Page 50 of Beholden
His fingers lingered against mine, and for an eternal, blissful second his beautiful eyes filled with something I could only describe as love. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a rigid wall. He released my hand and gave a curt nod, which I sensed was his farewell.
Chapter
17
Vilmar
I was readyto battle the berserker. Now that I’d secured Gabriella’s future, I could rest in the knowledge that if anything happened to me this night, she was my betrothed. The queen couldn’t touch her, and she’d find security in going to Scania. My family would take her in and provide for her out of loyalty to me. At least, I hoped they would.
My father and the Lagting would be disappointed in my rash decision to bind myself to Gabriella. Especially after they’d already begun negotiations with other countries in securing brides for each of us princes. But since I hadn’t been able to find a way to sneak her out of the grand hall, my pledge was the only way I could protect her.
The memory of her lips—the soft pressure of her response, eager and with an edge of passion—beckoned me to return and explore. But I pulled myself up and took another step away, not daring to look at her again, lest I find myself unable to stop from kissing her again.
Yearning for her would only make the fight against Grendel all the more distracting and difficult. I would fare better entering the battle focused on what I must do and not on what I might lose.
“Since the hour draws nigh to Midsummer’s Eve,” the queen’s brittle voice commanded attention, “we have our champion who will fight against Grendel, and we are grateful for his willingness to try to make up for the sins of his father before him.”
The silence was broken by excited chattering and clapping.
I bowed my head to the queen, unwilling to meet her gaze lest she see my contempt. If my father had once been able to capture and subdue all the other berserkers, surely the queen could have contained this one. But I would not say so, not at this moment. I couldn’t jeopardize my precarious status. If she realized I was aware of her secret, she would make certain I died one way or another.
“Prince Vilmar shall be fitted with the best armor and best weapons Warwick has to offer,” the queen declared.
This time her announcement was met with cheering.
“My knights will escort you to the weapons room, where you will have access to the arms of your choosing.” She nodded toward one of the guards standing in the main doorway.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I started toward the door.
“In the meantime,” her voice trailed me, “we shall proceed with our Choosing Ceremony.”
My steps faltered, and I halted. The crowd grew silent, tension returning to the room and my body. Stiffly, I faced the queen once more. “There is no need for the choosing tonight, as I will slay the beast.”
Her lips curved into a slight smile, one that seemed to mock me. “I was abundantly clear that no one has ever fought Grendel and lived to tell about it.”
“Tonight I shall do just that.”
“You are quite confident, Your Highness.” Her smile crept higher. “But I am sure all my subjects will agree that we cannot take any chances. If you fail and we have not provided Grendel with a maiden, he will continue his rage throughout the land and kill countless innocent people this night.”
A foreboding chill slithered through my body like a serpent waiting to strike.
Likely seeing the chill upon my features, the queen waved a hand as though to dismiss me. “You need not worry, my dear cousin. I shall honor your betrothal to Lady Haleigh, and she will be exempt from the choosing—”
“No,” Gabriella said from where she still stood underneath the balcony. “If a maiden must still be sacrificed to Grendel, then I offer myself.”
“Gabriella, no,” I said harshly. “You will not do this.”
“This is why I came—”
“No, I cannot allow it.”
Her gaze reached across the distance between us and pierced me. The plea in her eyes and the sorrow there told me this was what she’d been preparing for all along. “If a maiden must go tonight to face Grendel, then I would it be me.”
I could feel the queen watching our interaction. Had she anticipated this? Was that why she protested so little to our betrothal? Perhaps she’d learned of our connection in the mine pits. If she hadn’t yet, she’d soon figure out why we were familiar with one another. And once learning of my part in the slave revolt, she’d make sure I never left her country. Now that she’d garnered my promise in front of witnesses that Scania couldn’t hold Warwick responsible for my death, she’d discover some way to kill me and make it appear like an accident.
All the more reason I had to ensure that Gabriella left Warwick immediately. If she remained here alive, I had no doubt Queen Margery would use her to control me, for there was nothing I would not do for Gabriella, and the queen had certainly gleaned that by now.
“You must go,” I said more adamantly.
