Curse of Shadows and Thorns: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 1)
Curse of Shadows and Thorns: Chapter 5

Five. By the second day after my father’s announcement, five official bids for my hand were placed. Jarl being the only man I knew.

If I thought my stomach toiled at the first announcement, now it turned over like a violent wave. The only bright spot was I had seen little of Legion. Assessing the bids kept him busy enough. There were times he’d simply be there, though. A silent shadow, peeling back my skin without my permission to gauge what was inside.

I’d become a hostage in my own home.

Moments were slipping through my fingers like water in a sieve, and I was powerless to stop it.

Better to not think of it at all.

Outside I stood between Mavie and Siv, now officially named as my personal serfs who’d attend me as a married woman. They were free of their veils since I set the terms, and the veils were burned straightaway. Whenever bids closed, I would be allowed to take some serfs with me to my new home. It wasn’t a question who I asked to join me.

In the heat of the noon sun, the black wool of my dress clung to my skin like a new layer, but at my father’s command I was to accept a new gift from a potential match. Bjorn Svart, a wealthy shipping merchant who drank spiced red ale so much his teeth were forever stained. Svart didn’t want me for love, he wanted me to tend to his nine children since his wife died last turn.

Accepting anything from the man raised the hair on the back of my neck.

“His youngest is a pleasant child,” Mavie said at my back.

“Because the brat can’t speak yet,” Siv retorted. “The Svart boys are demons and have a love for toads. We’d all need to check our sheets by the hour.”

“At least he’s sending gifts,” Mavie said.

My hands started to sweat beneath the thin blue gloves hiding my fingers. I fiddled with the hem of one and didn’t join the conversation. Whatever the gift, it wasn’t worth taking vows with the man.

Too soon, one of our cabriolets entered the gates; a cloud of dust wrapped the wheels as it rambled down the drive. I took a deep breath and stepped off the last step.

Halvar pulled back on the reins, drawing the cab to a halt. How different he was as a serf than when he laughed and gambled at the game hall. The dark waves of his hair were covered by a brimmed cap, his clothes demure and black. But the blue fire still danced in his eyes when he faced me.

“Kvinna,” he greeted. Playful as the stable hand was, there were times I didn’t know if he cared much for me. Perhaps his distaste was for Timorans in general. Still, from Siv and Mavie’s reports, Halvar was kind and had chased off more than one thief from taking our mares.

“Halvar, I’m told you’ve brought something.”

The cab shifted as the passengers abandoned the bench beneath the cover. My shoulders slumped. Legion met my gaze, winked, then disembarked from the seat. I allowed myself to gawk at his handsomeness for half a breath, then promptly remembered my silent vow to dislike the man.

“All at once the day is made lovelier with you in it, Kvinna Elise,” Legion said.

I scoffed. “Careful Herr, I might mistake you for being earnest and fall all over myself from your flattery when I am to be chained to another soon enough.”

Mavie muffled a laugh behind her hand and Siv seemed ready to slit Legion from navel to nose should he try to retaliate for my disrespect. He didn’t. Truth told, he seemed delighted.

“I am fascinated by your sharp tongue, Kvinna. So unusual.”

“That’s Elise for you,” another voice said.

I beamed when a tall man made of lean muscles and dark stubble materialized from the opposite side of the cab.

“Mattis.” I hurried past Legion, stopping a pace away from my friend. “It’s been too long since we’ve spoken.”

“I know,” he said. “No one has laughed at one of my jokes in ages.”

“Because they’re not good,” Siv blurted out. She dipped her head as if recalling she was a serf and Legion Grey was present.

Mattis was undeterred and seemed wholly satisfied she’d spoken. A bit of desire gleamed in his eyes when he focused on her. “Lovely Siverie, the way you had tears in your eyes from laughter at our last encounter, I would humbly disagree.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my own amusement tapered when Siv balled her fists, jaw tight. The woman wanted to retort, but her status demanded she hold her tongue. Legion watched the exchange, amused, and I hated it. These were moments I treasured, when my friends—no matter their station—forgot I was a Kvinna and we laughed together. He wasn’t welcome.

Resting a hand on Mattis’s arm, I urged him to stand a few steps from Legion’s stare. “What brings you here?”

Mattis held out a wrapped box. “I come bearing gifts from Herr Svart, along with my congratulations. We all know how you have longed, and longed, and longed for this—” I swung a fist to hit his arm, which Mattis dodged with a laugh. “Perhaps I should offer condolences.”

I snatched the box from his hands, glaring. “I could demand your tongue be removed, you know.”

“Oh, please try. I yearn for a bit of excitement. But remember, Kvinna Elise, Siverie would miss my jokes.” Siv grumbled under her breath and turned away. Mattis used his chin to point at the box in my hands. “You going to open it?”

I tore into the waxy parchment to find a polished jewelry box. The gloves were troublesome, but in a few moments the paper fell away. Delicate purple blossoms wrapped around a golden dagger were painted on the lid. Plush velvet lined the inside. I traced the intricate lines of the blossoms, in awe. “Mattis, you made this?”

He grinned with pride. “I was told to create something that spoke of your qualities. I’m not sure Herr Svart knew any of your qualities to be more specific, so I took a few artistic liberties.”

“A dagger?” Legion’s deep voice spurred me from the moment.

“Seemed fitting. Kindness on the outside.” Mattis touched one of the blossoms, dragging his finger to the hilt of the dagger. “A warrior on the inside.”

There was a bit of satisfaction from being acknowledged as something more than an ornament. “Thank you, Mattis. I vow to forget who commissioned this and take it as a gift from a friend who actually knows me.”

