Page 23 of Mastered By the Viking King

“Wanda!” he yelled into the storm. “Wanda!”

He slammed the door and marched out.

Tove studied the remnants of the feast spread out on a long table. The fires would need tending soon. Perhaps she should do it.

But before she had time to reach the first log, the door pulled open again, and Wanda appeared. Her hood was peppered with snowflakes and her hands buried in her cloak. “My queen.” She closed the door.

“Wanda, I should tend the flames.”

“No, that is not your job.” She pushed down her hood. “I will do that, but first…”

“First what?”

Wanda took Tove’s hands. Her skin was cool. “The king has requested something of me.”

Tove tipped her head. “He has?”

“Aye, he has told me to prepare you for bedding.”

“Bedding?”

“It is your wedding night. He wishes to claim you.”

“Oh…” A rush of nerves curled in her belly. Her thighs tensed, as did her buttocks, the skin there tingling.

“Sweet girl.” Wanda cupped her cheek. “You may be our queen, but you are also untouched. Am I right?”

Tove nodded. “I have been living alone with my mother. Of course I am untouched.”

“But not for much longer.” She took Tove’s hand. “Come this way, the king’s quarters are at the rear of the Great Hall. We have no need to venture outside to get to them.”

Tove followed behind her new maid, past a long trough that held glowing embers, a pot hanging over a fire, and a cask of mead. A chicken scratched in a corner, hunting for dropped morsels.

Wanda drew back a heavy, dark curtain.

Another big room was revealed. Furs lined the floor, another thin trough held smoldering logs, and candles shimmered, their flames dancing with the shadows on the timber walls.

Dominating the room was a big bed strewn with more furs. The huge wooden ends of the bed were carved with elaborate designs. To the right was a long piece of furniture crowded with treasures—brooches, amulets, pins, and silver coins.

“This is where you will live now,” Wanda said. “It is a grand room, don’t you think?”

“Aye, it is beautiful. Warm, too.”

“It is always warm for the king and queen.” She pointed behind Tove. “You can weave there, and when you have bairns of your own, they will sleep behind this curtain.” She revealed a small cubbyhole with a cot.

Tove suddenly remembered something. “The king’s sons. Where are they?”

“Since the first queen was banished, they have been with his sister, Helga.”

“I see.” She paused. “When will I meet them?”

“Soon. The king wants them to spend time with their new mother.”

“Me…”

“Aye, Tove, you.” She urged her to the bed. “Come, we do not want to keep King Njal waiting when he returns.”

“No, we don’t. I don’t.”

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