Mortal (Book 3)

Chapter 16

"Watching you? How could they have been watching you? No one knew what you were, not even the Empire. You grew up in Rorikstead; in the middle of nowhere! No offense, dear." Ulfric rants, scratching his beard as he paces our bedroom floor.
"None taken." I mumble, slumped on the bed. "I don't understand either, but how else could they have known about..." I start, looking down at my lap and crossing my arms over my stomach. Ulfric sighs and stops his pacing, kneeling in front of me in the floor.
"I love you. We'll figure this out together... And no matter what, I'm not losing you again." He says, kissing my hands.

~

I barely sleep that night, terrified of the dawn to come. This life was not one I was born into, and I feel like an imposter among the nobility. They're not all bad, but I know that without a dozen titles in my name and a crown on my head they wouldn't even look at me. Is this what I want? I was more than content just to be Ulfric's queen, and even that I could hardly imagine. My mind swirls with questions and worry for my homeland.
Ulfric rolls over in bed, draping a gentle arm over me as sunlight streams over the mountain tops and into our bedroom window.
"Did you sleep at all?" He asks. I shake my head. "I didn't think you would." He says.
"Why do you think I can do this?" I ask him.
"I meant what I said. You would be a better High Ruler than me or any of the Jarls in Skyrim." He says.
"Maybe, but you're lying. Why did you really do this?" I ask him, sitting up in bed. He sees the look in my eyes, and already knows he's lost.
"To protect you." He says softly.
"From what?" He sighs, sitting up on the side of the bed, his elbows on his knees.
"Nova, you will outlive me, that much we both know and can't deny. If I were to die, you would have no legitimate claim to the throne, and the Jarls would usurp you in the blink of an eye; you know they would. Skyrim won't go to another civil war by my hand."
"No one would go to war because of me." I scoff, but the more I think about it, the more I realize he's right. I'd be a martyr of the people, the queen that was one of them, ripped from her throne.
"They already are." He says grimly. He's right; Princess Satherea, the Argonian princes, Prince Amaund. All of them, willing to risk their kingdoms and their lives, just to put me on another throne. The weight is unbearable.

~

Taarie and Endarie arrive within the hour, their eyes almost as drooping and tired as mine with a large box in hand. They tiredly shoo Ulfric out of the room and lace me into a corset again, without really even saying a word to Erdi or me; not that I mind.
They lay the flat wooden box on my bed and pull away the wrapping paper, revealing gentle waves of perfect red silk.
"The fabric is imported from Elsweyr." Taarie says, following my gaze and smiling as much as she can manage. Endarie pulls the dress out of the box, revealing lengths of silver beading and embroidery against the red.
"It's beautiful... You must've worked all night." I manage. Taarie nods, helping me into it and clasping the buttons at my back. They braid my hair loosely and drape it over my shoulder. Once they finish painting my face with makeup, they present me with a mirror. I let out a small gasp when I see my reflection, and the sisters smile and nod to each other in agreement.
This dress is much different from my first gown. Where the last one was short and loose at the bottom so that I could dance, this one is long and fitted from my bust to my hips, with a long train of densely embroidered silk. The sleeves rest just off of my shoulders and the neckline dips low. the sleeves themselves are made from a flowing gauzy material, so long that they drag the floor with the train.
"It's amazing." I tell them.
"Thank you, Stormblade." Endarie says with a yawn.
"Well, I suppose you look somewhat presentable for once." Galmar says behind me.
"Funny." I sneer at him, but I'm glad for the joke. He walks toward me, smiling.
"Nervous?" He asks.
"I got past 'nervous' hours ago." I tell him.
"Bah, don't be. They'll put the crown on your head, give ya a nice pat on the back and send ya on your way." He explains. I sigh, squirming in the tight silk. He crouches, trying to meet my eyes. "Nova, you'll be a wonderful queen." He says, grasping my shoulders. I hug him tightly, and he laughs. He lets me go and starts for the door. "Whenever you're done gawking at yourself, we'd best get a move on." he says.