Читать книгу Frozen - Morgan Q O'Reilly - Страница 8

Chapter 4

It was rather funny, actually, watching Gunnar’s face as he digested the information. First his amazingly deep blue eyes sparked with a flash of silver glitter, so eerily similar to the old bishop’s, she shivered. Then his pale skin warmed to a mottled red before fading again. If he clenched his jaw any tighter he’d probably break some teeth. It only took a minute for him to draw in a deep breath and regain control. It usually took her father much longer. Just one detail she’d noticed about him the times they’d communicated by vid-com over the last few years. Once, she’d timed Fader at three minutes.

She sipped the rather excellent wine but, if he was a duke, as the man over the communicator had confirmed, then it was only to be expected. A nice touch. Had he been planning on seducing her? Now there was something to laugh about. Instead she smiled as sweetly as possible and took another sip of wine.

“Did you say we’re having stew for dinner? It smells delicious,” she cooed, and smirked when his jaw clenched again.

“Yes, Your Highness. Let me get you a bowl. Would you like bread with that?”

“Why thank you, Duke Zaren, that would be lovely.”

His movements were stiff as he held out the bowl and spoon to her. “It might be easier to eat if you shrug off the parka,” he suggested. “Your Highness.”

She paused for a moment, testing the warmth of the air with her nose. It did feel warmer. She nodded and unzipped the coat before sliding her arms from the sleeves. Leaving it behind her was enough to keep her cozy and allow her movement as she took the bowl from him.

“Thank you, kind sir.” See? She still remembered her manners.

Apparently he did as well and executed a short, sharp bow in response. It only took a moment for him to hand her a hunk of soft fresh bread before he returned to his seat with his own dinner.

Hungry, she didn’t feel a need to fill the silence with inane chatter. With her eyes closed she savored a bite of the bread dipped in the gravy. One more little thing she’d missed without realizing it. Ryadstholm bakers were the best, next to the palace kitchen staff. Must have been baked this morning.

“Reindeer?” she asked. “Northern herd?”

He nodded in response, his mouth full.

“Delicious.” She returned to her meal stopping only to drink the wine. He refilled her mug without prompting and she gave him her sweetest smile in thanks. It was damn awkward, now he knew who she was. A real conversation killer. Not that they’d had any good conversation yet. Now he’d be even more close-mouthed. A pity. Then again, maybe she’d get some more sleep. Maybe now her cover was blown she could call for a real transport to get home sooner.

His rough voice and sharply asked question broke into her thoughts. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you leave? Why is your name never spoken? Why is it no one knows about you?”

She gazed at his eyes cautiously. No silver glitter now. Ah, the silver indicated his power to squeeze information? Good to know. Now he only looked curious, possibly even a little hurt. Because he wasn’t privy to the state secret?

“Well.” She set down her empty bowl and picked up the wine. “I suppose it started out innocently enough. I’m the elder by just a few minutes, but Coreen should have been born first. She loves this place and she’s a born politician. Fader’s true daughter. Me, I’m just an accident of birth and birth order.” She looked away from his frown.

“But why? Why did they let people believe you didn’t exist at all?”

“I actually prefer it that way. And with all those silly names running around—can you imagine ten Oreens?—it was just easier for me to hide away. Also, Fader kept muttering something about the perfect security setup.”

Gunnar nodded. “I can see that,” he admitted grudgingly. “Does that explain why there’s only one of you in the family portraits?”

She nodded. “And why one of us was always kept in the nursery. They swapped us out, but Coreen did better in public than I did.”

Gunnar gave her an odd grin. Good thing he didn’t keep her wondering about it for long.

“I saw a news piece on the vid-com. I must have been about six and I remember seeing your father pick you up during a parade. You were in tears. It was you, not your sister, right?”

She felt the flush burn across her cheeks. “Oh my, I was four at the time and it was so very noisy. I was terrified.”

“But instead of handing you off to a nanny or a bodyguard, your father picked you up and held you.”

Noreen smiled. “Yes, he did. I remember it very well. He promised me I’d never have to attend another noisy parade if I quit crying. He made me feel so safe.”

“I remember. He held you close and then you turned around, arms around his neck, legs around his waist and rested your head against his. The camera zoomed in on your smile as you tried to look so brave.”

She ducked her head. While embarrassing to say the least, it was one of many times she remembered her father protecting and comforting her and only her. There was a tiny catch in her breath as her heart swelled for a moment, only to crash a moment later heavy with guilt. “He’s a good father,” she said quietly.

“He’s a good monarch.”

