Page 15 of Mastered By the Viking King

“You will not return before the pass is blocked.”

She didn’t answer, partly because the last thing she wanted to do was disagree with the king, but also because she sincerely hoped she would get back to her mother.

The sooner King Njal picked Princess Hilda, the better.

He turned and walked away. He sat back on his throne, and again curled his hands over the ends of the arms. “I have made my decision.”

“King Njal,” Princess Hilda said, stepping forward with her hands in the air. “I am so thankful you have picked me to be your new queen. I will soon whip this crowd into shape. It’s clear from their round bellies and broken roofs that they eat too much—and don’t work enough. A hard hand is what you need, to make examples of a few.” She drew a slit around her throat. “Something I am not afraid to help you with.”

“Is that right?” He raised his eyebrows and pulled on the beads at the end of his beard.

“I may not be a brave shield maiden, but my skills in dealing with lazy, mead-swilling peasants will outshine any sword and…oh, get off!”

King Njal looked between the two stern Vikings who had grabbed Princess Hilda by the arms.

“Get off me. Get off.” She tried to yank herself free.

“As I was saying.” King Njal tapped his fingers on the chair. “I have made my decision—and it is to be Tove of Cativad.”

What in Odin’s name?

Tove’s mouth hung open. She hadn’t heard him right, surely. There was no way he’d chosen her over the beautiful princess.

“What?Her?A skinny crofter?” Princess Hilda shouted. “When you could have me? A princess! Have you lost your mind?”

“No, I have not lost my mind. I am of very sound mind,” King Njal said. “And I’m sure all the men here will agree that a wife who comes without the baggage of a husband and children is a very good start.” He paused and swung his angry gaze from Princes Hilda. “Also, one who has no wish to die makes for a long marriage, and”—he stood and pointed at Tove—“what could be more perfect than one who barely speaks?” He pulled his ear. “No earache, no moaning.” He laughed. “Perfect! The perfect wife.”

An eruption of laughter blasted through the Great Hall, every man and woman amused by the king’s words.

The perfect wife?

Tove blinked as she stared at him. How could he think that? He couldn’t be serious. He had to be saying all of this in jest.

The laughing changed to chanting, fast and merrily, the words, “Queen Tove. Queen Tove. Queen Tove. Queen Tove.”

They rang through her mind. She had the urge to turn and run, flee into the snowy darkness. She had to. If she stayed, she was destined to a life as this giant king’s wife.

She stepped back, adrenaline kicking in. It was flight time.

“Queen Tove. Queen Tove. Queen Tove.”

But she didn’t get far.

Hands and arms scooped her up and she was lifted from the floor toward King Njal.

She gasped as she was plonked down on the smaller of the two wooden thrones.

Wanda placed a heavy metal crown upon her head. “Queen Tove.” She kissed her cheeks. “I am here to serve you.”

Tove touched the cool crown and blinked rapidly.

Before her, a swarm of happy faces chanted and sang.

Princess Hilda was nowhere to be seen.

“You will make a good wife and queen.” King Njal grasped her hand and squeezed. “The seer told me about a poor woman from a valley in the north who would make my life richer.”

“I have no treasures, King Njal.”

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