Page 217 of The Sun He Buried

Eirik would hear.

Everyone would hear.

Baldr’s already been cut open in this Hall.

I can’t do it again.

So I smile. Badly.

“Nothing.”

Baldr studies my face.

He’s always known when I’m about to fall.

He doesn’t see this.

Or he sees it and needs one thing too badly to stop.

His hand comes to my cheek.

“Sól.”

I know what he’s asking.

I know what answer I should give.

His mouth touches mine.

Warm.

Careful for the first breath.

Then full.

Baldr kisses me in front of the long table, the mine clerks, Asta, Ketill, and his brother.

I put one hand against his chest.

It should become a fist in his shirt.

It doesn’t.

I stand inside his arms and wait for it to end.

One second.

Two.

Baldr’s mouth leaves mine.

Because Eirik’s hand has closed over his shoulder.

One pull.

Baldr’s no longer touching me.

The cup beside Ketill’s hand rolls onto its side.