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Chapter Text

It was well into the afternoon when King Harald sat sickly in his chamber. The sun shone through the tall windows, and the weather was lovely. Spring was near in Denmark, and flowers began to blossom, while the grass defrosted, making the royal gardens a true sight. Instead of sitting outside and listening to a minstrel declaring his love for the princess through poetry and the playing of a harp, Eira sat next to her dying father, reading his beloved Poetry to his grace.

Harald was quite young when he became a father at the age of sixteen. It was never expected that he´d be awaiting his deathbed so soon. Eiras´ mother died from sickness shortly after her labor and the king never took another wife or mistress, therefore she never grew up with a mother figure. Harald tried his best to raise her well, though they didn´t spend much time together.

How she despised royal duties.

Eira sat on a stool next to the king, an open book in her hand from which she read poems out loud. Most of them were about the love of god and Jesus' sacrifice for the human race. Eira believed none of the things that came out of her mouth. Around her neck hung the cross necklace which reminded her daily of her duties as a princess. Everything was decided for her; how she dressed, how she spoke, and even what her beliefs were.

As the compliant daughter she was, Eira did everything she was asked of and even entertained ladies of the Kingdom, as well as potential lord husbands of her. She was the perfect heir; a dutiful royal, a skilled archer, interested in history and politics, and a helpful child.

If only she had been born with a cock between her legs…

It made her somewhat bitter; no matter how hard she tried to impress her father, that man was keen on making his brother his heir.

Canute, a name that would have been almost foreign to her, if his grace hadn´t been speaking so often about him. She had only met him a handful of times when she was a mere child. She could faintly remember those times, when Eira walked through the gardens with Canute, sometimes even running away from him so the shy teenager would chase her.

She didn´t understand, how could Harald see that meek person as a potential king of Denmark. Was it only because of what was between Canute's legs, something that Eira lacked? Of Course, she knew her uncle got crowned the king of England, though she couldn´t quite believe that to be the same man from her memories.

Nevertheless, Eira never spoke her thoughts out loud, not in the king's presence at least. She didn´t want him to think of her as a defiant, ungrateful, and spoiled child. After all, she was his sweet princess, his only child, and the last memory of his beloved wife.

"Look on my deeds and when my time comes, to run the-" Eira got interrupted by a violent coughing fit from the king, who held his eyes shut and clutched his chest. Eira quickly closed the book, forgetting to mark the page before gripping her father's hand.

"Shall I fetch the physician, Father?" Concern was written all over her face, as she held her palm to his forehead. The king wasn´t able to answer himself, so the princess quickly told one of the guards to call the physician over.

Eira watched her father trying to control himself, only being able to watch. It was pathetic, truly. Eira was named by her mother after the goddess of healing and here she sat, soon having lost both of her parents from sickness. Eira wasn´t worthy of her name, she always told herself.

That must be why the king doesn´t see her as a worthy heir, correct?

Soon, the physician entered the king's chambers and began to treat him. Everyone knew there was no way the king would survive. The physician at least tried to extend his lifetime by a bit.

Eira took the book from her lap, clutched it to her chest, and watched her father as she slowly left the room. It was unnecessary to cry, she told herself. The inevitable would soon come and Eira would just have to accept that. After that, her uncle would be crowned as king of Denmark, while Eira would be shipped off to some lord's castle and then be turned into a royal broodmare, despite being the king's true heir by blood.

A truly bitter life she had.

As Eira walked through the halls, accompanied by a knight who walked five feet behind her, she was greeted by her aunt Estrid. "Eira!", she exclaimed happily as she embraced her niece. Due to their small age gap- Estrid only being three years her senior- their relationship was more comparable to the one of cousins. While Estrid was a cheerful and sweet girl, she did not have many friends; her ladies-in-waiting preferred to converse without the princess, for she was far too childlike.

Eira felt compassionate and she wasn´t much of a speaker herself, nor was she fond of her dull ladies-in-waiting. Therefore, Eira spent time with her aunt since Estrid talked for the both of them. The girl could often shut out in her aunt's presence and get rid of the thoughts that plagued her mind. Even if Eira was using Estrid´s friendliness and naivety for personal gain, the princess had found a liking to her. Whether it was because they were closely related or because she spent lots of time with her, she did feel a strong need to be loyal to her companion.

