Sophie Ealhmunding, a young woman enslaved and thrust into the world of the Vikings, quickly captures the attention of every man in Kattegat, especially the gaze of Ragnar Lothbrok, the king of Kattegat. Will she endure his cruelty, or will her rebe...
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SOPHIE HAD BEEN tasked with fetching a bucket of water for the Queen's chambers, so she made her way to the source to fill it. Along the way, a young man walked beside her and started speaking, but Sophie couldn't comprehend everything he said, nor did she want to.
She knew he was one of Ragnar's sons, and Helen had advised her to avoid them as much as possible, as they were not as benevolent as their father.
"Are you deaf?" the young man spoke in his native language, irritation clear in his voice before he blocked her path. Sophie couldn't help but wonder why everyone seemed intent on distracting her from her work, which she was desperately trying not to mess up.
"I asked you a question," he repeated, this time in a manner she understood but chose to pretend otherwise. In her mind, the less she spoke, the better chance she had of avoiding trouble.
Shaking her head in apparent confusion, she looked up at the tall Lothbrok son with piercing blue eyes that resembled his father's. She hoped her message had been conveyed. "You do not speak our language?" he chuckled, seeming to have read her thoughts. "Not even a little?" He asked as if he could sense her understanding. But Sophie simply stood there, maintaining her bewildered expression.
He reached for the heavy bucket she was still holding, causing her to recoil. He raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, but instead of allowing him to take the bucket, she moved past him.
Thankfully, he didn't follow her, and Sophie was grateful for the respite, knowing she was already late for Queen Aslaug, who was likely waiting for her bath.
When she entered the chambers, she was surprised to find King Ragnar there instead of the Queen. He was already seated in a half-filled circular bathtub, waiting for her. Sophie noticed him dismissing another servant and felt the urge to bolt from the room.
"You're late," he remarked with a sly smile. "Again."
Sophie didn't reply, placing the heavy bucket by the fireplace and avoiding his gaze.
"Why are you always late, Sophie?" he inquired, her name sounding peculiar on his tongue.
"Your son," Sophie replied softly. "He delayed me."
"Delayed you?" he asked, and when she remained silent, he prodded further. "And which son could that be?"
"I don't know," Sophie replied honestly. She had seen them often enough, all of Ragnar's sons, staring at her, but she wasn't quite certain who was who, except for Ivar, the crippled one, and the eldest, Björn.
She could see King Ragnar leaning forward in the tub as he placed his forearms on the edge while he studied her but she did not look at him as she pretended to be busy with tidying the area up. If just her father would see her serving those Pagans he would hunt them down one by one.