“Herr Svart is a promising match,” Legion said.

I shot my annoyance in his direction. “Perhaps you should pursue him, Herr. I’m sure you two could make each other quite happy.”

Legion took several steps over the space between us, drawing Mattis to inch half in front of me. As a carpenter, Mattis did not have status, but bore the fire of an outspoken. He wouldn’t stand by if Legion retaliated.

But Legion still wore his amusement in his frustratingly attractive smirk. “You are determined to make these negotiations difficult, aren’t you Kvinna?”

“You mistake difficulty with having a voice, Herr Legion.”

“I don’t mind your voice,” he said. “But understand I must pick someone eventually. If you detest everyone, you have officially made my task difficult.”

“Apologies, but that is not my problem.” I turned to Mattis once more. “Thank you again. It’s lovely.”

Mattis cast wary eyes at Legion, but when the negotiator said nothing, he relaxed. “I have brought you one other thing. This one truly from me.” He dug into his pocket and removed a tattered leather-bound book. “Held my attention well into the night.

Delight sped through me. For most of our friendship, Mattis and I had exchanged books. Usually, the opposite of what the other found interesting; a kind of challenge to see who would refuse to read first.

“Love in Thorns,” I read from the faded title. “More Night Folk tales, I see.”

“Well, we all know your prejudice against the fae, so.”

I slugged Mattis in the arm, undignified and inappropriate. I hardly cared. “I am not prejudiced against fae. A healthy dose of reservation toward fury is not prejudiced. And don’t pretend you aren’t leery yourself.”

“I am not. If a fae tossed my mind into an illusion, I wouldn’t know any better. What’s to be leery about?”

“Shouldn’t talk about Night Folk,” Mavie muttered. “The earth speaks to them. They’ll know and call your bluff.”

Out of all of us, Mavie was the most superstitious. Mattis rolled his eyes and lowered his voice. “Says an Ettan, a people once ruled by Night Folk queens and kings.”

“Centuries ago,” Mavie snapped. “I can hear you, carpenter.”

All during the exchange I kept Legion in my sights. He watched with a bemused sort of expression. As if he didn’t understand any of it and expected this all at once. Most men of even half his station would demand serfs and lower merchants like Mattis to hold their tongues. They’d certainly find a crass Kvinna intolerable. Yet, he listened. He watched.

I had a sudden desire to know everything he thought.

“I should be getting back,” Mattis admitted. “I’ll expect to hear—no doubt—your numerous opinions on the book when we meet next.”

I waved as Halvar drove Mattis off the grounds, sensing Legion’s eyes pouring into the back of my head. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Join me inside.”

I let out a startled cry. Legion had been at least five paces away, then in a single heartbeat at my side. “By the hells, you move like a ghost.”

“I’ve been called a wraith more than once.” He flashed his white smile. “Will you join me inside?”

When had he gotten so close? If I adjusted a hairsbreadth, our shoulders would brush. My tongue swiped over the dryness of my bottom lip; my eyes danced between his. “I’m sure with so many formal offers, you have more to do than spend time with me.”

“Tor will handle the suitors today.” He paused, then brushed my braid off my shoulder, gently. His fingertips grazed my collarbone, sending a trill across my skin as Legion lowered his voice. “I wish to know you.”

I blinked as through a fog and nodded before I could think better of it. “As you say.” Bleeding hells, what was I saying?

Legion stepped back, grinning. “Lead the way, then. Wherever you’d like to go, I am at your service.”

Whatever spell he’d cast over me by such a meaningless touch faded, and a heady reluctance weighed down over my shoulders. I looked to Siv and Mavie for help, for some excuse.

“Oh, um, Bevan, he needed our help,” Mavie said.

My eyes widened. Traitor.

She nudged Siv in the ribs and Siv shoved right back. With a sigh, Mavie grabbed Siv’s elbow and went on in her betrayal. “We will find you . . . shortly, Kvinna.”

Then, they disappeared into the manor.

Silence grew too much, too suffocating. Legion cleared his throat, and I jolted as if the sound burned me. I was a bleeding fool, allowing him to have such an influence on me. But I couldn’t avoid him forever, either. The sooner we spoke the sooner he’d be out of my life.

The sooner I’d be matched.

I resisted the urge to groan. Even if I resented Legion Grey for his role in my marriage match, I could admit he was far better company than some pretentious suitor who had no interest in my thoughts. Including Jarl. A new ache tightened in my chest as frustration grew. I’d known most of my life one day this all would happen, I’d be given to another household to build an alliance, to strengthen loyalty to the crown through vows, only now the moment had arrived, I could not stop resisting every step of the way. Ettans and Night Folk were not the only prisoners in New Timoran.

“I await your first step,” Legion said lightly. “If you’re in need of suggestions, I am told your library is much cooler than here in the sun. Besides, you have your bawdy new book.”

“Bawdy? What do you mean by that?” I traced the faded letters of the title burned into the leather.

Legion chuckled. “Love in Thorns? It is a common adage for old Night Folk love spells. Quite seductive, actually. I heard it describes the outcomes in great erotic details.”

A proper lady might flush or turn away embarrassed. I was neither proper nor a lady. I was a second daughter who gambled in game halls and spent my days with a mouthy carpenter and opinionated serfs. I laughed and took on a new understanding for Mattis’s desire to leave this book. Doubtless he was still grinning over his joke.

Book tucked in my arm, limbs relaxed, I faced Legion. “Fine. If you must interrupt my day,” I said with a sigh, “then, follow me.”

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