Endre (Elsker Saga Book 2) (8 page)

I giggled. “So she didn’t get the job?”

“Nope. I heard she was really mad about it, too. She probably thought if she were that close to Ull, she’d win him over or something.” Inga leaned over and slapped my hand away from my face. “Kristia! Don’t bite your nails this close to your wedding!”

“Sorry.” I twirled with the straw in my drink instead. “So who’s going to be my jailer now?”

“Bodyguard. And I don’t know. I wish it could be me.”

“Why can’t it be?” That was a great idea. Inga and I already spent loads of time together. If I had to have someone following me around, it may as well have been someone I enjoyed hanging out with.

“Too dangerous.” Her hair shook around her shoulders. “Dad’s convinced that every dark elf in the cosmos is going to come after you the minute your identity comes out. And he doesn’t want me standing in their way. Kristia! Nails! Nobody’s going to get you. Ull won’t let them.”

“Right.” I gripped my cup to keep my hands busy. “So you’re sure there was never anything between Skadi and Ull?”

“I’m sure. Honestly, Kristia, he never looked twice at anybody before he met you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously. After his dad died, he couldn’t handle the thought of losing anyone else.”

“Well, he’s never getting rid of me.”

“I know.” Inga leaned forward in her seat as two cars spun out. A man on the track waved a yellow flag and the racers slowed down. “And
you’re
never getting rid of me. It’s been an eternity of exhaustion taking care of the boys by myself. Did I tell you what Gunnar did to my new paring knife?”

She started the latest in a series of tales of Gunnar destroying her beloved kitchenware. I let my mind focus on Inga’s domestic difficulties while the cars moved slowly around the wreck. I could think about my worries another day.

WHEN I GOT BACK
to my flat, my roommates were lying in wait.

“Where have you been?” Victoria sat in the armchair in our small living area, staring at the door like an annoyed parent. Her chic chestnut hair was fixed into a sleek bob, and she twirled her stiletto-clad foot at the ankle. Even relaxing at home, my fashion-major flatmate managed to look like she just stepped off the runway.

With a glance at the clock in the entryway, I closed the front door behind me. “It’s five-thirty. We aren’t supposed to leave for dinner until six. You know I’d never miss Curry Thursday.”

That was a lie. I’d have given my eyeteeth to have Chow Mein Thursday, but Cardiff was disappointingly devoid of good Chinese restaurants. It was an outright sin.

“Yes, well, I’ve got some wedding designs to go over with you. And Emma has been waiting all afternoon to try her Hair Helper.”

“Hair Helper?”

“Yes. Finally! Jeez, took you long enough. Come on, we only have thirty minutes until we have to leave.” Emma flew down the hallway, her crimson hair streaming behind her. I caught a glimpse of the strange contraption in her hand as she dragged me into her bedroom. She shoved me down onto her bed and climbed up after me, pulling the elastic out of my ponytail.

“What are you doing?” I tried to crane my neck but she held my head in place with a surprisingly strong grip.

“We need to practice your wedding hair,” Emma declared.

“My wedding hair?” I turned to the other side and stared at the domed object in Emma’s hands. “What is that thing?”

“The Hair Helper. It’s guaranteed to give you real ‘oomph’ at the crown. I ordered it off the late-night telly.”

“Oh, Emma. You haven’t been shopping off that again, have you?” Emma was a math major, and one of the brightest analytical minds I’d met at Cardiff, but she had some seriously questionable hobbies. The last time she’d ordered something from the shopping network, we enjoyed savory purees for our stews… . until the Dream Dome exploded, leaving tiny bits of carrots and onions all over our kitchen.

“She has, and now you get to reap the rewards.” Victoria strolled into the bedroom, sketchpad in hand.

I jumped to my feet. “I really don’t think—”

“Sit back down. This is happening.” Emma pushed me back into position and shoved the weird thing at my head. It looked about as useful as a screen door on a submarine, but Emma was determined. She started smoothing strands of hair over the Velcro-covered peak, sticking out her tongue as she concentrated.

