Page 183 of The Queens and the Kings
Relief weakened her tense shoulders. “Is His Glory gone?”
“Gone.”
Her jaw dropped. “Truly?”
Chuckling, he put a hand under her jaw and said, “Einar made certain of it. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Everything. But first.”
He pulled her into him, tilting her world off axis again. Her arms turned to jelly as his hot lips claimed hers. A kiss so gentle and searching belied Henrik’s simmering ferocity. There was a step beyond longing and care in his touch. Beyond this moment. Beyond fears.
All insecurities bled away as she sank into his warmth, the security of his arms.
He cared.
Oh, how hecared.
He chuckled as they reluctantly separated, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tightened his hold for several thrumming, long heartbeats. She felt utterly encompassed. Safe. Nothing in the world could break beyond Henrik.
Nothing at all.
Someone cleared their throat.
Britt’s eyes blew open, catching a glimpse of a gray-haired man before Henrik turned, pushing Britt behind him. As quickly, he relaxed, reached for her arm, and pulled her forward again.
An inquisitive man peered at her, head tilted to the side. There wasn’t much to him. Slight, but tall. A reedy man, hollowed out with age. Wrinkles lined his intelligent face.
“Ingemar, this is Britt.”
Ingemar’s brow rose. He smiled. “Britt. A pleasure.”
Britt inclined her head.
Ingemar’s curious gaze lingered for only a moment more before he said to Henrik, “We are fifteen minutes away from Arvid’s speech to the sailors, soldats, and those still on Stenberg. We have asked individuals to make copies of what he says, and then send it to their friends on the boats. We will, of course, have an official record,” he added, with some gentleness, “but we will not prevent others from telling.”
Britt’s heart swelled. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “So it’s over?”
Ingemar nodded.
“Now, the hard work begins. Come, both of you. Having you there at Arvid’s acceptance speech will be very important. Whether Henrik accepts the truth or not, he has been a very trusted figure in this resistance, and having him at Arvid’s side will allay the fears of many citizens.”
Chapter Fifty
HENRIK
Henrik had never felt sonervous in his life.
Britt, not seeming to notice the shredded state of his mind, hummed as she sat on a child’s warped wooden swing, peering out on the sea. Her hair tumbled onto her shoulders in recently-washed blonde locks, and the brightness of her smile illuminated Stenberg and the sky. Denerfen, chirruping from beneath the piles of hair, completed her usual Kapurnickkian flair.
For the first time in many, many years the halcyon freshness of a new start perfused the island. Henrik closed his eyes, drank it in with the sunshine.
A mainland ship approached, white sails open. Selma rode on it, which explained Britt’s rapt attention, her singular focus. The way she stared and waited with a curiosity that went bone deep. He’d never felt so terrified in his life.
He needn’t have bothered. The moment the first rowboat departed the ship with Selma onboard, Britt leaped off her swing and jogged for the wharf. He didn’t have a chance to call after her before she was on the dock, waving for Selma.
He barely made it to the dock when Selma rushed out, the first one to disembark, and rushed right into Britt’s welcoming arms. The two women embraced, laughing, as if they’d always known each other. He could only stand there, staring.
Was this real?
Britt and Selma, locked in an embrace, gabbling and laughing, hooked their arms around each other and spun, headed for him. Other sailors and islanders exited the rowboat, though far more warily. They glanced around, as if waiting for something to break or explode. He couldn’t blame their hesitation.
