, little brother.” He relaxed when she spoke in their tongue. Afraid of what she might say to his girl. “Shall I come with you, so you don’t frighten her?”
“Unnecessary. Nothing terrifies my little flame.”
Bright teeth flashed with the breadth of her smile, her eyes bulging as if she had just found a rare jewel. Njáll regretted the claim the moment it left his mouth. Astra would never let it be now.
His gaze drifted to the girl still tucked close to his side.
“Your?” Astra questioned, looking far too smug.
“Yes. Mine. Now save your games.” She snorted, still grinning like a pleased nymph. “If you wish to help, could you gather some garments for her? All she has is the clothes on her back. She is worthy of much more.”
“Of course she is,” Astra said, fondness seeping into her voice. “I’ll fetch her the finest garments and jewels I can find and have them brought before nightfall tomorrow.”
Their playful banter forgotten, Astra stretched up to kiss his cheek.
“Sleep well, brother. I am happy you have returned home.”
“Thank you. I’m sure Erik has missed you.”
With a giggle, she disappeared into the thicket, heading for the home she shared with Erik at the end of the dirt path.
Now, he stood alone with his girl, not knowing how to make things right with her. Instead, he silently led them toward the hewn wood sitting under a thatched mossy roof.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her exhaustion finally showing in the lethargy of her speech.
“To my home.”
Ourhome.
But he kept the thought to himself.
For now.
Nine
Njáll
Flames sputtered in the firepit, filling his home with a scent that usually relaxed him. After the harsh toll of the last few weeks, Njáll craved the intimate comfort of his own space. A place where he could just be, with no expectations and no demands of his title.
Except this time, the wrath of the girl sitting on the edge of his furs coiled around her like a serpent, preparing to strike. She watched the flickering light in the hearth, her posture rigid as angry huffs puffed out her cheeks.