She nodded in agreement. All the more reason for her to abdicate. Only Cory could take his place. When Gunnar didn’t speak she looked up and was surprised to see anger in his face.

“What?” she asked.

“Why did you leave?”

“Why does that make you angry,” she countered.

“Because…it has to be…you…you’re…The One.”

Damn, he put that together fast. Then again, the Thor’s Hammer thing had just, well, hammered that little fact into place. A flash of ice raced through her veins and she felt a moment of fear as she gulped. His eyes flashed angrily and hands clenched around the empty bowl he still held.

“It hasn’t been proven. Just a silly legend.” She tried to laugh off her discomfort.

Gunnar set down his bowl with careful deliberation. “No. It isn’t a silly legend. My grandfather told me…” his voice faded out.

“Your grandfather told you what?” She leaned back in her seat as his burning eyes rose to hers. She could only stare back as he took the mug of wine from her numb fingers and set it aside. He didn’t need to use the silver glitter to compel her to rise from her seat, leaving the parka to fall from her shoulders.

She only felt the cool air for a moment before he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. Too shocked to protest, she gripped his shoulders as he bent her backward ever so gently, his lips warm against hers. Soft. And the perfect fullness. His long fingered hand slid up her back and into her hair at the base of her thick braid coiled at her nape. Moving with far more experience than she expected, he yanked out the pins holding her hair in place. Pulling the final pin, his lips took advantage of her distraction and opened her mouth.

A tiny squeak of surprise escaped her throat and she dug her fingernails into his biceps when he pulled her closer, his tongue plundering her mouth. How dare he? It was the last thought she had as his hand stroked her back, something tugging on the end of her braid. Hungry for more, she leaned into him, slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer yet.

Breathing hard by the time he broke the kiss, she abstractly felt his fingers weave through her hair, smoothing the waist length tresses as if he’d never touched hair before. His lips on her cheek, then jaw, then earlobe were doing amazing things to her blood. The small cabin, which had been so cold before, now felt as if it were the very center of a blazing furnace.

Hands smoothly unclasped the shoulder straps of her overalls and they slid down her silk encased body.

“Nory,” he murmured against her throat.

It was on her lips to answer with a yes when the com-link squawked again.

“Duke Nordenskiold?” The disembodied voice cut through the haze of desire.

Gunnar pulled her close and rested his chin on her head for a moment.

“Your Grace, come in?” The voice enquired again.

“Remind me to smash this thing,” he muttered to her, then grabbed the handset.

“This better be good,” he growled at the poor person on the other end.

“Sorry, sir, but there’s a communication coming through from the palace, sir. The king himself.”

Noreen felt her heart flop over at the words and rested her head against Gunnar’s chest. She smiled weakly when he kissed the top of her head.

“Put it through.” There were a few clicks then he spoke again, “Zaren here.”

“Gunnar, my boy? Is that you?”

Noreen followed Gunnar’s urging when he sank down onto his seat and tugged her along. She stopped just long enough to pull her overalls up again then sat on his lap.

“Yes, sir, it’s me. What can I do for you, sir?”

“I understand you picked up an important package today. Is the package in good condition?”

Noreen grabbed the handset and answered for herself. “So much for the surprise,” she snorted. “Package indeed.”

“Princess.” The relief was clear in his voice.

“Hiya, King,” she joked back.

“You’re home. Your moder will be so pleased.”

Noreen glanced at Gunnar and rolled her eyes. She was only surprised she didn’t get the royal We.

“I see you arranged the nice weather to really make me feel as if I never left,” she commented, glancing out the window. The large transport in front blocked the view but they could still see to either side and it didn’t look good. The wind had picked up and snow was blowing horizontally. Fast. She shivered as if each burning snowflake pelted her, each howl of the wind like the screeching of a poorly tuned Ooorodian harp.

“Only for you, älskling,” he chuckled.

“How did you find out?”

“There are certain people who can’t keep a state secret to save their lives, which is why we usually don’t include them on the need-to-know list.”

“You caught Moder getting my rooms ready, didn’t you?”

“Yep!” he chortled, then coughed. “Among other little clues.”

“What was that?” she asked him sharply.

“Just a little cough, nothing to worry about, Princess.”

She glanced at Gunnar who gave her a little shrug. “I understand this little trip will take three days, so you’ll see the brown of my eyes day after tomorrow.”

“Brown?”

“I changed my eye color.”

“Lenses, right? They’d better be temporary. What else did you do?”

“I’m not going to spoil the surprise. You won’t recognize me. Nobody else did.”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” her father warned.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve had me followed since the day I left. I know all about your spies. I bribed them to keep quiet.”

