Wildest Dreams by Kristen Ashley
Hmm.
“And a woman in Sudvic,” he went on. “A widow who I visited frequently when I was in the city and this acquaintance lasted some time. She introduced it in an attempt to get me to feel more about what we shared than was there. But if it isn’t there, you can’t make it be there. Her attempt backfired for she exposed how she felt about me, feelings I knew I couldn’t return. I came to understand it was unfair to give her hope by continuing our liaison and shortly after, I stopped visiting her.” His arms gave me another squeeze and he explained, “Adele rules passion but she holds no sway over love.”
I was pleased he was honest and trusted me without hesitation with stories of his past. That felt nice and said a lot of good things about him.
But at his mention of love, I held my breath hoping he wouldn’t notice I was holding my breath and also hoping that maybe he was about to share something so I could share something, both of which were crucially important.
I quietly let my breath out when he didn’t.
I hid my disappointment with another question. “So the Lunwynians don’t actually have a goddess of love, just passion and motherhood?”
“For the ancients, when the dragons flew freely, they did,” Frey answered and he gave me another squeeze and whispered, “Her name was Sjofn.”
I held my breath again and after awhile let it out when he said no more.
Then I shared, “My parents named me after a Norse goddess of love. She was an ancient goddess too. They did this because I was born with my hair. They thought it looked like snow. There’s a lot of snow in Scandinavia so that’s why they decided on that. They were going to name me Tabitha.”
His body shook with a brief chuckle before he stated, “You are not a Tabitha.”
No, this was true.
“It’s spelled differently,” I informed him. “No one would get it the way it was spelled and they didn’t want people to mess it up so they spelled it S… e… o…a… f… i… n.”
He pressed closer to me, indicating, like he always did in some sweet, gentle way when I shared something he liked learning, that he liked learning the spelling of my name before he muttered, “This was probably wise.”
“They were very wise,” I concurred then I said as if to myself, “I wonder if it’s the same goddess in both worlds.”
“This, my wee one, we will probably never know.”
Probably not.
“Though,” Frey went on, “I find, if you pay attention, there are curious links to your world and mine. For instance, the Aurora of this world could clearly be your mother in both.”
This was also true, I’d noticed that too.
I sighed. Then I muttered, “I wonder what the you of my world is like.”
His arms got tight and he said gently but firmly, “This, my Finnie, you will definitely never know.”
I had to admit, his firm response was a tad surprising but the words he said were undoubtedly true.
I brought the conversation around full circle and said softly, “You’re hungry.”
His arms relaxed and he murmured, “Indeed.”
“One of us should rustle up some food and since I haven’t decided how to get Skylar not to be terrified of me, that person should be you.”
“Indeed,” he repeated, again on a murmur but this one held humor.
“We need to eat and then we need to talk about Skylar,” I said softly.
Frey sighed before he murmured, “I had wondered when you’d get to that.”
My head tilted into the pillow. “Get to what?”
“You have been very patient, wife, but I knew eventually you would make your play to win Skylar. I see your face when you note someone is troubled. Atticus is an example, you felt his disappointment keenly, allowing it to settle in your heart, determined to do something about it. It is almost as if you experience other’s discomfort as your own and cannot abide it. Naturally, you bring light into every situation with a smile, an understanding look or a laugh, helping others to be instantly comfortable when they’re in your presence and if you don’t find this reaction, you set about doing something about it.”
God, what a nice thing to say.
And, incidentally, yes, I was so totally in love with this man.
Then he finished, “But I fear Skylar will be a challenge, even for you.”
“You’ll help me,” I guessed.
“I will, my winter bride, but he was gravely mishandled and the way he was, those wounds run deep in very dark places even your light might not penetrate.”
“Can it hurt to try?” I asked.
“Absolutely not,” I answered.
Oh yeah. I loved my husband.
Therefore I melted into him and declared, “So tomorrow, Operation Skylar commences.”
His arms convulsed and he laughed straight out. Then he bent in to kiss my forehead.
He left his lips there when he murmured, “I’ll see about food.”
He kissed me again then slid away but he pulled the velvet and hides over me until I was cocooned in warmth. In the dark, I heard him dress and then he lit the lantern by the door before I watched him pass through it.
And it felt wrong, his leaving the bed after what we’d shared and me not whispering “I love you” and also Frey not returning the sentiment.
I pulled a pillow to my front and held on tight.
Then I tilted my head to look out the window at the back of the ship and sighed deeply.
