One of the guards enters, interrupting our conversation. He bows low. “Forgive me, Your Highnesses, but King Henrick has arrived.”
My heart slams in my throat. I push my hands into my lap to still their shaking as I tip my chin up to receive our most welcome guest.
“Show him in,” Gerold orders.
The doors open, and my mouth drifts open as King Henrick appears. He is indeed as handsome as they say. He has a proud, square jaw that could cut glass, and blond hair—the color so light it appears almost white—piercing blue eyes, and a tall, broad-shouldered physique. His body is heavily muscled.
Despite his attractiveness, he cannot rival Errik. Helplessly, I wish he were somehow here.
My brother stands to greet him. “Welcome, King Henrick. I am King Gerold, and this is my sister, Princess Halla. We are glad you have arrived safely.”
“Thank you. I am happy to be here.” King Henrick dips his chin in a subdued bow. His eyes snap to me, and I still as he pins me with an intense gaze. He walks toward me and drops to one knee. “Forgive my directness, Your Highness, but you are more beautiful than I was told.”
I smile, pleasantly surprised by his words. “Thank you.”
His gaze drops to my legs. “All have heard of your bravery. It is a shame you are now broken.”
My head jerks back at his blunt words. “I…” I trail off, unsure of how to respond.
He continues. “Perhaps my Healers can examine whether anything can be done.”
“I… would appreciate that, my Lord,” I reply, trying to be polite.
We go to the dining hall, offering him and his men refreshments after a long journey. Henrick sits across from me. I’m surprised when the food arrives and he rests his arms on either side of his plate, along with the rest of his men.
Instead of using the cutlery provided, they all use their hands, tearing into their food and eating loudly. Gerold’s eyes dart to mine.
Henrick lifts his gaze to me and smiles before shoving another oversized mouthful of bread in his mouth. Using his other hand, he rips off a piece of steak with his teeth, that appear strangely sharp—almost like fangs.
I glance down at my fork and knife and begin politely cutting into my food. I do not want to be rude, so I pretend that his way of eating is not strange to me. Gerold does the same.
Henrick’s eyes dart to me then my brother. “I like what I see. My offer still stands. I will give you the wealth to rebuild Solwyck in exchange for your sister’s hand.”
Gerold faces me. “The decision is not mine, Your Highness. It belongs to Halla.”
Henrick’s brow furrows deeply. “Fine. Let us spend time together this evening after dinner.” His blue eyes study me. “You may ask me whatever you wish, Princess. I am an open book.”
“Thank you.” I smile politely. “You may do the same.”
Once dinner is over, I wheel into the garden while Henrick follows beside me. The gardens overlook the ocean. They are lovely, dotted with flowering bushes carrying vibrant red-and-blue flowers. I love the long, trailing green vines with tiny purple glowing blossoms most. They drape over the garden walls, swaying in the breeze like living curtains. They were planted by my mother, and I am once again glad that these gardens were spared from the dragon’s fire.
Henrick walks beside me, studying the many wide, flat stones Gerold has had placed along the path for my chair to maneuver easily.
“I can have the castle fitted with whatever you need to move with your chair,” he says. “I will do all that I can to make your life easier.”
Surprised by his thoughtful words, I thank him.
He nods. “It is the least I can do.”
I stop and turn to face him. “You are so certain you want me, Your Highness?”
His gaze rakes over my form, and he nods firmly. “I need a future queen and someone to carry my heirs. You are lovely. Despite your broken body, I assume you may still be bred.”
My eyes widen, and my breath hitches in my throat. “Your… Highness?” I hedge, wondering if I’ve heard him wrong. “Did you ask if… I can be bred?”
“Yes,” he replies.
“Like a horse?” I ask, agitation seeping into my tone.
He clasps his hands behind his back and cocks his head to the side. “Forgive me. You find my manner of speaking blunt, I assume.”
“Yes.”
“It is my way—the way of the north. Life is hard in the ice and snow, and we do not have time for flowery words or flattery.” He pauses. “Will this be a problem for you?”
“I—” I stop short, uncertain of how to reply. “What about love?” I finally ask. “Is there any place for such emotion in the northern lands?”
His gaze holds mine for a moment before he responds, “I will be completely honest with you, Princess. Will that be acceptable to you?”
“Of course. Please, continue.”
He takes a seat on a bench beside me, studying me for a moment. “You are known for your intelligence, Princess Halla. A quality very valuable to have in one’s mate. And you are even more beautiful than the rumors I have heard. I have lands, ships, a castle, wealth, but I lack a wife. I cannot give you love, but I vow that I will never lie to you.
“I understand that many princes and kings have affairs, but that is not my way. I promise I will provide you with a good home and whatever you desire. I ask only in return that you rule by my side, give me at least two heirs, and never deny me your bed. Is this acceptable to you?”
He must recognize the hesitation in my eyes because he adds, “I know your kingdom’s coffers are nearly empty. I would give your brother whatever he needs and more to rebuild Solwyck, but only in exchange for what I ask—your hand.”
He pauses to let his words sink in. “I doubt you will receive a better offer considering your situation, Princess. You are beautiful, but your body is not whole. I understand politics, and I know that if not for the dragon fire and your accident, you would never even consider me. Yet I promise you that our kingdom will be ruled wisely. I do not allow feelings to get in the way of logic; that is what makes me a good ruler.” He stands. “Think about what I have said.”
He starts to turn away but stills as if thinking better of it. He takes my hand, and I’m in too much shock at his words to pull away. He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a chaste kiss on the back.
His blue eyes search mine. “I suspect you appreciate affectionate gestures. I will try to remember this in the future if you wish.” He dips his chin. “We will speak again in the morning.”
As he walks away, I’m left gaping. I’ve never been spoken to so bluntly. While I appreciate honesty, I’ve never realized how important the simple niceties between people are until now. When you strip away the little things, you are left with only the hollow darkness of… nothing but stark and hard truth.
That is what I sense in his eyes. No cruelty, no malice, no kindness or gentleness there. Simply truth. No emotion.
Can I really spend the rest of my life with a husband who speaks without passion and wants me only for the heirs I can bear? A man who thinks nothing of telling me that I am broken?
My thoughts turn to Errik. I wish he were here. I miss his shining eyes, his bright smile when he sees me, his kind words, and the way he touches me so carefully and so tenderly when he helps me to and from my chair.
Tears sting my eyes and blur my vision. I’m too upset to call for one of the guards to carry me up the stairs to my room. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.
It’s not as if King Henrick is cruel; he is simply blunt and honest. So why am I crying? Why am I so devastated? Though Gerold assured me I do not have to marry him, King Henrick was right. What other offers will I have?
None.
If I want to do what’s best for the people of Solwyck, I will marry him, and he will give Gerold whatever he needs to rebuild our kingdom. The people will have food and all that they desire. Solwyck can become a bright and shining city once again.
I make my way toward the sea. Stripping off my dress, I push out of the chair and drag my body into the water. It is dark, and the moon is only half full, but it casts enough light to guide my swim to the rocky island—mine and Errik’s. I drag myself onto the hard stone and sand, and curl up on my side.
Errik’s image resurfaces in my mind, and I cannot stop crying because I know he can never be mine. A broken sob escapes me, the sound swallowed by the wind, as I cry my anguish to the stars.
