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I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard not to wonder when I look around. The Jokithan women are, as a whole, nothing short of stunning. Strong, buxom bodies that move with a blend of confidence and grace. Was this what he always pictured himself with?
And, if so, what made him look outside his kingdom for a bride who was so very far from what he wanted?
I push the thought away. We’re getting along today, and that is rare enough that I hardly need to borrow problems. Besides, it shouldn’t make any difference to me.
It doesn’t. Of course, it doesn’t.
The smell of roasted nuts and meats wafts up from the center of the faire, beckoning me closer. I set out to explore with my guard following close behind.
People call out from the booths, showing me scarves or foods or cloaks. Some have simple jewelry, sweets, or even weapons. Others have gear for animals, artfully made leads for the dog sleds and the largest saddles I’ve ever seen.
I would probably be freezing even in my warm clothes, but there are raised bowls of crimson stones emitting waves of heat.
It’s overwhelming after being cooped up in the castle for so long, but I can imagine my sisters would love it. So, I smile in spite of myself, determined to enjoy this small moment for them.
I meander slowly through the shoppes, stopping a few times when something stands out. A tiny flame earring catches my eye. As I’m examining it, thinking to bring it home to Aika, one of Einar’s guards steps up, the one who had been trailing me.
“I am Gunnar, Lady Consort.” His voice is deeper than I was expecting, his teeth a sharp white contrast to his skin. “My sister is Helga.” He gestures to the woman with the king. “The king has sent funds for you.” The gesture is well-intended, but it makes me feel like...a kept woman.
My title of Consort doesn’t help that.
I take the coins, trying not to notice the scrutiny the booth teller sends my way. I can hardly blame her. Curiosity abounds for the foreign bride with her exotic pet as we stand out like a blood-red rose in the pristine snow.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Here.” Einar strolls toward us holding out what looks to be a large turkey leg. “It’s a snowbird. You promised Odger that you would try one. We wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would we?”
For how territorial he is in the man’s presence, he doesn't seem too concerned about my actually enjoying Odger’s company. I can’t help but mess with him a little.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Then what would we have to talk about the next time we play...chess?”
Einar’s eyes narrow, but he speaks with a deliberate casualness.
“You plan to play lots of games with him?” A loaded question, if ever I heard one.
“It’s what I live for.” I meet his eyes to let him see the sarcasm in mine.
Einar grunts, but I don’t think I mistake the relief in his eyes. He masks it by taking a bite of his own giant bird leg, while thrusting mine at me.
It’s so heavy, I nearly drop it.
“Why does everything in this place have to be so large? Aren’t there any normal-sized things, foods, or people here?”
He stares at me for a moment, laughter in his eyes.
“Most women aren’t disappointed in that sort of thing. It’s when things are too small that it’s a problem.”
I roll my eyes and look down, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks. Gunnar and the female guard laugh freely.
“It’s nice to know some things don’t change, no matter what kingdom you’re in. Men everywhere, king or not, are little more than debauched teenage boys.”
The king shrugs, not bothering to deny it.
“Eat your food,wife.” He smiles around another mouthful.
I can’t deny that the glazed poultry looks and smells divine. I pull a piece off with my fingers, as the warm juices drip down my hand. Khijha is practically drooling, licking the drops of grease from the snow near my feet.
When I finally pop the small bite into my mouth, my eyes practically roll to the back of my head.