“And you thought living with a fashion major was irritating.” Victoria made herself comfortable against the headboard, then smoothed her hair.

“At least that has perks,” I conceded. “No good can come of this.”

“Please,” Emma huffed. “You’ll have me to thank when you knock Ull’s socks off walking down the aisle.”

“I hope that’s not the only article of clothing she knocks off of Ull.” Victoria uncapped her pen and started to draw. “Where are you going on your honeymoon?”

“I don’t know. Ull won’t tell me.”

“Ooh, so romantic!” Emma squealed. She clapped her hands and pushed me to the mirror. “Well, with hair this fabulous, you won’t need to pack much.”

Victoria looked up from her sketchpad. “Just a baseball cap.”

“Don’t you like it?” Emma’s face fell.

I glanced in the mirror and tried not to cringe. My hair was stuck in a weird cone-shape on top of my head, with strands sticking at odd angles away from my face. Instinct told me this was supposed to be some sort of an elegant bouffant, but in reality I looked like I’d just stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I wracked my brain for something nice to say, but came up with diddly squat. There was just nothing good about this particular look.

Thankfully the chimes in my pocket did the talking for me.

“Pachelbel’s Canon. Must be the lucky fiancé.” Victoria snickered as I pulled out my phone.

“Seriously, Kristia? Still with the flip phone?” Emma shook her head. “I told you I’d take you to the Apple store on Saturday to—”

“Hold on a sec, Ull. I just have to do something real quick.” I put my phone down and began tugging at the top of my head. When I’d emancipated my mane, I tossed the contraption to Emma. “On second thought, I think I’m going to wear my hair down for the wedding.” I shrugged apologetically and patted her hand. “But thanks for thinking of me.”

“But—”

“What’s up, Ull?” I stepped into the hallway.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home from the racetrack safely.” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine.

“Just barely. Inga drives like a maniac.”

“I know. You have not had any more visions since the one at Ýdalir?”

“Nope.” I glanced at my roommates to see if they were listening, but they were staring at the Hair Helper.

“You will tell me immediately if you do.” It was a command.

“I promised I would.”

“You know how important this is. If you see anything suspicious, if you have any odd feelings, or a dream that you think might be—”

“Ull, I get it,” I whispered. “I’ll come straight to you if anything weird happens. But I have to go. It’s curry night.”

“You hate curries.”

“I do not,” I protested. “I just… uh…”

“Kristia, can’t we just try one more hairstyle before we leave?” Emma pleaded. “I think I know what I did wrong.”

“I have to go, Ull. Girl’s night.”

“Call when you get home to let me know you are safe,” he ordered.

“I will.”

“And Kristia?
Jeg elsker deg
.”

“I love you, too,” I murmured as I closed my phone.

“So one more style? Then dinner?” Emma asked hopefully.

I shook my head.

“Let it go, Emma. She’s just not ready for the Hair Helper.” Victoria patted Emma’s arm.

“That was just my first go at it. I still have three months to practice on her before the wedding.”

Three months
…

“That’s barely enough time for me to design your going-away gown.” Victoria patted the bed.

“You’re going to design a dress for me?” My eyes felt moist. “That is so incredibly kind.”

“Of course I am. It’s not every day one’s roommate makes an honest man of the sexiest bloke on campus. What do you think of my sketches?” Victoria held up her notebook. I sat down and took the pad from her hands. When I opened the cover, I bit back a smile.

“This is gorgeous, Victoria.” It was. A Grecian-style sheath with wide straps, an empire waist, and an exaggerated fitted bodice that tapered all the way to the ankle. “But I’m afraid it’s more you than me. I’d never be able to walk in it. And I’m not entirely sure my tush would fit in… there.” I gestured.

“Your bum would look amazing in it. What about this one? Emma inspired it.” Victoria flipped the page and I giggled.

“That is definitely you, Em.”