Then I forced my thoughts to food and Skylar.
There would be a time to discuss what I wanted to discuss but that time wasn’t right before Frey intended to enter a country in secret, penetrate the prince’s lover’s home and steal a priceless, ancient relic.
But there would be a time and it would be the right time.
And I’d find it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
King to Princess
Five days later…
I sat curled in the corner of the bench in front of the window and studied Skylar, who looked very small sitting behind Frey’s desk.
The tip of Skylar’s tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on some addition and subtraction questions I’d written on a piece of paper.
He looked cute, very boyish and even younger than his eleven (I’d learned) years.
I was giving him distance and time so he could concentrate.
I was also trying not to think of my husband and his men off on their adventure, something I didn’t even try to talk Frey into allowing me to participate in. I was okay on a horse and now wasn’t a total amateur with a bow and knife but I’d had not that first lesson in being stealthy or participating in a raid and was in no way experienced enough with the limited skills I had to try them out on a mission as important as this.
So, three nights ago we set anchor and without delay, under the moonlight, the men lowered a boat into the water and rowed ashore.
Frey said the operation, if it went well, would take five or six days. One would be spent on travel, three or four would be spent on gathering updated intel and reconnaissance, then they’d do the deed (hopefully) and it would take a day to come back.
Then we were again away, back to Lunwyn so that Frey could meet with Ruben to hear his report on how his business went. And after that, Frey gave me the choice of seeing his lodge, his chalet, his fishing cottage, travelling to one of his foreign properties or returning to his hunting cabin.
I was still considering this choice and about every other minute I settled on a different location.
But I had time to think about it.
And hopefully I would have a lifetime to experience them all.
Before he left, Frey had decided how I would work through Skylar’s discomfort and I thought his decision was excellent.
That was for me to teach Skylar reading and math.
Kell had taken an interest in the boy but Kell, being Kell, had not devoted his days to these endeavors. Therefore, whenever the fan
I had learned in short order after Frey called Skylar to his cabin and told him he would begin tutorials with me that the fancy hadn’t struck Kell often. I also learned that if Skylar was uncomfortable around me normally, the thought of me teaching him anything terrified him and, even though he fought to hide it, especially in front of Frey, he didn’t succeed. Lastly, upon gently instigating some simple exercises, I found his skills were rudimentary at best. But at least we weren’t starting from the drawing board.
The first two tutorials began with Frey in attendance but he didn’t stay long, leaving the boy with me after Skylar’s attention was turned from his fear to his work. The ensuing days without Frey it took me longer to settle him in. But today he was settled and I was giving him space to work through his assignment without me hovering.
And I was thinking about Frey, where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe and lastly, the two days we shared before he and his men rowed away.
To say the adela tea heightened our awareness of each other was a vast understatement.
And it didn’t only succeed in this sexually but in every way.
In our short time together, I’d attuned to Frey’s moods, tones and learned his expressions. Now I read him easily just with a glance at the line of his frame, the set of his jaw or the look in his eye.
And there was something so superbly intimate about this it was hard to take in, the immense beauty of it, the intense feeling of connection with the man you loved. Not only being so attuned to Frey but knowing he was just that attuned to me. It did not make me feel exposed, it made me feel safe, protected, like I belonged somewhere and to someone and, since my parents died, throughout all my roaming, I had not felt either.
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.
Skylar’s eyes shot to it and so did mine.
And when they did, I saw Kell barging in.
He looked to Skylar at Frey’s desk then me then he announced in his gruff voice, “We got a problem.”
My heart skipped.
He didn’t look happy, as in, way more than his usual unhappy when he was looking at me so I was thinking this problem was a problem.
“Out, boy,” Kell barked at Skylar, Skylar jumped up and took off.
He closed the door behind him and Kell’s gaze came to me.
My eyes had not left him and my fingertips were on the desk, pressing in, seeking support hopefully without looking like I was.
“Frey?” I asked quietly and Kell’s bushy white brows shot together.
“What?” he barked.
“Frey,” I repeated, turning more fully to him and stiffening my spine. “Have you heard some word? Are Frey and the men all right?”
“Gods, woman, a’ course they are. Stealin’ a branch from a poof? Bloody hell,” he replied and I decided that I would not share my thoughts on him calling homosexuals “poofs” but I even if I wished to do so, I didn’t get the chance because Kell kept speaking. “We got riders at the shore. They hold Baldur banners.”