Page 109 of The Sun He Buried

She wanted me.

It should have solved the problem. One look at the mask, the woman, the feeding, and every story she heard as a child should have taken care of the rest.

Instead she stayed.

I asked her to join us.

She should have shut the door.

Desire hit the bond instead, clean and hot enough to cut through Thora beneath my hands.

Then I sat across from her and proved the stories right myself.

Efficient.

“She came here with Baldr,” I say.

“I noticed him.”

“She is in his bed.”

“I heard the wall.”

I look at him.

“Everyone heard the wall.”

Lovely.

“Then explain which part remains unclear.”

Ketill folds his arms. “The part where any of that required cruelty.”

“He’s what she wants.”

“He is one thing she wants.”

“A useful distinction.”

“She remains a person when she climbs into his bed.”

The ledger waits beyond my reach.

I don’t ask for it again.

“Baldr can give her everything she expects,” I say.

“Warm rooms. Cut meat. His hand under the table.”

I stare at him.

“She spoke at dinner.”

“You listened from upstairs.”

“The floor is thin.”

“Of course.” Ketill’s amusement has returned. He’s enjoying this now, which proves his concern has limits.