She slapped him sharply across the face.
He bared his teeth against the sting, but his eyes blazed back at her. “He’s making stupid mistakes. He should have marched through Bahoul. That would have been the smart choice.”
Norah swallowed. That’s why the Shadow King had taken her to Bahoul. They had expected Alexander to go there. It had been the smart choice.
“But instead, he marched straight through the Tribelands,” he told her. “And he drove your army much faster than he should have. Look at your men. They’re tired, spent.” He paused, with a slight curve of his lips. “His emotion controls him. And that makes him easily beaten.”
He leaned closer to her. “Would you like to make a wager, North Queen? If you stay here tonight, there will be war. You give him time—time to think, to plot, to plan, for the madness to take hold—and he won’t let you go.” He smiled. “And I’ll kill him.”
Norah’s pulse quickened again. She wasn’t confident Alexander could stand against the king’s brute. If she went back now, the commander would go with her, keeping Alexander safe.
“And if I return today?” she asked. “You won’t harm him?”
His eyes burned with an unsatisfied fire, but finally, he gave a single nod.
Tears stung her eyes, threatening to fall. “Let me write my letter, then. And I’ll go.”
Norah folded her penned letter, pouring the wax and stamping it slowly. This wasn’t a letter of good news, but her grandmother would be relieved at her safety, and Norah was sure she would understand. This marriage changed everything, for everyone.
Alexander stepped into the tent and eyed the commander, finding him as he had left him, with the head of his axe resting at his feet and his hand on the handle. Then his gaze found Norah. She stood and stepped close to him. He was silent, hesitant to speak in front of the commander, but his eyes bore into hers, and she could see the sadness inside him.
“So this is why they call you the Bear,” she whispered, touching the crown head of the beast on his shoulder.
His voice came in barely a breath. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”
Her lip trembled, and he stepped closer. She couldn’t stop herself—she swept forward and threw her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Tears fell as she breathed him in. If this was the last she’d see of him, she wanted to remember everything about him—how he felt, how he smelled. She only wished she could kiss him. She wished she could tell him she loved him. But that wouldn’t help either of them now. Especially not with the commander so near.
The commander.
Remembering his presence, she pulled back, wiping her cheeks and inhaling deeply. “I’m going back today,” she told Alexander.
His breath quickened, and he shook his head. “No, stay. You said you would stay until tomorrow.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and held the letter out to him. “For my grandmother.”
He reached out and took the letter. “Norah, you can’t.”
“Will you tell her I’m well?”
Alexander reached up and gently brushed the bruise that still marred her cheek. His eyes were thick with emotion. She’d forgotten about her face. It had healed mostly, but there was still evidence of a fight. How difficult it must be for him to see her this way.
“What have they done to you?” he breathed. His gaze shifted back to the commander.
“This isn’t their doing.”
“All of this is their doing.” He shook his head and dropped his voice. “Norah. You can’t do this. You can’t go.” His words broke. “I can’t let you go this time.”
“Don’t you see? It’s the only way.”
“What about Aleon?”
“If I wed Phillip, there will still be war,” she argued. “Yes, Aleon gives us the means to fight, but we still have to. You saw the vision. With Phillip by my side, this war carries on. Thousands will die.”
His brow dipped. “You think Phillip won’t bring a war if you marry the Shadow King?”
“With what? He can’t fight Japheth and the Shadowlands and Mercia. He won’t be happy, but there’s nothing he can do. Alexander, an alliance with the Shadowlands is the only alliance that can bring peace.”
“Norah, please,” he begged.
Norah put her hand on his cheek and shook her head softly. “It’s too late,” she whispered through her own tears. “I made a promise, and I can’t break it now. Look around us. These men, they’ll all die. You’ll die. I have to do what’s best for Mercia.” And what was best for him.
“This isn’t it,” he said hoarsely. “You can’t marry him.”
Norah’s heart broke. “I’m sorry.”
She stood up on her toes and brought her lips to his cheek, kissing him a longing goodbye. Then she pulled away and stepped out of the tent and into the winter.
Chapter thirty-six
Norah and the commander rode in silence back up the pass to the Shadow army camp where the king met them with surprise. Mikael called out in the Shadow tongue and the commander responded in kind.
The king reached out to help her as she slid down from the mare. She could tell he was at a loss for words over their early return. “You said you would send more provisions,” she reminded him, forcing her voice steady.
“That I will,” he assured her.
She gave a small nod and walked past him, toward the large tent. She was starting to fall apart and needed a place to be alone. The king let her go. Tears streamed down her face by the time she ducked inside, and she fell onto the bed and wept.
It was daylight when she woke to the sound of the king’s voice outside the tent. She wiped her eyes and sat up, surprised she had fallen asleep, and even more surprised it was morning. A thick fur had been draped over her. She heard the king enter and looked up to see him holding a bowl of steaming soup and a wineskin.
He held the bowl out for her. Norah took it and drank down the savory broth. Her stomach grumbled. She’d eaten nothing the day prior, and she was famished. She finished the bowl quickly.
He held out his hand for the bowl, and she slowly gave it back to him.
“Do you want another?” he asked.
Yes. “No.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. He moved to the flap of the tent and extended the bowl to a soldier outside. “Another,” he said.
He held out the wineskin, and she took it, eyeing him.
“Why did you return?” he asked.
She took a drink of the wine. A deep one. It was good, and she hated it. “Because I said I would. Did you not expect me to?”
He didn’t answer.
The realization came to her. “That’s why you sent the commander with me, wasn’t it? To kill me if I tried to leave?”
“He was to kill the Bear.”
Her heart quickened. “We agreed—”
“It was only if you would have broken our agreement,” he interrupted her.
Anger pulsed inside her. “But I didn’t.”
“And the Bear is still alive.”
“Stop calling him that,” she snapped. “He’s my lord justice.”