Reciprocating the hug, Eira gave her a small smile. Estrid glanced in the direction the princess came from and then frowned slightly."How is he?"

Eira winced internally at the mention of her father's well-being, partially blaming herself for his fate. "His graces´ coughing fits get more frequent. I do not believe there is much time left." Eira was glad there was enough time to come to peace with this outcome. It would have been far worse if he´d died suddenly, changing her fate in one swift motion. This way, Eira could at least prepare for her fate.

Estrids hold on her niece became tighter, leaning into her ear: "I feel miserable. I cannot imagine what you´re going through"

The corners of Eiras mouth twitched downwards and her brows were furrowed. "Were you just on your way to the king?", Eira asked. She didn´t wish to talk about the subject at hand anymore.

"Indeed, I was going to catch up with him a bit", the princess's gorgeous smile returned. With a frown, Eira answered her:" Now is an unsuitable time, I´m afraid. The physician is currently treating him."

"Oh! Well, then we should take a stroll through the gardens!"

Sure, anything to take her mind off of her problems. "A splendid idea", Eira replied. Taking ahold of the girl's hand, Estrid eagerly walked outside. Eira was basically pulled with her, trying hard to keep up with the cheerful princess. "You are awfully happy today", she acknowledged. The girl in front of her turned and elaborated.

"Canute will arrive shortly at the castle and I haven´t seen him in a very long time!", she exclaimed. Surprised was she not, for it was clear that Canute would be here soon to be crowned as the new king. Just the thought alone of the man who stole her birthright already agitated the princess.

Eira forced herself to answer. "I have only faint memories of my uncle, though I am excited to see him." Estrid grinned at her niece's words and ushered her to walk with her.

Different varieties of flowers decorated the grass field, reminding the pair somewhat of a rainbow. It smelt of lavender and roses, comforting Eira. She walked towards the lilies and plucked one, placing it behind her aunt's ear, from which she earned a blush. "Getting shy easily, are we?", she jested.

"N-No, I was merely caught off guard, ´tis all", Estrid flushed. "I wonder how you are not promised to someone yet; you are charmed easily!" Estrid smirked at the playful slap she received on her wrist. "But I do not get persuaded that quickly", Estrid replied while crossing her arms. "Surely you don´t" Eira rolled her eyes.

"Since we are already at the subject", Estrid began. "When do you plan to be wed? The men at the council are eager to plan a betrothal for you." Urgh, disgusting old pigs that cannot wait to drown their cocks into a young princess and breed her, how great. "When I´ve found a suitable betrothed", Eira answered, from which she got the raise of an eyebrow. "You are already of age and they´re becoming impatient. It´s your duty to the kingdom." It was truly unfair, only because Eira was the king's daughter and the ´spare´ heir, did she quickly have to produce children for her succession, while Estrid herself was never rushed into any of it.

"I still have time to ponder on the matter. Don´t worry." With a shrug of a shoulder, Estrid answered her:" If you say so."

The pair then walked to their favorite spot in the garden under a tree. It was the only time in the day when Eira could be free from her duties, relaxing in the gardens with her dear aunt. While Estrid sat down, Eira rested her head on her aunt's lap. With a content sigh, she opened the poem book her father had gifted her. "You weren´t at today's sewing lesson", Estrid addressed. Eira groaned at her words. "Yes, and? Why should I learn how to sew if I could rather enjoy the teachings of philosophy?"

"It doesn´t matter if those subjects interest you or not, you have to attend them. Besides, you left me alone at the lesson", she pouted at the girl in her lap.

Eira truly couldn´t understand why women of royalty had to learn useless things about embroidery or other practices that a princess herself never had to use. Was it because women were less intelligent, the weaker sex? Which in her opinion, was an absurd argument; men would never be able to outlive the pain of childbirth, nor the cramps of lunar bleedings.

