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It’s delicious. Savory, with a hint of sweetness, but I don’t even mind. Each of my tastebuds are grateful and over-eager as I continue tearing chunks off with my fingers, refusing to eat the leg in the same manner as my brutish husband, no matter how tempting it is.
We walk as we eat, and I look up to find we’ve wandered into a section with games and contests. Men and women alike arm wrestle, shoot bows, or throw things at targets.
“Care to give it a try?” Einar’s wry grin is a challenge.
“After you,” I allow. “Didn’t you say that axe was for more than show?”
I tell myself I am using the opportunity to size him up, to learn more about him. Khijha nudges me with her head, and I wonder what she senses from me in that moment or if she’s only asking for food.
I decide it’s the latter and slip her the giant bone with some meat still on it.
The king’s smug smile is his only reply before he makes a beeline for the axe throwing booth. I follow, and of course, Khijha trails along, her tail straight, a proud gleam in her eye while she carries the snowbird leg. Even if people would have crowded their king, they give the chalyx a wide berth.
“His Majesty cares to try his luck with the axes?” The woman who mans the booth announces this loudly while she sets down three axes in front of him.
Despite the cold, the cloak she wears over her tight-fitting dress opens to reveal a triangle of cleavage. Her smile is brash, and she eyes the mammoth of a man standing next to me without an ounce of shame.
I can’t help but glance at Einar to see if he is returning her look, but he has eyes only for the axes. Breath whooshes out of me in what is most definitely not relief, just in time to see a massive crowd gathering around us.
Gunnar and Helga ensure they keep their distance, though the mood seems to be good-spirited. Still, I place a hand on Khijhana’s head to keep myself from being overwhelmed by the boxed-in feeling.
Einar’s face, however, is pure excitement, his eyes practically lighting up when he meets mine.
“It’s not luck if you’ve got the skill,” he counters loudly to the crowd, but his eyes don’t leave mine.
The people laugh and cheer, and the king’s grin is broader than I’ve ever seen it. He throws the first axe, and it sinks squarely in the middle circle of the target.
The crowd roars, and the woman gives a throaty laugh.
“Anyone can do it once, My King, but you’ve got two more!” She is clearly enjoying the show she puts on for the onlookers, and the king takes it in stride.
“Fair enough, my good woman.” He picks up the second axe and brings it over his head.
This one, he throws with a flourish that almost makes me laugh. The game-master isn’t the only one playing to the crowd. I wonder if I will ever be that comfortable with so much attention on me.
Another cheer goes up when the axe meets its target. The king looks at me, and I give him a begrudging applause, though I can’t help the smirk tugging at my lips.
Finally, he reaches for the third axe. He turns to face his adoring fans before he throws this one.
“If I win this one, what shall I claim as my reward?”
Suggestions are thrown out from ale to eiswein, trinkets, and more than a few lewd ones. The king listens and laughs before pointing with the axe toward the side of the crowd. I blanch, knowing full well what comment was just called from that direction.
“A kiss from the lady it is!” he roars.
He very pointedly does not look at me as he raises the axe over his head and turns to throw it in one fluid movement. Without even the barest of a second to aim, he hits the center solidly.
The onlookers shout ‘Huzzah!’ and laugh, but I curse internally. Wasn’t one public kiss enough for the man, for his people? My face is heated, from anger, obviously. I try to keep my expression neutral for the sake of our audience and likely fail.
He turns to look at me, his eyes shining with a mirth I don’t feel. Then abruptly, he sinks to one knee.
“Well, my lady?” he says to Khijhana, putting his cheek directly in her face.
She hesitates only a second before obliging him, dropping her bone to slide her rough tongue against his cheek before picking her treat up again.
Laughter breaks out among the crowd, and I marvel at this man who has never so much as given a genuine smile in my presence, entertaining half a festival’s worth of people with his antics.
It’s more than that, though. All day, Khijhana has received reverent glances, and terrified ones as well. Now, the people smile in her direction. With one calculated move, he has changed the way they look at both of us.
