Page 33 of Edge of the Wild

“Leif?”

He smiled when she approached, but his brow did not clear. He dropped the leather flap of a saddlebag and turned to face her fully, one hand resting on his horse’s shoulder. “Bit cold for a morning walk.”

He didn’t expect me, she thought, a little saddened that she’d done so poor a job in creating expectations. “I came to wish you and Ollie safe travels.”

“Oh. Well. That was kind of you.”

As they’d sat vigil over Rune, worry had pulled down his defenses; had beaten down his usual, stiff veneer of manners, but that shield was back in full-force now. Forget stiff manners: he was actively guarded.

She took a breath. “Leif–”

“Tessa–”

They both halted.

A small grin plucked at his mouth. “You go ahead.”

“No. You first.”

He nodded, chest lifting with his next inhale. “I wanted to say that I know we don’t have a real marriage contract yet. Whatever’s been said, nothing’s official.”

“Leif.”

“I won’t hold you to anything, is what I’m saying. When I return, if you still want to pursue an engagement, then we will. But while I’m gone…” He didn’t finish, and she was more than a little ashamed of the way her thoughts dashed straight to Rune.

It was if he knew, the way his smile widened, his face all the sadder for it. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“But I will. That’s why I’m here. We’re to be married.”

He nodded. “And we will be, if you still want us to be. When I return.” He leaned down – her heart fluttering at the thought – and kissed her. On the cheek. Only a quick brush. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Yes, of course.” Her eyes were stinging, stupidly, and she blinked the threat of tears away.I’m a failure, she thought. Unappealing to the king for whom she’d been intended, unable to love Leif in the way that she should, in the way that he deserved.

“Will you look out for Mother and Rune?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

He touched her cheek, briefly, with gloved fingertips, and then stepped back with a last, bittersweet smile, and swung lightly up into the saddle.

I’m sorry, Tessa wanted to say. And then she wanted to laugh, because, of the two of them, Amelia had always been the Drake sister who struggled to do as told; who bucked beneath the weight of expectation.Perhaps, Tessa thought,there is more of my sister in me than I thought.

~*~

Oliver’s mount was the same one he’d had on the night they’d gone hunting for Tessa and the boys in the dark. The large, heavy-bodied draft cross rolled one eye toward him, skeptical. Laden with saddlebags, bridle chased with silver, the beast had the look of a living war machine about him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Oliver muttered. “I’m lighter than some you could be carrying.”

“Want a boost?” Magnus asked, over his shoulder.

“No.” Oliver sighed as he glanced across the ever-more-crowded stable yard; lords were mounting in greater numbers, their horses all bearing silver tack and caparisons bearing each family’s heraldry.

Oliver’s horse bore a stag on one side and a wolf on their other, stitched with silver thread on a crimson background. The king’s arms.

“No,” he repeated, reaching for the pommel and just managing to hook a toe in the stirrup. “If I’m going to prove myself a worthy choice, I might as well start now.” He swung aboard with only a little flailing, cheeks heating as he gathered his reins, afterward.

Magnus chuckled. “Right you are.” And went off to his own horse.

Leif maneuvered his horse in closer, and swung around so he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Oliver.

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