Liv, he was friends with Liv. There’d been grief on his face when the healer died, far more than a stranger warranted. The reminder eased the tension in my chest, though in truth I didn’t entirely understand why these thoughts were eating me up. “Will you miss your brother?”
Bjorn paused in pulling on his trousers, then tugged them the rest of the way over his arse. “Of course I will. But with me gone, Leif will become Snorri’s heir. He’ll be jarl one day, and in truth, the people will be better for it.”
“Why do you think that?”
Bjorn’s eyes narrowed and he was silent for a long moment before saying, “Because he’s one of them in a way I never will be.”
My stomach roiled with unease, but I kept silent.
Exhaling a long breath, Bjorn sat on the floor. “I spent too many years in Nordeland, and that left a mark. In the way I do things. In the way I speak. In the way I think. Whereas Leif is Skalander through and through, and that makes the people like him better. Ylva was right to want him to lead the clan.”
I needed to know. “Are you a Skalander?”
He tensed slightly, then shook his head. “Soon neither of us will be, Freya, so I fail to see why this matters.”
“Because you don’t seem to care, and I want to understand why that is.” Accusations were going to spill forth, my temper hot, though it shouldn’t be.
Why was I so agitated? So angry?
“It’s complicated!” Bjorn rose to his feet. “My past is complicated, Freya. Nothing is simple, but what I don’t understand is why you feel you must dig into it now.”
“Because I want to know the truth about the man I’m abandoning everything for,” I exploded. “Especially given that you’ve all but admitted there are important things you haven’t told me about yourself.”
“Freya.” He reached for me, but I took a step back. “I love you. All I want is to be with you somewhere you are safe. To build a life together away from my past.”
Dread pooled in my chest, because if it was nothing, he wouldn’t be this cagey. He’d tell me if for no other reason than to calm me down. “I want those things, too.” My voice was breathy and strange, my head pulsing with tension. “But…but I can’t go until I know everything. If you won’t give me the truth, then I’m going back.”
All the color drained from his face. “You can’t go back.”
“Yes, I can.” I felt like I couldn’t breathe, because how had everything devolved so quickly? How had I gone from absolute certainty in him to…to this? “I can tell them I escaped the falls. No one ever has to know.”
“You don’t understand. If you go, he’ll—” He reached for my arm but I leapt backward, nearly sprawling as my feet caught on a rock.
“He’ll what?” I demanded. “What will Snorri do?”
“It’s complicated.” There was sweat beading on his brow. “Freya, I’ll explain everything, I swear it. But we need to leave. We need to run.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Twisting on my heel, I strode out of the cave, my eyes burning. But I made it only a few steps before sliding to a stop, terror filling my chest as I found myself face-to-face with King Harald of Nordeland.
“Good morning, Freya.” Harald smiled, tucking a lock of golden-brown hair behind his ear. “It fills my heart with joy to see you hale and healthy after such a terrifying plunge. I confess, we feared the worst when Tora knocked you into the river. But I should’ve known better than to doubt Bjorn.”
To doubt Bjorn.
His words sank into my heart, freezing me in place even as I heard Bjorn step out of the cave behind me. Felt him take in the sight of Harald with his warriors standing casually behind him, Bjorn’s voice tense as he asked, “Why are you here?”
A question I was deeply afraid he already knew the answer to.
“We feared you might have been injured, so rather than allowing you to bring her to us, we came in search.” Harald took a step closer. “While I understand your actions, they were too risky by far. You might have both been killed.”
A dull drone of noise filled my head and nausea twisted in my stomach, thoughts rising and falling away like twisting snakes. But all of them whispered words of betrayal.
“How did you find us?” Bjorn demanded, and I wanted to scream at him to stop it. To quit pretending, because every word twisted the knife in my heart deeper.