"I´m truly sorry, I was rather engrossed in a few books that caught my interest." Estrid threw her head back at her niece's words. "You spend way too much time in that library. Refresh my memory, which language are you currently learning, besides the other three that you already speak?"

"Well, besides having myself taught Welsh and English, I´m now learning high German", Eira proudly patted herself on the shoulder. The girl beneath her giggled at Eiras antics and glanced at the blue cover of the book in her hand. "What book is that?"

"Father gave it to me on my thirteenth name day, it was from his old book collections. Some of his favorite poems are written in it, though most of the themes do not catch my interest all that much."

"then why do you always carry it with you?", Estrid furrowed her brows. Eiras gaze met the one of Estrid, her eyes narrowing slightly at the memories that flooded her mind.

When Harald had enough time left, he´d spend his afternoons with his daughter in the library, always reading her the poems from that blue book. It was the biggest association she had with her father, therefore she was always adamant about the king reading the poems out loud. On her name day, the king gifted her the book; since then, Eira always read to her father. Their time constantly shared in the library, was partially the reason why she spent most of her time in it.

"Father likes to listen while I read from it", she replied hesitantly, though Estrid didn´t seem to notice that. "The king truly is a lucky Father" She smiled softly at the young princess.

Eira smiled bitterly. "I don´t think he realizes that", whispered thoughtfully. It seemed like Harald never saw the things she did only to impress his grace. He just never really focused on her as an individual. Eira felt somewhat neglected by him. She wondered; would it have been different if she´d had a different gender? Would the king treat her differently if she was born a boy instead of a girl? She could only theorize, though it hurt her feelings to know that it could have been true.

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Canute sat on a stool, sleeping—an open book laid in his lap while a thin Cloth was covering his face. Soft snores filled the silence inside the study. Dozens of books were littered across the desk and on the Floor; the room was unorganized, to say in short.

A bald man with dark facial hair stood in front of the door to the king's study, waiting a short moment before knocking. "Excuse me, your Majesty", the thin man called out. "The ship will arrive at Jelling shortly", he informed the king. "Please wake up, your Majesty", he added.

As the words rang through his ears, the king of England pulled the white cloth from his face and readied himself for his arrival. He´d soon be crowned as the king of Denmark and would take over the reign from his older brother. From then on he´d change the world, creating a paradise for Vikings. Though it would be a long process and his wish might not be granted during his lifetime, Canute was eager to take the first step. He had already taken drastic measures to do that, for example assassinating his father or poisoning his dear brother.

Of course, he felt bad, there was no denying that. He didn´t have a great relationship with his father, though they were still relatives and Canute did learn a lot from King Sweyn. And his brother Harald, his dear brother…

He truly felt disgusted with himself for doing that to him; he didn´t deserve it. Harald is a great man currently lying on his deathbed- because of his brother. Canute was sure he´d never get over that, his mental health was already spiraling downhill. The only person he spoke daily with was his beheaded father.

And now, there was another threat to his plan; Princess Eira. She is the only heir by the blood of King Harald, even if female, there was a possibility that a revolution would start at Canute's ascension. If people believed she was the rightful heir to the throne, his reign would end in bloodshed. To prevent that and strengthen his claim to the throne, he planned to wed his niece soon after his coronation. When he said that he´d take drastic measures to ensure the fulfillment of his plan, he did not mean for it to be taken lightly.

Chapter Text

"Bullseye!" Eira exclaimed as the arrowhead forced its way into the middle point of the target. The princess was at the royal training grounds, practicing archery with her teacher, Wulf. "Good Job, princess," the man next to her said lowly.

He had already moved the targets several feet from the usually practiced distance, for it was too easy to hit her target perfectly. The princess´ hands were already slightly bruised from her tight grip on the bow´s handle. Eira gazed at her palm, seeing the forming splitters. The man beside her seemed to notice this and walked to her. "Your grip is too strong."

He then went behind her and clasped his hand around hers on the handle, his other holding her arm. "Try to stabilize your strength on both arms." His hot breath tickled her, giving her goosebumps. "This way, you won´t unconsciously grip the bow too hard", he added while guiding her arm to let go of the arrow, hitting the next target. "Try to practice more on your stance, princess."

