Remaining silent, we adjusted our clothing, neither of us wanting to return, but alas, we had no choice. All we could do now was hope Stewart was wrong and remain vigilant around Gustav in the coming days, now that he would be near us so often.
“Trust in Fate, Declan,” she eventually murmured as we made our way back through the dark woodland and neared her cottage a short time later. “Because I have no doubt it will continue steering us together.”
I could only pray as we begrudgingly went our separate ways once again, and the next day came soon enough, with Gustav by our side per King Alexander’s request. As usual, he seemed amiable as ever, yet I caught the way he looked at Astrid every so often when the king wasn't looking. Saw both his desire and anger.
The following village proved much like the ones before it, with most people having heard of Astrid. The Norse residing there were, as all those before them, peaceable and loyal to their Scottish monarch. Yet still she rallied them to her cause and urged them to continue spreading the word, hoping to quell any potential unrest.
“What ye’re trying to do is admirable enough, lass,” praised the innkeeper at the tavern, a portly, balding fellow with heavy jowls and ruddy cheeks, who was seeing to our whisky the evening before we set out for the next village. He shook his head ruefully. “Yet ‘twillnae change the minds of some in these parts.”
Although we had been asking around about the Scots with news of troublesome Norse, we had discovered little more than that people had seen strangers come through town a while back.
“Could you be more specific, friend?” I asked, frowning Gustav’s way because he’d claimed he already talked to the innkeeper. “We have heard there is a group of Scotsmen wandering these parts, claiming there is unrest. If we find them, mayhap we can find the Norse of whom they speak.”
“Aye, there was a group of ‘em,” he confirmed, pouring our drinks. “Rowdy bunch. Only stayed a day or two, stirring everyone up about troublesome Norse that shouldnae be here.”
“Yet we havenae come across any trouble thus far,” Stewart said, having just joined the three of us. “So it seems their words fell on deaf ears.”
“At least in this village,” Gustav conceded, his words at odds with his untroubled countenance. “But what of the next?”
“Did they say where they were going from here?” Astrid wondered.
The innkeeper slid our drinks to us and pondered for a moment. “I think, mayhap, they mentioned heading inland.” After thinking about it a moment longer, he nodded. “Aye, east, I believe.”
When the king joined us soon after, causing the usual stir despite his casual attire, we filled him in on what we had learned. Naturally, I took the opportunity to point out Gustav’s curious lapse. “I thought Gustav had already spoken with the innkeeper, or we would have had this information sooner. More often than not, ‘tis the innkeeper or serving wenches who know the goings on in a town.”
“It must have slipped my mind,” Gustav muttered when Alexander arched an eyebrow at him. “’Tis clearly not a village influenced by these rumors, so ‘tis neither here nor there, aye?”
“Yet finding these Scots is,” the king reminded, thinking about what we had learned. “We will head in that direction on the morrow instead of continuing north and see if we might catch up with these men.”
In agreement, we sat down to eat soon after, and spent the evening how we usually did in these villages. Mingling with the townsfolk so that Astrid could ensure all would remain well. I hadn’t minded it in the least when I was the only one watching over her, but now with Gustav constantly hovering around her, I found it quite the opposite. He had a lecherous feel about him when he eyed her more often than not.
And, of course, far too much appreciation.
She was a sight to behold, though, never more beautiful in her white fur with her hair braided back. As with all of these towns, she first appeared very much a shield-maiden, then, usually the night before we left, she transitioned to wearing a linen dress with a plaid, appearing more Scottish. A means to show them both sides of her.
Whether Gustav would admit it or not, he clearly liked nights like this best when she looked like our countrymen. He tended to flirt more with her, making it apparent to all, including the king, that he desired her.
“She is quite something, aye?” Alexander said to me at one point, glancing from Astrid and Gustav to me, a tad knowingly if I didn’t know better. Much like he had back at my father’s castle, speaking to his being more observant than most. “As you know, I am quite fond of your da, but I cannae quite see him suiting her.”
Doing my best to keep a neutral expression, I perked my eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”
“I couldnae say, other than she’s much different than your late mother, and I recall how well matched the two of them were.” He looked at Astrid before his gaze flickered over Gustavand landed on me again. “I would think Gustav or even you, mayhap, might be a better fit.”
“Me?” I exclaimed, sure to sound a touch put off by that, given our situation. “Surely not, my liege.”
“Whyever not?” he wondered softly, more astute than I’d anticipated. “I see the way you two look at each other. Hell, the way you are looking at her at this verra moment.” He glanced from Gustav to me. “Better still, the way you look at Gustav when he flirts with her.”
“Och, nay,” I denied, taking a sip of whisky and waving it away, walking a dangerous line. “She is to marry Da.”
“With my permission,” Alexander reminded, eyeing me for an uncomfortable moment before tilting his head in question. “Would you marry her, Declan? If ‘twas my wish, of course.”
Bloody hell.Was this a test? Had he found out about us somehow and wanted to see how honest I would be?
Continuing to sip my whisky, I did my best to mask my guilt over lying to him and remain calm, answering as any loyal subject would. “Though ‘twould be odd all things considered, if ‘twas your wish, I would, my king.” I bunched my brow at him in confusion and asked what made sense. “But why would it be your wish?”
“Because you travel and work well with her, and I will need more of that as time goes on,” he divulged. “Your castle is also situated strategically and has ample space for her to help train our warriors. And whilst ‘tis nothing any son wishes to speak of when it comes to their father, ‘twould be best if she were married to a young, robust chieftain with many years ahead of him after his da passes.” He shook his head and winced. “’Twould be awkward indeed marrying her after your father already had her, would it not?”
“Verra,” I conceded, both surprised and relieved by his reasoning, feeling more certain by the moment that he didn’t know the truth after all. Unable to help myself, I glanced at Gustav, who seemed unable to take his gaze off of Astrid as she spoke her native tongue to an older Norse couple. “And why Gustav?”
