The Duty of a Queen (2 page)

There were other scars with stories. Four circular burns on his
stomach where raiders had tortured him before she had rescued him, the feat
that had earned her the
ka'sgi
. Numerous small scars on his hands and
wrists from his training. His were more numerous than hers, but they wore them
all with pride. Three claw marks on his forearm from the bear on whose skin
they now lay.

His eyes opened but neither of them spoke. They would still speak
and be near each other, but this was their true farewell, and they knew there
were no words. She rested her hand on his cheek and he did the same to her, his
thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. They remained there until the
first rays of daylight arrived.

***

Astrid kept her eyes straight ahead as her father escorted her to
the shore. Behind her were the People of the Grey Stones, all dressed in their
very best. No matter their feelings about what she had done, they would not
shed a tear and they would support this union. She was their princess, and they
would honor her wishes. Even the one whose heart was hurting as much as her
own.

As they rounded the bend, she saw the ships that had brought the
invaders to the island, the ones that would bear her and her chosen few away
again. The prince's armies were on the ships, only a few lined the shore. She
was unsure if this was a show of respect, that he was not flaunting the greater
force that had conquered them, or if he was taunting her, reminding her that
even these few would hold her to her promise.

When her gaze came at last to rest upon Prince Oliver himself, she
decided that he had made his decision out of respect. She had studied him when
she had presented her terms, wise enough to know that though she would follow
through no matter what, she needed to know what kind of man she would pledge
herself to. Now, she saw the same man waiting for her. His bearing held not a
trace of arrogance or malice. She did wonder why then he had come to the
island, but the why was no longer important, only that her people would live
and be treated well.

He held out his hand to her as she approached and she saw that his
pale eyes were warmer than she had expected. Her father placed her hand in the
prince's and then stepped back. Astrid could see her father's pain and knew that
it was only in part due to his injury. He had protested the union though he
knew it was best for their people. His heart had always been tender.

Astrid had requested that the ceremony be done in the ways of her
people, then in the prince's tradition, binding them by both people. She had
been pleasantly surprised when he had agreed. Now, the Elder of the People
moved to stand beside the man the prince had chosen to conduct his ritual. She
allowed the words to flow over her, automatically answering as she had been
taught. Prince Oliver followed her lead and responded in kind, his strange
accent turning the words into something unfamiliar. The People of the Grey
Stones and the invaders shared a common tongue, though they spoke with a
different rhythm and pronunciation. When the first ceremony was complete, the
prince's man began, and it was Astrid's turn to do as the prince had done. Her
tongue wanted to trip over the words, but she stayed strong.

Then it was finished and the prince was bending his head towards
her. She braced herself for what was coming. His mouth was gentle on hers, his
lips lingering only a moment before he straightened. Astrid blinked, the only
reaction to her disbelief. No matter how honorable she had heard the prince
was, she had not expected a kiss such as that. Marriage alliances were feared
among her people, fueled by stories from the past where their women had been
taken against their will, forced into displays of submission, not the least of
which was the sealing kiss.

Prince Oliver bowed slightly over her hand and then turned towards
the people watching the ceremony. His voice rang out clear and strong, a
leader's voice. “Bear your witness here, that Astrid, Princess of the Grey
Stones has been taken as my wife. Our lands and our peoples are forever joined
as she and I are joined. Our children will rule both my land and hers, two
nations brought together through this union, with all of the privileges and
responsibilities of both. You need never fear the raiders on the waters, as my
ships are now yours. Here begins a new life for us all.”

The prince's people cheered and, after a moment, the People of the
Grey Stones did as well. A surge of pride filled her. Her people would not
allow this to defeat them. They would honor her as their queen, just as they
had always intended. It would not matter to them who shared her bed. She was
their princess and they would be loyal to her, bowing a knee when she asked and
ready to fight again should she so desire.

She remembered little of the celebration that followed, only that
food and drink flowed. Her people slowly mingled with the prince's, their
animosity gradually being overcome by their loyalty to their lieges. It was
gratifying to see that the prince's people served out of love and admiration, and
not from fear. She had hope for this alliance.

Prince Oliver stayed at her side, engaging her in conversation about
her family, her life. His interest seemed genuine and she reciprocated with
questions of her own. He readily answered them with an openness that she found
refreshing. She searched each word for some measure of deceit and found none.
Either he was quite skilled at fooling those around him, or he was a man whose
company she felt that she could enjoy. There was none of the fire and passion she
felt for Jonas, but it did not seem that she would be as miserable as she had
feared. Still, she felt Jonas's gaze on her at all times and it took all she
had not to turn to him.

“Prince Oliver.” The man who had performed the ceremony laid his
hand on the prince's shoulder. “If we are to sail with the tide, we must
prepare to depart.”

The prince nodded once and then turned to Astrid. “It is time.”

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Yes, my prince. I shall
say my farewells and gather those who will accompany us.”

He gave her a soft smile. For a moment, she thought he would say
something more, but he only inclined his head and walked away. She watched him
go for a moment. There was, it seemed, more to her husband than it appeared.

***

Astrid was unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She and her
court had boarded the ship that the prince had called
The Lady's Ransom
,
and once she had seen them all settled below decks, Prince Oliver had shown her
to their quarters, then said that he would return after consulting with the
captain. She had never been aboard a ship before, only the small boats her
people used around the island. The prince's quarters were the size of the main
room of her home on the island, the bed against the wall twice the size of hers.
The furnishings were richer than anything she had ever seen, and for the first
time, she wondered what her life as queen of a foreign land would be like.

