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Until I return. Miss me.
S.
She already did.
Chapter Sixteen
Sex in the Golden City ...
Drifa was sad to wave off the four hersirs two mornings later as their longships rode the waves away from the Golden City harbor. They had been her companions for months and had come to feel like brothers to her.
But she did not remain sad for long. Today she was going to witness a truly spectacular event ... an imperial Byzantine wedding. And Empress Theodora, whom she had spent an hour with yesterday in her separate wing of the palace, had invited her to have a special placement in the cathedral and at the wedding feast. Much to Ivar’s displeasure, by the by. If he had his way, she would stay put in her own palace quarters. He worried about her safety in the crowds that would come to witness the historic event.
But then Ivar worried about every location or happening. For example, yesterday he and Farle had stuck to her like burrs on the hem of a gunna when the head gardener of all the palace gardens, a Greek monk named Father Sylvester, gave her a tour that lasted all afternoon, thanks to the empress’s influence. While she’d been fascinated by the monk’s vast knowledge, her men had been bored nigh to tears, if their constant yawns were any indication. When she’d asked Ivar later if he didn’t find the tour interesting, he’d stared at her as if she were daft and compared it to watching his toenails grow.
“Not even the tamarisk grove?”
“Pfff! Not even the lotus petal fountains, or the statue garden, and I do not care what you say, that Greek senator’s manroot was the size of a radish.”
With a smile behind her hand, Drifa pretended affront. “Some men have no taste for the finer things in life.”
“The finest thing I could appreciate right now is a cool horn of mead.”
Drifa had been captivated with plants for most of her twenty-nine years and only now realized how much she did not know. The benefits of terracing and trellising. Ways to graft certain trees and cross-breed flowers. How to increase the number and quality of roses on one bush. Best times for pruning and thinning plants. Edible flower petals and roots. Even different types of manure, some very unusual, like camel dung.
But then, Drifa was able to teach Father Sylvester a few things, too, especially about the hardy plants that were able to grow in her snowy climate and ways to improve a species for survival.
The priest had given her permission to return and sketch in the gardens in the future, as long as she made arrangements ahead of time. They were, after all, mostly private oases in the busy palace. And he’d given her roots and cuttings and seeds to take back to Stoneheim with her. Those, on top of the iris roots Ianthe had already dug up for her, the flowers having quit blooming early, made a nice collection for Drifa, so far.
But now Drifa must ready herself for the wedding events. Ianthe had accompanied her to the harbor, along with her new guard, a burly Nubian eunuch named Joseph Samuel hired by Sidroc. Ianthe was coming back to the palace with her to help Drifa dress in her best finery. Ianthe herself had chosen not to attend. Having no special invitation, she would be crushed in the crowds.
“I noticed you spending some time with Alrek this morning before they set sail,” Drifa remarked as they walked along.
Ianthe blushed. “He is too young for me.”
That is a revealing answer if I ever heard one. “Oh? And if he were thirty and two, and you were twenty and two, then it would be all right?”
Ianthe shrugged. “It is the way of the world.”
“Pfff! I admire the way you live so independently, Ianthe. I’ve told you that before. You defy conventions in so many other ways.”
“That is different. The heart is not involved in a business. Well, not in the same way. I fear making a fool of myself.”
Don’t we all? “My friend, it is obvious that Alrek has developed an attachment for you. I’ve known him since he was only ten and single-handedly raising his two younger sisters and a brother. He was old for his years even then. And I can tell you this, I have ne’er seen him fall in love the way he appears to be with you.”
“So he says.” Ianthe was pleased, despite herself.
“It is to Alrek’s credit that he raised three fine siblings. His brother serves honorably in my father’s hird of soldiers, and his two sisters are of marrying age and free to choose, thanks to the dowries Alrek has amassed for them.”
“His honor was never in question. Nor his fine form,” Ianthe added mischievously.
“He is clumsy,” Drifa had to point out. After all, Ianthe lived in a confined space and worked with sharp objects in her jewelry making.
Ianthe appeared insulted by Drifa’s observation. “I think Alrek’s awkwardness is adorable.”
An adorable Viking? Every Norseman in Valhalla must be laughing in his ale. “You are considering his suit,” Drifa guessed, smiling at Alrek’s good fortune. Ianthe’s, too.
“We shall see. Alrek says he will return after his mission against the Saxon king.”
