Page 31 of Enamored
“If you would, then do not let anything stop you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he took a step back. “You will pick your betrothed today. You must focus on that.”
The impending task loomed like a mountain I couldn’t climb. Nor did I want to. However, I understood the law, that I must choose a Norvegian nobleman so I could officially be named as the king’s successor. Such a move ensured the security of the throne and solidified the future of the country, especially with King Canute making his claims for me and the monarchy.
“Maxim, I do not know what to do, who to choose. How can I do this?”
He studied my face, his dark lashes shielding his eyes. He opened his mouth as though he would answer me, but after a second, he clamped his lips together.
If only he could offer me a solution, one I liked. But that was wishful thinking. The truth was, I would have to announce my choice tonight after the feast. I would pray that by then I knew whom to marry.
Maxim
Bright sunlight hit my face, awakening me.
With a half groan, I shifted on my bed and tugged the coverlet over my eyes. I’d gone to bed after watching the sunrise with Elinor, but with so scant an amount of slumber in the past forty-eight hours, my body wasn’t ready to wake up.
“The princess is on her way to your chamber even as we speak.” Rasmus spoke calmly nearby.
The princess was coming to my room? I lowered the sheet and cracked open an eye.
Rasmus stood in his black robe and long black hat, his expression placid but his eyes radiating an uncharacteristic energy. “This afternoon you must take her to the Stavekirche, show her the sword that has been returned there, and explain how it can help her in choosing the next king.”
“Your Excellency.” A strange foreboding prodded me. I sat up, letting the coverlet fall away altogether. The shutters had been thrown wide open, letting in the light. By the slant, I could see that I’d slept all morn and the early afternoon hour was upon us.
At the end of my bed, Dag was setting out a clean set of garments I’d never seen before in preparation for my grooming. I didn’t need to ask to know Rasmus had brought them for me. As a short man with a hunchback, Dag’s head hung unusually low, his chin resting on his chest, his gaze perpetually fixed downward. Though he saw little of his surroundings and what was going on, he was keenly aware of more than most. Ten years my senior, he’d become a friend more than a servant.
Rasmus took a step closer to the bed, commanding my attention as he towered above me. “Tell her this is the Sages’ solution to her dilemma. Assure her the sword will only pick the worthiest king, that the weight of the decision can now be lifted from her shoulders.”
Would the sword or Rasmus make the decision? Once again, I feared it was the latter and that my cooperation with Rasmus would lead her astray.
“She wants your help. This is how you will give it to her.” Rasmus could read the indecision in my eyes. ’Twas why he’d awoken me so abruptly, so he might take me unaware.
“And if she doesn’t want to resign her fate to the sword?” Or to Rasmus?
“After your night with her, you’ve gained her trust. She’ll do as you suggest.” Just as the king trusted Rasmus and did as he suggested.
It was a form of manipulation. There was no other way to describe it. Before I could analyze my feelings about the tactic, the door to my chamber opened a crack, and one of Rasmus’s scribes spoke. “She’s entered the adjacent passageway.”
Rasmus crossed the room and exited in a matter of seconds, leaving me only the next clue in this riddle without any time to understand it better.
With an exasperated sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed the tunic Dag was holding out. “You should have awoken me the moment Rasmus entered.”
“I tried by opening the shutters.” Dag’s muffled reply was contrite.
“No matter—”
The door swung open, cutting me off. Rasmus’s scribe—still positioned outside my room—held it wide and bowed his head in the direction of the princess, now gliding into the room. She was already attired in a fresh gown, her hair back in a neatly coiled knot. Already I missed it hanging loose and wild.
I pushed up from the bed, not wanting her to know I’d just awoken.
As she moved past the scribe and caught sight of me, she stopped abruptly and released a soft gasp.
Confusion pressed over me, but only for an instant. When her eyes rounded and roved down my body, I followed her line of vision to find I was bare except for my linen breeches.
“Oh my.” Her words came out breathy. Although her cheeks didn’t redden with embarrassment, I could see it in her expression before she spun and faced the opposite direction, looking at the wall instead of me. If the scribe hadn’t already been closing the door, I had no doubt she would have run from the room.
I lifted the tunic dangling from my hand and positioned it in front of my chest. Too little effort, too late. Nonetheless, I didn’t want to make Elinor more uncomfortable than she already was.
