Besotted (The Fairest Maidens #3) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,50
believe anyone would fall for a dullard like you.”
“I can’t believe it either.” His eyes turned dreamy, almost comically so. “Indeed, I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“After Mikkel, of course.” I directed my smile toward my oldest brother. “Congratulations to you, brother. I hear you’re married as well.”
Mikkel gave a curt nod. “Yes, I married Princess Pearl, Queen Margery’s daughter.”
“And you are happy with the choice?”
“I’d have it no other way.” Though his expression remained unreadable, the adoration in his voice was unmistakable.
Only then did I notice the others in the room. The most important men of the town crowded around the periphery, Walter amongst them. A handful of other men sat at the long hearth table including Jorg and the other scribes assigned to my brothers—Ty and Gregor. A curly-red-haired man sat next to Ty, and a silver-haired man with silver teeth occupied the bench beside Gregor.
“I heard you wanted a meeting,” I remarked, “but I didn’t expect to have one so soon.”
Mikkel returned to the bench at the head of the table and waved to the seat next to him. “For the past couple of weeks, we’ve been in the area looking for you, since we learned this was where you’d settled. When the messenger arrived last night with the news that you were here in Birchwood, we came with haste.”
With so many of them searching, I was surprised they hadn’t stumbled across the secret cavern in the ravine. Or that they hadn’t spotted Jorg during his trek to Birchwood earlier in the week. At the same time, I was relieved. I wanted to keep Rory and her aunts away from prying eyes for as long as possible.
“You all but disappeared.” Vilmar took a place on the bench next to Ty and the redheaded man.
I lowered myself, careful not to put pressure on my thigh wound.
“Jorg refuses to expound on where you’ve been hiding.” Mikkel shot Jorg a look of censure.
My friend shrugged. “The tale is Kresten’s to tell, not mine.”
And what a jolly good tale it was. Though part of me wanted to share it all, another part urged caution. First, I needed to discover what my brothers wanted of me. Though I didn’t believe they meant me any harm as Jorg had hinted, I didn’t have just myself to think about anymore, not after making a promise to return to Rory.
“Not only did you disappear, but you’ve been injured again. Recently.” Mikkel’s attention shifted first to the long cut on my neck from Chester’s knife and then to the bruise on my face. Though I hadn’t looked at my reflection, a mere blink reminded me the flesh around my eye was swollen and black and blue.
“This is nothing.” I fingered the wound. “I got it in a brawl. ’Tis all.” A brawl that had nearly cost me my life. But I couldn’t say anything about Chester without also having to explain my love for Rory.
“Then the two of you have given up your Testing?” I threw out the question to distract them and take the focus off me.
All traces of humor left Vilmar’s face. “I completed close to two months of servitude in the mines, but yes, I left of my own volition.”
“And you made no plans to return and finish?”
“There was nothing to return to, not after I set all the slaves there free.” He glanced toward the curly-haired man, and I guessed him to be one of the slaves, now a loyal follower.
I shifted to Mikkel. “And you?”
He held himself as regally as always, his back straight and his chin lifted. “I left intending to return, but I have found another challenge that needs my attention first.”
“Then you are both relinquishing your claims to the throne?”
“When I left the mines,” Vilmar said with a nod, “I gladly gave up the throne. For it means I’ve also given up my pride and can live in the humility of being the slave of all.”
The engraving on Vilmar’s sword had read Be slave of all. “Then you are truly living your challenge.”
“Yes, but I must be honest in saying I believed I was relinquishing the kingship to Mikkel.”
My gut churned. Of course. No one had expected I’d be the one to become Scania’s next king. But why would they, when I’d never given them any reason to deem I was worthy or wanted it?
Mikkel took a swig of ale, then set down his mug. “When I left the Isle of Outcasts, I was unaware of Vilmar’s compromised Testing.”