Ho boy.
In the middle of this, for some reason, his jaw got hard (or, harder), his angry scowl returned, his eyes came back to mine for a slash before they turned back to the robed guy.
Well, that didn’t work.
The robed guy moved to the next statue and started jabbering at it.
I tried to figure out my next move but there wasn’t one. I was apparently a princess at my wedding to a man known as The Dragon, both my parents didn’t seem to like me much, I was standing in front of a huge church with a shitload of people in it and I was getting married in the longest, most boring ceremony in the history of time.
Not a single bit of that was good, even the princess part.
Okay, that wasn’t true. The princess part was good. So were my crown and my kickass clothes, not to mention my boots and underwear.
And I kinda liked the sleigh and wished I’d had a moment to enjoy the ride because I was guessing it would have been fun.
I held onto those thoughts as I kept my hand curled around his fist and then the robed guy moved onto the next statue.
Then, ever game (this was my adventure and I had to make the most of it, as I always did because that was what my parents taught me to do), I pulled in a breath and braved another step closer to my scary groom. I got so close, our arms brushed and his chin dipped back down so he could scowl at me.
“Hi,” I whispered, “me again. Your future wife?” I made a lame attempt at a joke.
He did not laugh. He did not even smile. He continued to scowl but said no words.
Maybe he didn’t have a sense of humor. Maybe he actually had no emotions at all except being bored and pissed.
“Uh…” I persevered, “what are those statues made of? That looks like marble. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s gorgeous.”
His head tipped slightly to the side but his eyes went alert.
Uh-oh!
Stupid!
Sjofn would totally know what those statues were made of and likely have seen them countless times before (unless, of course, she wasn’t religious).
Shit!
“Uh…” I mumbled quickly, “I mean, I should know, of course. And I’ve, uh… seen it before, obviously, I mean, seen those statues before just not um…” Shit! “That marble, uh… anywhere else. But I never thought to ask and um… well, we seem to have time to chat.”
He glared at me. Then he shook his head once and looked back at the robed guy.
Okay, that didn’t work either.
I sighed and I did this heavily.
Then a thought occurred to me. I squeezed my fingers on his fist to get his attention and his head turned and dipped to look at me again.
I fought the fear his scary-assed glower sent slithering through my belly, got up on my toes and leaned in slightly, whispering, “Do you speak my language?”
Again with the brows snapping together and narrowing of eyes so I dropped back down on my feet and leaned away an inch.
Then, his voice came quiet but deep and growling and just as scary as the rest of him, “Have you been at the drink?”
The bad news was, he thought I was tipsy. The good news was, he spoke English.
“No, I… don’t think so,” I answered, still whispering.
“If you do not know then you have and have had too much,” he returned, still growling quiet.