The door opened and she turned, swaying as the motion of the ship
beneath her threw off her balance. She had not become ill as she had heard some
did, but she did not like the disorientation. Her annoyance must have shown on
her face, because as the prince stepped inside the room, he frowned.

“Is something amiss?”

Astrid breathed deeply through her nose, then out through her mouth.
She did not want the prince to think her ungrateful for the alliance. “Just
becoming accustomed to the ship, my prince.”

Prince Oliver closed the door and crossed the room until he was
within arm's reach. “I am not your prince, Astrid. I am your husband. I would
that you called me Oliver, if it pleases you.”

She could not disguise her surprise.

The prince
—
Oliver
—
reached out and brushed a curl back from her face. “I do not wish
for a subjugate, but an equal. You will bow a knee to no one.”

Astrid bowed her head to hide the emotion passing over her face. She
had not expected this. The best she had hoped for was the prince to be kind.
“My prince.”

“Oliver, please.” He hooked his finger under her chin and raised her
head so that their eyes could meet. “Now, my princess,” he smiled as he
continued. “We have a decision to make.”

Astrid frowned. What decision could that be? Had they not made all
of their arrangements prior to the ceremony?

“While I would never ask a lady to do anything with which she was
not comfortable, I know that my people will not truly be at rest with our
alliance until there is proof of the marriage's consummation.”

A child. Astrid nodded. She, too, knew that her people would not
accept the truth of the marriage until a child was born. She could, she
believed, ask him to wait, but she knew that if she did, the temptation would
always exist to continue to delay the inevitable. She reached for the tie on
her right shoulder and pulled the string, letting the soft fabric of her dress
fall to the top of her breasts. Without saying a word, she pulled the second
tie and her dress pooled around her feet.

She expected his hands on her breasts, rough between her legs. He
would put her on the bed, perhaps not even remove his strange clothing, and
mount her. What she did not expect was the look of wonderment on his face, the
heat in his eyes that spoke of a desire different than wanting ownership. He
did not touch her, not yet, only looked. She saw his eyes widen as they saw her
ma'sgi
.

“I did not realize...” He gestured at her arms.

“They are
ma'sgi
,” she said softly. “When I began training to
lead the People of the Grey Stones, I received my first marks.” She turned.
“And I received my
ka'sgi
when I completed my training.”

She caught her breath as she felt his fingers trace, not her marks,
but her scar.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was closer than he had been before.

She shook her head. His hands moved to her shoulders and slid down
her arms to rest at her elbows.

“Is it...” His voice faltered. “Did this happen...?”

She knew what he was asking and answered honestly. “Yes. It is a
result of the war.”

His lips touched her shoulder and a spark went through her, making
her gasp. She had not thought to react to his touch. It was physical only, none
of the emotion that came with Jonas's touch. Still, she thought it may be
enough.

When he removed his hands, she turned to find him taking off his
shirt. She watched in silence as he revealed a firm, muscular torso. His skin
was not as scarred as Jonas's, but as he bent to remove his trousers, she saw a
criss-cross of scars on his back. She knew what made those marks, though she
did not know who would dare to whip a prince.

She did not ask, but as he straightened, he offered an explanation.
“My father did not take kindly to my reservations about coming to the island.”

Astrid's eyes widened.

“I do not say this for your pity, only so that you will know that I
did not come lightly.” He took her hand. “Another time, I will tell you of all
that lead to our meeting. Tonight, however, I wish to make you my queen.” He
paused, then continued. “If you do not object.”

Astrid sat on the edge of the bed and pushed herself back to the
center. The fabric beneath her hands was softer than any she had felt before. The
children of her village would love it. Perhaps this union would do more for her
people than only top the war. She leaned back on her elbows and parted her
legs. She was not ready and, from what she saw, neither was he, but they would
make this happen. She had seen his desire, had felt her body's physical
response to him.

His touch was hesitant at first, but she could see that he was only
worried about her reaction, not that he did not know what he wanted. There was
none of the confidence she and Jonas had experienced their first time, the
surety of knowing that their touch was welcome.

Slowly, though, she and Oliver gauged reactions, watched their
partners' faces and bodies. How Oliver sucked in a breath when Astrid scraped
her teeth over one flat nipple. The way her breathing stuttered when he pressed
his lips against that spot below her ear. When he finally entered her, she was
wet and trembling. He was gentle, though she could feel the strength he was
holding back. A strength that promised something with an edge, something like
the primal couplings she and Jonas had experienced after a fierce battle or a
rousing training session.

The wave of pleasure caught her by surprise as the prince rolled his
hips and he brushed something inside her that she had never felt before. She
cried out, biting down on her lip so as to not say a name. She could not call
for Jonas and did not want to call for Oliver. The prince's hips jerked against
her, and his body went rigid in her arms. Astrid's breathing stuttered as she
felt her husband empty himself inside her.

Tears burned at her eyelids and she blinked them back. She would not
cry. She was Princess Astrid of the Grey Stones, a warrior. She forced down the
emotions threatening to overwhelm her. When the prince raised his head from her
chest, her eyes were clear and she was once again in control.