It was a beautiful thing to have back, a treasure, the best gift I’d ever received.
For Frey, post-adela tea meant something more. He was the kind of man who was not afraid of showing gentleness and affection but he was also the kind of man who had things to do and he did them. But after our afternoon in his cabin, more often than not he wanted to do these things with me close.
Therefore, his last day aboard, as we stood behind the wheel on the bridge deck, his hands on the spiked handles, me in front of him, we sailed the emerald waters of the Green Sea, our eyes on the horizon. As we did, Frey often bent to speak to me, his mouth at my ear, or, if I had something to say, I turned to him, my mouth at his and we whispered to each other for hours.
It was magnificent, not what we said so much as how we did it.
And I’d learned why he received his salutes from men of fist to chin and from women of chin to neck. The fist to chin was the salute of The Drakkar, a manly salute. The chin to neck was the salute of The Frey, considered a feminine salute. These were his due, as if he was king, and if anyone caught his eye, they were obligated to give it to him.
I’d also learned that he didn’t get these salutes from the people of Houllebec because the first adela tree, the most sacred one in all of Lunwyn, was in the forest close to the village and thus why he had his hunting cabin there and often where he met with the elves. He was there regularly, if not often. Because of this, most of his men had cottages there. And he had long since communicated to the villagers that they did not have to salute. This was something he found tedious for if they saluted, he’d have to return a nod and he did not enjoy walking through the village or having a horn of ale at a pub and constantly needing to meet eyes and tip his chin.
I could totally see that. At the Winter Palace practically everyone bobbed a curtsy to me. I was cool with smiling and saying “hi” but those curtsies felt weird, seeing as I was not born a princess and did not grow up being entitled to them. And acknowledging required more effort than a smile or a passing “hello”. It didn’t actually require it, but it seemed to and I guessed (and shared this with Frey, who concurred) that it was the constant reminder of my responsibilities as princess and the fact that their show of respect was required, not earned, that made it so.
During our talk Frey had asked (and I’d answered) about what Princess Sjofn had shared with me in her letter. We’d also discussed why she did not relate the information that he was The Frey or The Drakkar or various other tidbits that would have been extremely helpful to know such as, say, someone had tried to assassinate her.
Although we discussed this (at length) neither of us came up with an answer and eventually I gently closed the conversation. This was because it was clear Sjofn was not Frey’s favorite person. It was not that he wasn’t pleased with the outcome of her play but because he was seriously displeased that in making it, she committed what was considered an act of treason against the realm and he was not a big fan of how and when she’d maneuvered my entry into their world.
Although it wasn’t for Sjofn, I took this as good news that Frey, Atticus and Aurora all considered Sjofn’s actions an act of treason. First, knowing this, she wouldn’t want to return (for the punishment for treason was hanging which, obviously, anyone would wish to avoid) and second, for this reason, Atticus and Aurora would not want her return. And if she faced that, what it would mean for Lunwyn as a whole for, if hung by the neck until dead, obviously, she could not bear a child who would sit on the throne and assure peace for the land but, instead, political maneuvering (already unpleasant, to say the least, what with daggers and poison involved) would careen out-of-control.
So I took this as good news (for me) because, with all of that, they all would be less likely to want me to go home and more likely to wish me to stay.
Discussing Sjofn led me to thinking (and sharing with Frey) that there were a number of questions and contradictions about her behavior. There were things she did that were thoughtless and selfish and others that were neither. I couldn’t help but think that Frey was wrong about her and this was because she had the devotion of all her maidservants. It was clear Sjofn didn’t think like Frey did about the different classes. They were not her maidservants, they were her friends, her confidants and she was theirs. And I couldn’t imagine my girls caring for a woman who did not deserve their emotion.
I also couldn’t imagine carrying the burden of Sjofn’s responsibility to her country which forced her to hide her sexuality, something innate and so crucial to not only who she was but her happiness.
I could not say I agreed with everything she did but I was not her. I’d never had to hide who I was so didn’t understand these feelings and how she had to be torn between happiness and duty. And not knowing, I could not make a judgment.
When I quietly shared this with Frey, he disagreed. It was clear he felt quite comfortable making a judgment and he did. I left him to his thoughts for, obviously, he was entitled to them.
But I couldn’t help but think, hopefully, in the end, both Sjofn and I would find ourselves high on Valentine’s line of happiness in our different adventures.
“I’m finished, milady,” Skylar called, my thoughts moved back into the room and I turned my head his way.
Then I smiled, uncurled from my corner and walked slowly to him. As I did, Skylar shrank slightly back in the big chair and didn’t quite meet my eyes, something he did normally but something I noticed intensified when he had completed his work and it was time for me to look over it. Therefore, when I arrived, I reached in carefully, took hold of the corner of the paper and moved slowly away, again giving him space.
Then my eyes scanned the paper. In the twenty questions, he’d crossed out two answers but in the end, got them right. In fact, he got all the answers right.
I took another small step back because I intended to speak to him and he seemed more comfortable with distance when I did.
“Not a single mistake, Skylar,” I said gently, “you’re learning this extremely quickly. Tomorrow, I’ll have to make them a bit more difficult.”
I had hoped he would blossom under the quiet praise but the mention of the questions becoming more difficult made a flash of fear fire in his eyes.
Therefore, I rushed to assure him, “Not that much more difficult, honey. We’ll take it slow. No worries.”
He bit his lip and nodded, looking no less worried.
I pulled in a breath. Frey had advised me not to give into my instinct to protect him by responding to his uneasiness and fear by releasing him from the cause, namely me. Frey had said that Skylar couldn’t get used to me if I let him scurry away but that I would need to be around for him actually to get used to me.
This was, of course, wise.
It was also really hard.
So instead of seeing that fear in his eyes, his teeth sinking into his lip anxiously and giving into my instinct of cutting our lesson short and letting him off the hook, I decided to move forward and work with him on his letters.
“All right, Skylar,” I said softly, taking a step toward him, “we’re going to move on. You’ve got the alphabet down pat so now we’ll work on putting it together to make some –”
I stopped speaking when the door opened suddenly.