Crawling to my feet, I flinched as my bare soles pressed against cold wooden floors. Everything in Grindill was made of oak. It should have felt safe and secure, but instead I felt trapped.
Unfastening the latch, I swung the door open. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I was sleeping.”
Ylva frowned, likely because it was midday, although it might have been my appearance. I hadn’t bathed since washing away the blood and gore of battle, nor had I done anything with my hair since braiding it wet, and the lengths were fuzzy and unkempt. My room was filled with dirty bowls and empty cups that the servants left at the door, but which I hadn’t allowed anyone in to clear away. If my mother had seen me this way, she’d have smacked me upside the head.
But I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was sleep.
“You will answer Steinunn’s questions,” Ylva snapped. “Else you will answer mine.”
“Fine.” I allowed the skald to step inside, then slammed the door in Ylva’s face.
“Your brother has come to stay at Grindill,” Steinunn said by way of greeting. “He has brought his wife, Ingrid, with him.”
Wife.
I hadn’t even known they’d been married. Certainly hadn’t been invited to the wedding, not that there had been any time to attend. With the exception of recent days, I’d had not a moment’s respite. But it still stung to have been excluded. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Steinunn moved into the room, surveying the mess and then perching on the corner of my rumpled bed. Not for the first time, I was struck by how truly lovely she was, her light brown braids in perfect order and rounded cheeks flushed a becoming pink. Her dress was perfectly cut and devoid of stains, the cleavage I deeply envied peeking out above a modest neckline. Though she was older than I was, the only signs of it were faint crow’s-feet next to her eyes. Yet despite how lovely she was, I’d never once seen anyone pursue her with romantic intent, man or woman, and I wondered if it was because she dissuaded attention or whether everyone saw just a voice.
I remained standing with my arms crossed. “I thought you were still traveling around singing your song about Fjalltindr.” Spreading word and growing my fame, because Snorri believed that was what would bring the jarls to swear oaths to him as their king.
She gave me a faint smile. “Would you like to hear it? You fainted before I’d hardly begun when I sang it in Halsar.”
“Not really.” I knew I was being unpleasant but couldn’t remove the edge from my tongue. “I already lived it.”
“I understand,” she said. “It takes a certain type of person to want to see themselves in the magic of my songs. Bjorn said he’d rather listen to seagulls fight over a fish than hear anything with him in it.”
“Bjorn’s an arse,” I muttered, though I very much agreed with him. “You’ve a beautiful voice. Everyone says so.”
Steinunn inclined her head. “You are kind to flatter me, Freya.”
Given I was acting like a miserable hag, I couldn’t help but grimace. “What do you wish to know?”
“I would like to hear you tell your story of the battle.”
Turning away, I went to the table covered with dirty bowls and cups, loading them onto a tray. I needed to do something productive because it was the only way to curb the rise of frantic emotion in my chest. “There were others there. Ask them.”
“I have. But the song is about you. It’s meant to tell all of Skaland that you are a woman to be respected. To be followed. What you share with me will help shape the song so that it better captures your spirit.”
So that she could use it to spread my reputation. Which really meant spreading Snorri’s reputation, for I served at his pleasure. “There is nothing I can tell you that others wouldn’t already have shared.”
She frowned. “You’re certain?”
Irritation rose in me that she was pressing the issue, and sharp words started up my throat. I gave a swift nod before they could exit, biting my tongue.
Steinunn rose and inclined her head. “I will sing for our people tonight—it would be well for you to be there. Though you should refrain from drinking your weight in mead beforehand.”
Cracks formed in my self-control, my temper flowing out. “I know what happened, Steinunn. I didn’t take pleasure from being there and I won’t take pleasure from seeing it again, so please excuse my absence.”
The skald nodded, moving to the door. Yet instead of leaving me to bury myself back into furs and misery, she paused. “I endured a tragedy that cost me nearly everything I held dear, so I understand your grief, as well as the desire to avoid all mention of it. That said, while you will not enjoy my song, I do believe you need to see what all those around you witnessed and why they feel about you as they do.”