Ease The Dawn

Chapter 17

"Please tell me what is going on?" she called to him as he stocked ahead of her and through the door of the tent.

Eyes darting around the inside of the canvas, he searched for something to direct his fury at. This was it, she was leaving, he thought. Closing his eyes, he attempted to steady his rapid breathing, not recognizing the emotion surging through him. What was it? It was not anger. Grief? The coldness in his stomach reminded him of the loss he felt mourning his beautiful mother. Had he not orchestrated the princess's return? He could change his mind. He did not have to give her up, he reminded himself. Why should he?

"My Lord."

Her soft voice coming from behind needled into his brain. Turning, he looked at her sweet, questioning face and sighed. That is why he was doing it, that exquisite face. Breathing deeply, he exhaled again, forcing his shoulders to soften.

"I do not understand. Did Alfred grant you the territory?"

"How do you know of that?" he asked.

"Slaves talk." She shrugged. "As do warriors when in bed with slaves."

Looking at her light blue eyes, the bow of her delicate lips, he could not help but reach forward and sweep back a loose curl resting on the side of her perfect face. She leaned into his hand, her eyelids closing, as the pads of his fingers gently ran down the side of her jaw to her chin. Clenching into a fist, he pulled his hand back, dropping it to his side and cleared his throat. Her eyes fluttered open and she furrowed her brow, watching his composure harden.

"The terms were changed." Turning away, he shuffled over to his stool, his legs screaming at him to sit.

"Who am I being traded for?"

"Your husband," he could not look at her.

Her eyes widened in both shock and confusion.

"Why? Why Burgred?"

"Because I can." Looking back to her, his head cocked to one side, studying her reaction.

"Will Burgred..."

"He will never return to you," Ivar answered before she could finish. "Will you hate me for it?"

"No."

"What will you feel for me?" his eyes narrowed, waiting on her response.

"Not hate." She stared back.

His gaze faltered and he again looked away. "After tomorrow you must go elsewhere. You may return home to say farewell, but it is best that you then leave for your aunt's in Frankia. I have an uncle there..."

"I beg your pardon," she rushed.

His eyes snapped back to her. "Wessex is not safe for you. No where in England is. Vikings will return to conquer these lands and I am not going to have you..." Stopping, he glanced up to the ceiling and shook his head. "You must go to Frankia."

"My brothers are all that I have."

"You are a grown twenty-year-old woman," he spat. "Your brothers are both getting married. Why would they need you?"

"Will you continue to negotiate with Alfred?"

"It is over." His voice dropped to a quiet tone.

"Are you going home? To take back your mothers' throne?"

"Yes."

She nodded acknowledging his answer.

"I will not go to Frankia. I cannot. They are horrendous people. I would consider life in a monastery ahead of going there."