Page 127 of North Queen
“Must he drink that filth in front of me?” Salara-Mae’s voice cut through the air.
Norah glanced around the table to see what had upset her. The king’s brute held a chalice in his hand and was cheekily taking another drink before setting it on the table. She wondered what was inside it. He seemed to hold Salara-Mae’s contempt. She wouldn’t even speak directly to him, which was surprising. And somewhat entertaining.
“Well, we didn’t know you’d be joining us for dinner this evening, Mother,” Mikael answered in his commander’s defense.
Salara-Mae scowled at her son, who took a bite of food and chewed it slowly, unfazed. Then she straightened her shoulders and turned to Norah. “I take my dinner in my chamber, as I prefer an early meal. I’m sure you’ll prefer to do the same during your visit.”
Visit.
Norah held a grape in her fingers. It was the largest grape she’d ever seen, and she popped it in her mouth. Salara-Mae looked at her as though she expected her to respond.Nope. Norah pushed in two more grapes. Then her eyes found Mikael, who was looking back at her.
She stopped mid-chew.
“It’s more than a visit, Mother. The North Queen and I are to be married,” he announced, rather abruptly.
Norah forced herself to swallow her mouthful of half-chewed grapes and frowned. Perhaps he could have waited for just a little better timing and maybe had a softer approach or a bit of a buildup? But there it was—out.
A coldness swept through the room. Norah’s heart raced in her chest.
Salara-Mae carefully put down her glass and smoothed out the cloth on the table in front of her. “If this is your attempt at humor, it’s ill spun.”
Norah shoved another set of grapes into her mouth. She wouldn’t be available to speak for this engagement.
“This isn’t a humorous matter,” he replied. “I will wed the North Queen.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
Norah pushed in another two grapes without having chewed the others.
“You speak to your salar,” he reminded his mother.
“What would your father say?” she hissed.
His voice was as sharp as steel. “My father’s dead.”
Norah swallowed her grapes and took a deep drink from her chalice. It wasn’t exactly how she’d hoped this conversation would go. She wondered if it would have been different in Mercia. Probably not. She was starting to appreciate that she’d only had to write a letter to Catherine and the council.
“I would speak with you alone,” Salara-Mae said to her son.
Norah would be perfectly fine with them speaking alone.
“No need,” he said stiffly. “My decision’s final.”
Norah thought the lump in her throat might choke her. She focused on controlling the shake in her breath.
Salara-Mae moved her icy gaze to Norah and then to the commander. Surely a fire burned inside him in violent agreement with the king’s mother, regardless of the bitterness that sat between them, but he gave no support to her protest.
The room was ghostly quiet. Mikael took a drink from his chalice. Norah took a bite of the marinated meat. Mikael was right. The food was good here. And it was the only thing helping her get through this conversation.
“I think I’ll retire,” Salara-Mae said, pushing back her chair and rising.
“You haven’t eaten,” Mikael said.
“I’m not feeling well. I’ll take something later, in my room, if my appetite returns.”
“I trust you’ll be better tomorrow after you’ve rested.”
She looked at him coldly. “I seriously doubt it.” Despite her abhorrence to the idea of their marriage, she wasn’t without etiquette, and she gave a small bow to Norah. “Your Majesty.”