“I pay them better,” he laughed. “Just tell Zaren to be careful, there’s a storm blowing in and you all might want to circle up the convoy and let it blow over. Too bad you aren’t thirty klicks further along, there’s a spot where you could pull over and keep toasty warm.”

“Speaking of the good duke, what is your opinion of the man? Is he to be trusted?”

“I trust him with my most precious treasure.”

Noreen felt a rush of warmth as Gunnar squeezed her waist. “You let Cory date him?”

“Funny. Let’s just say I trust him far more than I trust someone calling himself the Lidarian Minister of Agriculture who’s been banging on the Ryadstholm office doors since early this morning wanting to know where you are. Prince Somebody or other.”

“Hollis Traxelgard is here?” She swallowed the squeak that snuck out and ignored Gunnar’s sharp glance.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes, but I didn’t expect to see him again so soon. I mean, we have a date, but not for eight weeks. And then I’m supposed to be back on Lidaria. I had no idea he’d ever follow me here.”

“Well it seems he’s under the impression you wanted to see him much sooner. He’s all but threatened an invasion to find you.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what lit a fire under his tail.” Actually, she did, but she wasn’t about to tell her father, or Gunnar, about that. She hadn’t known until too late that certain…acts…were the equivalent of a marriage ceremony on Lidaria. “I thought he understood,” she sighed. Men. Always hearing only what they wanted to hear.

“Apparently he didn’t. Does he know your bodyguard on sight?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have Hans convince him you’re safe and sound.”

That sounded ominous. “If it doesn’t work I’ll talk to him by vid-com when I reach home.”

“Älskling…” Her father drew in a deep breath. “I have to ask but, did you, call upon… you know, a little while ago?”

“Um, you mean the clap thingy?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yeah, dukey here was trying to compel me into revealing state secrets.”

“Ah, then that explains things.”

“What things?” She’d never heard of a side effect of using the clap. In fact, she’d never used it before.

“Well, the storm for starters. There’s also been a little excitement in the palace.”

Noreen frowned. “What kind of excitement?”

“I’ll tell you when you get home. Call when the storm blows over. Oh, and Princess, you remember The Profetia, right?”

She heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes. How could I ever forget? What about it?”

“Let’s just say your destiny is at hand. Trust your heart to keep you warm.”

“More riddles.” She snorted in disgust. “Yes, Pappa.”

“Oh, Gunnar? Make the most of the storm,” her father chuckled. “Check in when you can to let us know you’re okay. We have your current position noted.”

“Fader? What do you mean?” she asked using her most imperial voice. The one most often used for over-eager cabana boys who thought she was an easy target. And over-zealous Princes of Lidaria.

“It’s time to fulfill your part of The Profetia, sweetling.”

“Pappa? It sounded suspiciously like you just gave me away.”

“Not me, Princess.” Her father laughed while her veins frosted over. “Odin. Your union has been heaven-blessed from the beginning. The gods are tired of waiting for the next heir. And, frankly, so am I. As are a few other people. We’ll have a formal ceremony in a few weeks, but for all intents and purposes, I now pronounce you married.”

“To whom?” She had to try one last time even though she knew the answer.

“Why Gunnar there, of course! Which adds another Duchess title to your name, but, for all legal purposes, that now makes him Prince Consort Audelhuk. We’ll deal with the particulars and official paperwork later.”

“Fader,” she growled in the tone that usually made him back down. The shock invading her system was all the more unsettling because of his next words.

“Gunnar, don’t hold it against her. It isn’t her fault. Please keep that in mind. I know you know what you have to do, but temper your actions with the knowledge that I created this problem. She’s only living up to how she was raised. She doesn’t know anything else.”

Before she could ask what he was talking about Gunnar took the handset from her and replied, “Yes, sir. I need to check in with my convoy so we’re ready when the storm really hits. It’s building up a good blow as we speak.”

“Make the gods happy, you two.” With a final crackle of static, the king was gone.

“Sweetheart, älskling,” Gunnar murmured, his lips on her throat again. “Would you, please, put the stew pot in the fridge and then get ready for bed? It’s the safest spot to ride out a blow.”

“Excuse me?” Heart pounding in her throat, she tried to lean away from him but he just held her closer.

“We need to prepare for the storm. Once the hatches are battened down, we’ll talk. Okay?”

She nodded numbly. It wasn’t the chore she objected to, but rather the ever-so-very-clear implication he was about to bed her.

He gave her a brief kiss and a squeeze, then turned to the com-link.