Page 123 of North Queen
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.”
She pushed a breath out to slow her heart. The name didn’t even bother her. She just needed to be angry at something—at him. She needed the anger. It was the only thing holding her together. A soldier returned with another bowl of soup, and Mikael held it out to her.
Her eyes welled, and she took it.
“Do you want some bread?” he asked.
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she shook her head.
He gave a gentle smile and sat down beside her. Then he held out a bread roll.
Another tear fell as she took it, but there was a warmth about him that surprised her, and settled her.
He sat in silence with her as she ate the bread and drained the second helping of soup. She could have downed a third, but she didn’t dare say it. When she’d finished, he said, “My kingdom has good food.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s important to you, yes?”
She wiped her lips and held her empty bowl. “What?”
He shrugged. “You eat a lot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged again. “That you eat a lot.”
She stared at him. Was that a bad thing? She ate like a perfectly normal person. Yes, Alexander may have occasionally teased her…
She jerked.Alexander.They’d be heading back to Mercia. She set the bowl down. “Have they departed?”
“They’re preparing now. Go to the cliff. You’ll see them.”
Norah rose quickly from the bed. As she pulled on her cloak, the fastening caught in her hair. She tried to pull it free, but it held in the braid. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she fumbled with it in front of him. He rose and stepped forward, stopping her. Gently, he untangled the locks from the clasp and straightened the cloak over her shoulders.
She wavered for a moment. “Thank you,” she breathed. Their gazes caught each other, and they stilled. The darks of his eyes held her, quieted her.
Alexander,she remembered.
She peeled herself away, and then she ducked out of the tent, hurrying toward the cliff and freeing her tresses from the disheveled braid as she went. She reached the edge, out of breath. The wind blew her hair wildly around her as she looked down at her army. She saw the horses and the wagons of food the Shadow army had delivered.
And she saw Alexander.
He was already mounted on his horse, conferring with his soldiers. One pointed up at her and he spun to see her.
The army started their march. The cold of the wind burned her skin, but she stayed and watched them leave. Alexander waited for the last soldier to depart, still looking up at her. He raised his sword to her—a silent vow. With a last longing look, he turned to join the army back to Mercia.
Norah made her way to her tent. She expected another rush of emotion to come. But it didn’t. Perhaps the weight of everything had taken all the emotion. Maybe she had nothing left. She reached the tent where the king still waited inside.
“We’ll depart shortly,” he told her.
“I’d like to change, if that’s all right.” Tahla had given her a leather-and-linen layered dress to meet her army, and like Mercian dresses, it wasn’t made with comfort in mind. She’d rather wear the riding dress for the journey to the Shadowlands.
“Of course,” he said with a small nod, and stepped out to tend his army.
