"You cannot mend what's broken with false promises and pretty words," I retort, my grip tightening on the dagger that rests at my hip. "You claim to be a man now; then prove it to me."
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Stjarna is a passionate Dane woman born during a ra...
I KNOW... I know. It's been a while 😖 Thank you for being so incredibly patient with me! I have had a few surgeries and am recovering well, and am so excited to get back into writing. I have a lot planned, so please bare with me!
This chapter is dedicated to WinxFairyDiya, who left me incredibly entertaining comments that inspired me to keep writing. I absolutely love getting feedback so thank you to everyone and anyone who has left comments or highlighted/voted/kudos'ed these chapters. I am dedicating all of my time and effort to you ❤️ Enjoy!
This is Sihtric giving me major side-eye for taking so long to upload WHOOPS sorry baby boy. Ilysm.
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Sihtric stares at me in utter disbelief, as if I have just spoken in tongues he cannot understand. "No."
"I have to do this Sihtric–" Besides, it wasn't like I was asking your permission.
"Stjarna, I'm sorry, but I think Sihtric is right."
My attention whirls toward Cwen, brows furrowing in frustration. My handmaiden barely gave me a moment to breathe before she snatched my elbow in the garden and dragged me back through them, where we have now wound up in Sihtric's bed chamber.
"You're agreeing with him?!" I snap, pointing a scarred finger toward my shield.
"The Lord of Tettenhall is a foul man with an even fouler mouth." Cwen argues gently. I can see the fear in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder what has happened to her to place it there. She nervously bites at the tips of her fingernails, eyes avoiding both me and my shield.
Sihtric cuts me a dry look, "You'll get along just fine."
I roll my eyes. "Of course he is foul, he's stuck in a marriage with Aelwyn."
Cwen studies the hearthlight flickering across the floor of the chamber, avoiding my narrow gaze entirely. "I guess that's true. He wasn't always this way but–"
"Is he dangerous?" I say sharply.
Cwen pauses, glancing back to Sihtric as if seeking assistance. He crosses his arms casually and nods in her direction, silently commanding the handmaiden to elaborate. "No...he's not." Cwen murmurs reluctantly.
"Then I'm doing it with or without your help." I say to both of them. Sihtric glares down at me. This is one thing I won't back down on. "He's an innocent man."
Sihtric just rolls his beautiful eyes. "You're not healing him."
"I wasn't asking you for your permission." I can't suppress the growl from forming deep in my throat.
"The Lord of Tettenhall is not worth you risking your life over. Aelwyn will kill you if she finds out." Cwen says softly, her voice filled with concern. "Please listen to Sihtric. She is not to be trifled with." She reaches out a hand to me, as if that's going to calm the thick tension.
