Page 32 of Ties of Starlight

Idonea's expression shifted before she gave him that fake smile and said, “I should hope I'm nothing like her. We would be in trouble if I was.”

“His Majesty certainly would be, but really, I don't know where they're getting the idea from. I mean, you're a library apprentice, and you look so soft—I mean that as a compliment, my lady. I don't know how anyone could look at you and compare you to Inga. You don't look like you could hurt a fly, much less kill your own husband.”

Again, the same brief flicker appeared and was gone as Idonea let out a soft laugh that had a hollowness that rang in Nyrunn's bones. Again, nothing slipped through the bond. She was a fortress.

“It's the human blood. It makes me quite unassuming. Which works out well because I am unassuming. I care far too much about my duty as Gytha's chosen and our people to mess this up, even if I was capable of any violence.”

Her response was interesting, but there was something more important which prevented him from being a silent observer of the conversation. He remembered the tear tracks on her cheeks the night before.

“Who is gossiping about my wife?”

At his voice both Frode and Idonea startled, turning to look at him, like they'd forgotten about him even though he was between them.

“It's nothing, Your Majesty,” Idonea said, her voice softer than before, and she lowered her gaze to her hands. “It's just talk. People always talk.”

“Not about you. Not while I'm king,” Nyrunn snapped. He directed his glare at Frode. “I told you I will not tolerate any disrespect toward her, and that extends to you, even inadvertently. You will put a stop to such talk any time it occurs.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Frode said, ducking his head.

The matter was far from complete, but he could devise a permanent plan later when Frode had more information. Nyrunn sat back in his saddle when he was shocked bywhat he saw out of the corner of his eye and felt a distant hot flare on the other side of Idonea’s wall.

Idonea, who a moment ago had withdrawn into a shell, was now glaring at him. Had that been… fury?

He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

And upon being caught, she just looked back down and said, “Nothing, Your Majesty.”

“If you want to say something, say it.”

She stared at her hands for a moment, hair partially obscuring her face, but several different emotions flickered in her eyes.

Then she looked back over at him, the words spilling out. “I just don't think that's necessary. If you punish them for saying something, it doesn't stop them from thinking it. And they'll just keep saying it when they think they won't be caught. It doesn’t matter. They're just words.”

Words that had reduced her to tears the night before.

“It matters to me.” He held her gaze, trying to impart the sincerity of his words to her thick skull. “You will be afforded the same respect they owe me. I may not be able to stop vicious, unfounded, vile thoughts, but I can protect you from hearing them. Just because they think it doesn't mean I will let them plant those thoughts in your head.”

He could feel Olaug’s letter in his pocket. He should burn it. He should. He couldn’t risk Idonea ever discovering it and believing those vile words.

But Idonea didn’t back down. Her knuckles whitened as she sat up straighter. “Your Majesty, there is no cruel thought anyone could voice that I have not already heard or has not already been living in my own head. Your efforts are in vain.”

Nyrunn stared at her, letting the sound of their horses’ breathing and hooves hitting the dirt fill the air.

He doubted that.

“We shall see.” Nyrunn still would not break her gaze. “You are my wife. Protecting you is a responsibility I do not take lightly.”

Idonea looked down again, biting the inside of her cheek like she was quite physically holding words back.

Frode quickly launched into a new topic, forcing distance from the old, probably out of fear that Nyrunn would keep making things worse. Even though the things he was saying should only improve his relationship with Idonea.

That evening, he took care to observe her more. There were two questions he needed answered.

One, was there any hope?

Specifically, would she always hate him? Could he ever show her that he wasn't the cruel king she believed him to be? Would she ever forgive him for the crime of not being Olaug? For marrying her?

Two, what was she hiding?

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