Witchcraft. Sorcery. Every instinct told me to run, even as logic whispered that I wouldn’t get far.
“I could bind her to you.” Ylva’s voice grew stronger, likely bolstered by the fact Snorri had yet to dismiss her plan. “By oath.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes skipping back and forth between the pair. No matter what, I was trapped in this situation. The only uncertainty that remained was which tie would bind me: my body or my word. And I knew which I’d prefer. Knew that I’d do anything, swear anything, to keep a child from being caught up in this nightmare. “I’ll swear an oath.”
Their heads swiveled, eyes latching on me with such intensity that it was hard not to cringe. But I had to persevere. “It must be on the condition that Snorri swears never to touch me.”
If he was offended, Snorri didn’t show it, only rubbed his bearded chin and then turned to his wife. “If anyone were to learn of this magic, your life would be in danger, my love. For the only way to break the spell is your death.”
“Then we continue the deceit that I am your wife,” I said. “The gods enjoy cleverness, so they will look upon the deception as a brilliant strategy worthy of a king.”
The moment the words exited my lips, Snorri’s eyes brightened, reference to his promised destiny washing away what uncertainty he had for Ylva’s plan.
Outside the room, the revelers were shouting and laughing, lewd comments floating through the walls, most of them suggestions for Snorri, and tension mounted.
“The people will want proof of consummation to believe it,” he said.
Don’t be a pawn, a voice whispered in my head. Find ways to take control! “Fake it,” I said. “It isn’t as though they expect the evidence of a maid, so Ylva will provide as much proof as I would. None would dare call their jarl a liar.”
Ylva’s eyes flared. Crossing the room, she caught hold of my arms, her fingernails digging deep into my skin as she pushed me against a wall, her mouth close to my ear as she said, “I don’t trust you.”
The feeling was mutual, but I was flush on the tiny bit of power I’d gained.
“The best alliances,” I said softly, “are those in which each party holds something against the other. Let us be the best of allies, Ylva.”
“If you ever betray us,” she whispered, “I won’t just kill you. I’ll make you watch while everyone you care about is carved apart, piece by piece, and when you are reduced to a broken thing, I’ll bury you alive.”
I believed her. Believed this woman would do exactly what she threatened, and for that reason I would not cross her. But that didn’t mean I needed to be cowed by her. Not blinking, I said, “Understood.”
“Cast the spell, Ylva,” Snorri said. “Let us cement the control that will deliver me my destiny.”
I watched in silence as Ylva retrieved a silver plate, setting it on a table. Removing a knife from her belt, she made a shallow cut on Snorri’s palm, allowing the blood to pool in the center of the plate. Then she motioned to me. “Give me your hand.”
“Don’t cut the tattoos,” Snorri warned. Ylva scowled but drew her blade across the back of my arm.
I winced but said nothing as she held the wound over the plate, my blood dripping down to mix with Snorri’s.
With her finger, Ylva swirled the blood together and then used it to paint runes around the edge of the plate. “Freya,” she said. “Repeat after me. I vow to serve no man not of this blood.”
If I said these words, I’d be bound for the rest of my life. Or at least the rest of Ylva’s. But the alternative was so much worse. “I vow to serve no man not of this blood.”
“I vow allegiance to him who is of this blood. I vow to protect, at all cost, him who is of this blood. I vow to speak no word of this bargain except to him who is of this blood.”
I repeated the words.
“Now you, my love.”
Snorri was silent for a long moment, then he said, “Before the eyes of the gods, I vow loyalty of my body and heart to my one true wife.”
Ylva’s eyes jerked up and there was no mistaking the swell of emotion in them. “You honor me.” Then she drew a final rune on the plate and everything, including the pool of blood, flared bright before disappearing into smoke. “It is done.”
I felt no different, and I wasn’t certain if that was a good or a bad thing, for part of me wished to feel the weight of what we’d done.
Ylva moved to retrieve a dark cloak, which she draped over my shoulders before pulling up the hood. “I’ll not have you watching.”