As I sit in my bathing chamber adding makeup to my lashes, working to prevent the tremble that seems determined to emerge, I wonder how I’ll respond if I’m forced to enter a room alone with a man I don’t know. What if he tries to force himself on me? Will I lose control? Will he survive it?
Ulfhild better keep her promise.
She does. In the most revolting way possible.
Literally revolting.
Frida knocks on my door just as I’m finishing my makeup. She enters with a smile, anticipating whatever’s planned. “Ulfhild told me we need to make sure you’re left alone,” she tells me.
“That’s right,” I agree, growing nervous about whatever she has planned. She’s enjoying this way too much.
“This’ll do the trick,” she assures me, handing me a small metal vial. “But let me leave the room first.” Reaching for a second vial, this one glass, she adds, “Use this if the first one doesn’t keep them away.”
“What have you brought me?” I shake them, listening to the slosh of liquid inside.
“Treat the first one like a perfume and then plan to stay in the corner all night. We’ll have a couch for you there. Nobody will notice it if they don’t get close to you. I’ve warned the girls to keep away. It will repel anyone who gets within a few feet. The men will detect a smell and attribute it to that. But it’s more than just a scent. I’m told it’s quite effective. The second one goes on your lips. You’ll need to kiss him … or her … but it’ll act quickly after that. Just wipe it from your mouth as soon as you’re done so you don’t pass out too.”
Smart. I’ve heard of these elixirs but never tried one. It’s probably exactly what I need. Frida smirks just like Thor when he’s taunting Toffer, then opens the door to escape.
I expect a repulsive smell when I uncork the first vial, but I’m still surprised by how my senses react. My nose goes first, triggering a series of gags as it rebels against the attack. My other response is more interesting. The elixir wriggles into my thoughts to find whatever repels me and amplify it. I get a touch of déjà vu as the magic hints at a subtle memory but it passes quickly, the elixir gaining full control of my senses. I feel as if I’m eating bugs, their crunchy bodies and mushy centers sliding down my throat. Now I’m really fighting to stop myself from vomiting.
Thankfully, that feeling passes after a minute or so. And I’m left with the smell. Even that isn’t a problem for long, as my senses dull to it too. Perhaps five minutes after I painted the liquid onto my pulse points, I’m ready to join the crowd.
I finish quickly and head down the hall, letting the rising noise lead me to the ballroom where everyone will gather.
It’s enormous and dripping with displayed wealth, gold and silver threads highlighting the purples and reds that adorn the walls and ceiling. Men and women dressed in serving clothes wander through the room, balancing trays of drinks and appetizers they offer to all the guests.
Two hundred people could fit in here easily. The fifty or so that are here would make it feel empty were it not for the dozen couches positioned strategically through the space—one for each of the girls. Mine sits in the corner, as Frida said it would. Half the bedmates have arrived and they’re holding court on the recliners they chose. Already, each has a group forming around them, staking their claim to time that night. The others trickle in over the next ten minutes or so.
The elixir works better than I could have hoped. I make my way to my spot in the room, getting a wide berth from anyone I can’t avoid. And then I watch. It’s a fascinating dance tonight. The women hold court, but there’s no doubt who holds power. Their suitors seem to instinctively order themselves according to rank. Each of the bedmates has someone sharing her couch and every single one ripples with strength and domination. The others all give them the space and privacy they clearly expect.
Three times, someone in the crowd notices me and wanders in my direction. The first man wears a seductive smile, probably convinced he’s scored a quick pass to the front of the line. As he gets closer, though, his lips start to shift, slowly dropping into a confused frown. And then he’s fully engulfed by my scent. His eyes widen in surprise as he takes a step back, then another. Mouthing his apology, he finally turns to flee.
I’ve never enjoyed a rejection so much. It almost makes the smell worthwhile.
The other two have similar reactions. And then nobody else tries. I’ve earned my solitude. Now I can relax and observe.
Within a half hour, the first bedmate rises to her feet. She extends a hand to welcome her companion to join her and strolls across the room toward the hallway. She must be the signal to the others for the evening’s festivities to begin. One by one, they follow suit, leaving me as the sole bedmate in the room while the rest of the suitors chat and drink, waiting their turn.
For four hours, I sit by myself and inspect the men and women trusted enough to live in this forbidden place. None are very remarkable. In my worlds, dragons choose their riders, often based on their strength of body or character. Not here, it seems. These people are soft, their wealth denying them the lessons of a hard life. Arrogance and egos dripping with entitlement are the strongest emotions I sense from them.
The night finally ends just after midnight. Everyone has been sated, and the girls are dismissed to go find their beds. I join them, making sure I’m seen heading down the hall toward my room. But my night has just begun.
Tonight, I’ll do the first reckless thing I’ve done since arriving here.
Chapter five
Sifa
I Told You to Leave
KnutandFridaaren’tnearly careful enough.
I follow Frida out to the stables and then both of them to a nearby clearing. It takes us barely thirty minutes to reach it—far too close for a meeting they hope to be secret. And then they’re louder than they should be. Like they want to announce what they’re doing. Or they’re too arrogant and reckless to suspect they’d be followed. Whatever the reason, I’m happy to be able to get close enough to see and hear them well.
Troels doesn’t keep them waiting long. Within a few minutes of their arrival, a large man emerges from the trees. He stalks toward them, boots kicking branches out of his way as he glares with narrowed eyes at the pair. Maybe he doesn’t like being summoned to a meeting in the middle of the night.
“Why am I here?” he demands as soon as he gets close enough.