“It is, isn’t it? Sweetheart neck, fit-and-flare waist, a double petticoated miniskirt. The oversized flower appliqués would be either organza or chiffon. I want it to have an ethereal feel—like wearing a cloud.” Victoria pointed with her pencil.

“It’s spectacular,” I agreed.

“You could wear it with one of those tiaras we saw last week! Or a feathered fascinator—ooh, a feathered fascinator.” Emma’s eyes glazed over as she went to a fashion-inspired happy place.

“And then there’s this one.” Victoria turned the page again. “I think this would suit you best.”

I tore my eyes away from the now-bouncing Emma and stared at the page. My hand flew to my neck—Victoria’s design took my breath away. The sleeveless dress had a fitted bodice that would accentuate my chest. The skirt skimmed the hips tightly enough to showcase my… assets… before flaring in a delicate bell shape. It ended a few inches above the knee. It was just modest enough that Mormor would have approved, but still sexy enough to wow a Norse god. The dress had an intricate lace design that looked like a series of paisley swirls and delicate flowers, and it appeared to have some kind of beading sewn throughout—Victoria had drawn little lines designating sparkles.

“Wow.” I exhaled.

“You haven’t seen the best part.” Victoria turned the page again, revealing another sketch. “Check out that back.”

“Holy mother.” Emma sidled up next to us. “It drops almost to your bum. That backline is sexy as sin. Ull won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

“That was the plan.” Victoria confirmed.

“Um…” My fingers covered my eyes. The idea of wearing a near-backless dress had me flustered. But the idea of Ull and his hands… “Yes. Please. Make that one.”
Make it right now
.

“You like it?” Victoria shot me a sly glance.

“I love it,” I confirmed.

“But more importantly, Ull is going to flip.” Emma tossed her hair. “Has he ever seen you in anything that sexy?”

“Emma,” Victoria said. “Please.”

“My clothes are sexy,” I defended myself.

“Sure. If you call the occasionally exposed collarbone or,
gasp
, a bare wrist sexy,” Emma heckled.

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “She does have a point.” She buried her head in her sketchpad, scribbling furiously.

“It’s not like we had any reason to wear backless gowns in Nehalem,” I pointed out. “It was cold, like, three hundred days a year.”

“How do you explain the other sixty-five days?” Emma nudged me with her shoulder.

“Okay, ladies. What if we did something like this for a honeymoon dress?” Victoria held up the paper. “In teal, or maybe white.”

“Oh my God, V. It’s perfect! Can you make me one in green?” Emma clapped her hands.

“You just came up with that?” I touched the paper with one finger.

“The strapless bit might be a little uncomfortable for you, but we’ll tuck it here and here,” Victoria pointed with her pencil, “and I’ll build in padded cups so you don’t have to worry about fidgeting with a bra. The ruching will accentuate your tiny waist, and the A-line will give Ull easy access in the event he decides to—”

“It’s gorgeous,” I interrupted, blushing fiercely. “Love the ribbon at the hips.”

“That is a nice touch, don’t you think?” Victoria admired her work. “We could even add some pockets. Fun it up.”

“You’re really going to make me two dresses?” I touched the notebook with one hand.

“I’m planning to make you an entire honeymoon wardrobe. No offense, Kristia, but I don’t trust you to shop for yourself for
that
particular occasion.”

Now that she mentioned it, some guidance would be nice.

“Yay!” Emma clapped her hands. “What about something like this for one of the dresses?” She grabbed the pencil out of Victoria’s hands and started drawing. When she finished, Victoria eyed the paper critically.

“Again with the eyelets? Emma, we
discussed
this. Leave the design to me. You just worry about Kristia’s wedding hair.” Victoria smiled angelically as Emma grabbed the Hair Helper off the nightstand.

“Oh, goody. Because I think I know what happened before, and it’s an easy fix. All we have to do is tease the crown and maybe add some of that glittery hairspray…”

Heaven help us all.

“Olaug! To what do I owe the honor?” I opened the door of my flat with a wide smile. Olaug stood on the other side, an overflowing grocery bag in her arms.