Page 31 of Heart of the Wolf
“Astrid. Tell me,” she demanded, blocking their progress. “I’ve never seen you that upset.”
“Styrr is a pathetic boy who is jealous of Úlfr. Always been.” Air puffed past Astrid’s lips with a slow breath. “He said my brother can dress you up in pretty things all he wants, but you’re still a hora. And you would be better suited as his thrall, tending his pigs, than as our Konungr’s kona.”
Heat tingled in her fingertips, but the words did not sting like Styrr hoped. Instead, they hardened her. Not everyone wanted her here. That was as true here as it was anywhere. Even in the place where she was born, many found her presence bothersome.
“I’m guessing hora is not something I want to be called.”
Astrid snorted before her shoulders sagged.
“Styrr is among those who does not believe Leif is worthy of being Konungr.”
“Why?”
“Some preferred a time when the clans were disjointed, allowed to spill blood and take thralls. Leif ended that practice. Some believe it makes us weak.”
“There are others, besides Styrr?”
“Yes,” Astrid said. “Styrr is the most vocal here, but there are others scattered throughout the outlying villages. Leif lets Styrr live out of pity because he defeated Styrr’s father for control of the clans.”
Brielle’s eyes widened, her heart falling into her stomach.
“When my father died,” Astrid said, her breath catching. “It wasn’t guaranteed that Leif would become Konungr. Only the strongest rule. Blood means nothing if you are weak. Styrr’s father challenged Leif. He did not survive.”
“So, Styrr is angry? Holds Leif responsible for his father’s death.”
“Yes and no. It is our way. Even as a boy, Styrr was entitled. He was jealous of Leif as the son of the Konungr, finding any reason for him not to be fit to rule. You being his kona is just another excuse.”
“Will you tell me now what kona means?”
A flash of pink colored the tops of Astrid’s cheeks as she sucked on her lower lip. Voices around them grew louder as small children chased each other.
“Sometimes, it means woman,” she paused, reluctantly continuing. “Others. Wife.”
“Wife,” Brielle said, tasting the sound of it on her tongue. “People think Leif and I have married?”
“No. Not formally. Anyone can see it, Brielle. You and Leif are bound by soul and stars. Will you deny it to me? To your sister.”
Brielle had been an only child growing up. After spending much time alone, she often dreamed about what it would be like to have an older brother to protect her or a sister to guide her. Warmth swam in her belly, filling her with a good feeling until Styrr’s outburst was forgotten.
Clouds thickened overhead, flakes of snow falling and melting when they hit the ground.
“I won’t deny it,” Brielle said, the snow cold on her lashes.
“Good. I’ll take you home now. We can eat Leif’s berry stores. I know where he hides them.”
***
The sun had long set when Leif arrived home. The exhaustion of the previous weeks was evident in the lines of his face. Dark smudges grew under his eyes, getting worse with each passing day.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, his coarse stubble dragging along her palm.
His scarred hand covered her unblemished one, holding it in place. He hummed, closing his eyes. The weight of his face pushed into her hand, a slow breath falling from his cracked lips.
“My burdens never cease, hjartað mitt.”
“Maybe I can help carry them.”
“I want to show you something.”
