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“Rune,” Hildegard said sharply, directing a look at her son.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I never said it would behonorable. But war is war.”
“He hasn’t declared war yet,” Elma said, imagining that if she stared hard enough, she might be able to make out Godwin’s individual tent in the scattered mass on the ice.
“That’s not entirely his call to make,” said Hildegard. “I hate to be reactionary, but the Rothen army sitting at my doorstep feels distinctly like an aggression.”
Elma sighed deeply, setting down her coffee. She turned to Rune and Hildegard. “It’s time.”
Rune nodded, a terse, businesslike dip of the chin. He was already in his assassin’s gear, sword at his waist. “I’ll meet you below,” he said, and took his leave.
Only the queens remained.
“Elma,” Hildegard said, her delicate brows furrowed, “Lord Godwin is as likely to gut you as he is to hug you. There’s no need to put yourself at risk. My men are more than capable of dispatching him, should that be your wish. Just… not Rune. He’s seen enough violence.”
It was painfully tempting. Elma bit her lip, knowing she couldn’t accept. Godwin might still have some explanation. Perhaps this was all a misunderstanding. And while Elma knew in her heart of hearts that it wasn’t, that her uncle had betrayed her, she couldn’t make the call to have him eliminated. Despite herself, she still loved him.
“Thank you, Hildegard,” Elma said, bowing her head in deference. “But it’s unnecessary. I’ll have Rune by my side.”
The other queen’s lips formed a tight line. “He has few weaknesses, my son. But you are one of them. I’d rather you both came back from this in one piece.”
Elma softened. “I will do all I can to ensure his safety.”
“I wish it were within your power alone,” said Hildegard. “Treachery opens up a world of dishonor to those who embrace it. Do not underestimate your uncle’s capacity for ruthlessness.”
While Elma knew that Hildegard spoke truthfully, the words caught bitterly at her, thorn-like. She understood, now, why treachery was such an abhorrent crime, punishable by death. It was a violation of the heart, and those subjected to it would bear the injury for a lifetime.
Thirty-Five
Rune took Elma aside at the stables, where they waited for their horses to be saddled. Pulling her into a shadowy corner, he wound his arms around her waist and held her against him as if he could save her from death.
“Elma,” he said, breath steaming in the cold air, “you don’t have to do this. The danger is unimaginable. You’d stand alone against an army. If they decide to end you…”
“I am the queen of Rothen,” she said, taking his face in her hands. For the first time since coming to Slödava, she felt as if Rune needed her reassurance more than she needed his. “I have made my choice.”
She pressed a slow, sweet kiss to his mouth, tasting the wound his teeth had made the night before. He leaned into her, like water forming against the shape of a shore. Pulling back, she studied his beloved face — his slightly drawn brows, downturned mouth, the gorgeous white scar that lanced jagged across his eye.
“And I won’t be alone,” she said.
Rune smiled wanly. “And you never will if I’ve anything to say about it.”
She wished he wouldn’t say such things, not if he didn’t mean them. Not if he couldn’t stand by them. But Elma pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the image of her uncle, hard-eyed and waiting, somewhere in that army on the ice.
The ride through Slödava, with Rune at her side, was interminable. The streets were packed with frightened city dwellers, gossipers, and soldiers. The energy seemed to vibrate with anxiety. The Rothen army had, at least according to Elma’s education, never come to Slödava in such force.
But perhaps that, too, had been a lie.
“What are you going to say to Godwin?” Rune asked as they approached the massive city gates. He glanced at her, hair blowing over his eyes.
“I don’t know,” she said.
I don’t know.
Rune smiled with encouragement, and she was glad that he was with her.
As they passed through the gates, Elma saw that the army had set up camp a significant distance from the walls. This meant that she and Rune had to ride alone across a wide stretch of ice, clear targets for any arrow that sought to find them. But no projectiles came streaking out of the sky, and when they were close enough to see the faces of individual men sitting around campfires, a lone rider came out to greet them.
At first, Elma didn’t recognize him.
