Page 12 of Soul of Fire

“Step aside, Edvard,” my father commanded as he drained the contents of his tankard. “Let me get a proper look at my erstwhile son.”

Edvard glanced in the direction the woman had fled and bowed curtly, his eyes adopting a sheen of fury as he followed her from the hall.

One ofhismistresses then. I clenched my jaw, sending up a prayer to the Hearthmother for the poor woman’s safety.

“I half believed you would ignore my summons.” The king’s gaze slid from me to the hand locked with Eisa’s. Her skin had turned icy in my grasp. “This is the thrall woman you murdered my loyal dragehersker for, then?”

The word hit me like a hammer.Thrall.To reduce my mate to that word—the old name for slaves—was an insult to everything I stood for. To the girl whose death still haunted these stones.

Eisa’s face paled, and I felt her trying to soothe the jagged, raging parts of me, even as her own heart thundered in her chest.

“She is my mate.” I struggled to contain Baldur’s fury and keep my impassive mask in place. “You will address her as such.”

“She is nothing more than your stolen whore, if Einar was to be believed.”

Baldur’s eyes burned silver through mine. Several servants and the jarls nearest to us gasped, stepping back toward the walls. The flicker of unease in my father’s eyes was more satisfying than I cared to admit.

“I will claim her as my wife before a priestess this very second, if that is what it takes for you to give her the respect she deserves.” I heard Eisa’s breath catch. “But call her a whore or athrallagain, and no castle built by man will contain my dragon’s wrath.”

The hall was utterly silent for a heartbeat. And then my father’s booming laugh broke the silence. “Einar was a fool to challenge you, my son.”

I blinked as my rage stuttered out. The endearment was so foreign to me that it was jarring.

My father wanted something. There was no other explanation for his nonchalance about Einar’s death, and I was certain that, whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good for me. Or likely anyone else.

I flicked my gaze to my mother, whose eyes widened almost imperceptibly in warning as she met mine.

“You may keep your prize.” My father’s waved his hand dismissively at us. “And I suppose I shall need to appoint a new dragehersker in Einar’s place.”

“I claim the right to the title.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Eisa raised a brow at me.I thought you didn’t want to be dragehersker?

I shrugged.I don’t. But I’d rather take orders from a fucking jötnar than anyone my father chooses.

It’s about time,Baldur drawled in amusement.

“Excuse me?” My father’s expression was unreadable as he regarded me.

“Baldur is Drakonungr,” I continued, drawing strength from his encouraging nudge against my mind. “The drage will follow him without question, and the Book of Chaos will confirm my claim.”

I didn’t say that it would be Idunn and Eisa the dragons would actually be following. Even the Book of Chaos was not immune to the misogyny of weak men.

My father drummed his fingers against the arm of his throne, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as the gathered jarls watched silently. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, his subtle smile telling me he had won a game I hadn’t realized I was playing.

“Very well.” My stomach swooped in surprise. “I will need my skalds to consult the Book, of course.” He stood, snapping his fingers to summon his steward, who had the beaked nose and beady eyes of an elderly pigeon. “The Althing meets in several days. I will have my decision by then.” His eyes gleamed. “You shall stay here in the meantime.”

I frowned. The jarls of each region met together at an Althing only when the king felt like calling them together. The last one had been when I was a boy, as my father despised the pageantry and bureaucracy of the jarldoms. Their power was mostly symbolic after the consolidation of Stalheim under the crown.

The fact that my father was calling one now meant he had plans that I doubted would align with my own.

I clenched my jaw, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake in bringing Eisa here. “We are needed back at Ironholm.”

“You are neededhere.“ The smile didn’t reach his eyes as he raised his tankard in salute. “We must celebrate, after all. We shall have a feastin five days’ time.”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

Baldur growled protectively as my father’s grin widened. “Your handfasting of course.” The King’s gaze raked over Eisa’s body in a way that made my blood boil in my veins. “To yourmate.”