Page 16 of Chosen

Chapter Eleven

Truth

I didn’t give a shit if we were married in five minutes or five years. I only said what I had said to provoke him. I wanted to see how he would react when challenged. Much to my surprise, he didn’t seem to be the hothead that his father was.

“He has a good heart, perhaps more sense than Sven, too,” Gisla mused, after Sig had taken his leave.

“We will get by.” I shrugged.

The idea of being Sig’s wife was one that had grown on me. I’d accepted it along with the many lessons and the title. Even so, it was still just an arrangement. A vow.

Lip service.

Soon, it would be real. I would have to answer to someone half my age. I couldn’t even imagine what that would be like.

“Come, let us see what the shopping district has to offer,” Gisla suggested.

She hailed for the stable boy and soon enough he brought out two mares. They were already saddled and brushed. He helped us onto them, and we were soon trotting off without a word to anyone. We rode the horses hard and fast through the square, sending people scattering as we came barreling down the lanes. I was terrified, but I loved every minute of it.

Gisla laughed like a mad woman when we finally slowed in front of a seamstress shop.

“That was great fun,” she announced, smoothing her hair back a bit.

My tailbone hurt, but my ass was otherwise numb when I found my feet beside her. The store had a large sign on the front that boasted of imported fabrics. Inside, a short woman with an elaborate, tall hairstyle met us as soon as we came through the door.

“I’m Dorthea, may I help you ladies?” she chimed.

“We need the finest wedding dress that coin can buy… by tonight.” Gisla informed her. “You will be rewarded handsomely when it is delivered to the palace.”

Dorthea curtsied on a gasp. “Yes, Highness.”

She brought out satin and some bolts of fabric that could be seen through. They were pretty, but they weren’t me. I wanted to be comfortable, not a spectacle. She brought out thick bundles from the east, but they were off-white, and I didn’t care for them either. Alas, she retrieved a bundle of lace. It was simple.

“Too plain,” Gisla dismissed.

I frowned. It was my favorite of all the selections we had seen so far.

“What if…” She picked up a thin, satiny material. It was powder-blue and light-feeling. “Can you line this with pearls?”

I was so grateful that the white fabrics were dismissed. I always thought I had to wear white. Relief washed my features. My mother used to love pearls. I remember how much she cherished a simple string that Ozias’s father had gifted her once after a raid. I nodded with approval.

“Pearls,” Dorthea repeated, looking a bit nervous. “That would be a little more difficul—”

Before she could finish her words, Gisla took out a bag and flung it toward her. Coins chimed against each other when Dorthea caught the heavy pouch in her hand.

“It will be done, Highness,” she gasped and promised.

I smiled triumphantly and followed Gisla outside. Rather than saddle up, she bumped my arm and pointed to a tavern across the street.

“Are you in a hurry to get back?” She grinned.

“No, and it’s been a long time since I had any good rum.”

She hugged me to her side, and we ambled across the street.

The building was tall and scruffy-looking on the outside. The inside wasn’t much better. It was dark and smelled of sweat and liquor. Gisla led us to the back. A few of the men scowled and cleared out when we sat down at a table near them.

“I’ll have some of your finest whiskey and a bottle of rum,” Gisla called, slapping the table.

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