Page 20 of Chosen

Chapter Thirteen

Truth

I thought I was going to die before we made it home. I couldn’t sit straight. I kept leaning in the saddle. Thankfully, Siggy had ridden with me. Every now and then, he hefted my shoulders and sat me back up. Gisla was passed out, her head lay near her horse's neck, and she was all but hugging it. Sven had her reins; he kept the horse close to him and rode at a pace that wouldn’t jar his sister about. When we arrived at the stables, Sig slid off first. He reached up and plucked me from the saddle like I was little more than a child’s toy. I gasped and instinctively clung to him. Of course, in my drunken state it was probably over dramatic.

“Did you think I was going to throw you?” He scoffed and laughed.

“No, but your arms are so small I thought perhaps we would both break our backs,” I shot right back at him.

I was still somewhat inebriated. The rough ride had sobered me a little, but that didn’t mean I was up for being ridiculed.

“You have a sharp tongue; did anybody ever tell you that?” he asked, only for Sven to laugh at us.

I wanted to outwit the them and show them both how sharp I was. Something inside told me that no matter who I became or what I was, Sven would always see me as nothing more than a slave. He wouldn’t hesitate to manhandle me. I knew it, and I also knew that I was too intoxicated to defend myself against him and Siggy. So, I remained quiet and merely glared at my intended.

He took my arm and started roughly up the stairs.

“Ugh, let go of me. You have all the manners of a sauced sea merchant,” I hissed.

“She’s so cute when she’s in her cups.” Siggy snorted, giving his father a glance.

Sven grunted and laughed. I couldn’t help myself; I marched a step or two past him, as far as his grip on my arm would allow. Then I turned and threw a punch right at his jaw. Just like he’d done to the bastard back at the tavern. Of course, I was drunk, and he was a skilled warrior, so he dodged and I caught him in the ear with a solid blow.

“Damn it, woman!” He covered his ear and winced a bit.

Sven roared with laughter.

Cardinal Ant was watching the entire thing from the front door. He tipped his chin in a judgmental way. Enzo was beside him.

“Let’s get this over with,” Sig demanded.

The Cardinal shook his head, “Absolutely not. You cannot be united in holy matrimony if one of you is drunk. The vows would mean nothing. Intoxication alone is grounds for annulment. I won’t do it.”

Sig charged toward him, and Enzo had to put himself between the pair at the last minute.

“He is right,” Enzo quickly interjected. “It is against the law, Your Highness.”

Sig turned back toward me and Gisla like we’d betrayed him.

“You did this on purpose!” he spat at Gisla.

His eyes were wild, and I wasn’t sure what he would do next. He looked mad enough to draw his sword, but instead, he snatched me by the arm again and drug me toward my bedchambers.

“Sleep,” he demanded, shoving me inside.

“I don’t want to sleep!” I argued, just because he hadn’t asked nicely.

“I don’t really care what you want at this point, Renata. You will do as I say and come morning, we will be married. I’m done with this foolery.” His accent was thick, and it was clear there was little room for negotiation.

I reached out and grabbed the door handle before he could stop me and jerked the door shut between us. I didn’t want to see him. His eyes were full of accusation, and I didn’t like being accused of things I hadn’t done. It was Gisla’s idea to stop for a drink. I hadn’t realized we would be there that long or that the laws were written by weaklings.

Who didn’t make oaths when they were drunk?

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