Eira nodded, doing her best to concentrate on Wulfs´ instructions and ignore how he influenced her emotions. She fixed her stance, immediately noticing the difference; her hand didn´t feel that tense anymore. "That´s good", he praised the princess. Eira nodded before turning to her Right, Shooting the target on a branch. Wulf encouragely patted her back, to which Eira gave him an embarrassed smile, her cheeks reddening.

"I must ask to be excused now, Your Highness. I must pay King Harald a visit before meeting with the English king." Eira pouted but agreed nonetheless. "I must also get out of these training clothes and take a bath." A squire recollected the arrows from the princess, bringing them back to her. Those arrows were not ordinary but rather special; her father had let them be crafted for Eiras tenth nameday when she spoke of her wish to be an archer.

She thanked the young squire and walked back to the castle, Wulf accompanying her. The two walked together in silence before Eira decided to strike up a conversation. "Do you think the kingdom will drastically change after my father´s death?"

The man scratched his beard while answering:" I cannot say, princess. Though King Canute is a different man, therefore there will be changes, even if only a few." Eira bit her lip, shifting her gaze to the bottom of her dressing gown. "Do not fret, Your Highness. I can assure you that King Canute is wise beyond his years. Denmark will change for the better."

The two stood in the middle of the hallway, pausing before parting their ways. "I trust your judgment", Eira spoke softly, assuring herself of his words. Wulf then nodded, bowing before walking oppositely.

As the princess arrived in her chamber, a slave was already waiting for her to draw a bath. It was an elderly woman. "Good afternoon, Your Highness", she greeted while bowing. "Hello, Gertrud", the princess replied. Eira got rid of her gown as the maid drew her bath, adding a few oils and herbs. Slowly but surely, Eira sat down in the tub, entering with one foot first, before adding the second. The water was hot, just how Eira liked it the most. The warmth soothed her aching muscles after training. The water was steaming and the scent of lavender filled her nostrils, making her somewhat sleepy.

Quickly, she undid her braid and combed through her wet hair, sighing softly as the woman scrambled through a few books, before ultimately choosing one, grabbing it as she sat next to the princess. "Do you wish to read the book from Marcus Aurelius?"

"Yes, please continue on the marked page", Eira replied. She then slowly slid her entire head into the water, holding her breath. Muffled sounds of paper filled the quiet room, halting for a moment before Gertrud´s voice filled the silence.

"I have often wondered how it should come to pass, that every man loving himself best, should more regard other men's opinions concerning himself than his own. For if any God or grave master standing by, should command any of us to think nothing by himself but what he should presently speak out; no man was able to endure it, though but for one day. Thus do we fear more what our neighbors will think of us, than what we ourselves."

Eira resurfaced, her brows furrowing. She didn´t agree with what the emperor wrote. Especially as a royal, you had to rely on others and what they thought of you. If you are the leading force of a realm, the people of the realm should agree with your ethics or at least respect them. Regardless if they´re of noble birth or common folk; without them, feudalism couldn´t work and the crown would be worth nothing.

Her philosophy teacher told her to read a book by the roman emperor Marcus Aurelius and adapt his knowledge to her daily life. How could she do this if she didn´t agree with his perspective and opinions? The more she read his works, the more frustrated Eira became.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" Gertrud noticed the pained expression Eira had. The princess wiped the water from her face, slicking her hair back before turning to the elderly woman. "Yes, why do you ask?"

The woman carefully closed the book and folded her hands in her lap. "I cannot help but notice your distress lately…" She hesitated, keeping her thoughts away.

"Continue", the princess rested her chin on the side of the bathtub, meeting the servant's gaze. "I understand how it feels for one´s birthright to be taken from one", Gertrud replied. She looked to the side and her jaw tensed slightly. "Is that how you became a slave?", the princess bluntly questioned.

"Yes. I was born of noble birth, enjoying the privileged life of a lady before my house got usurped by a rivaling lord. My relatives were... either executed or enslaved", she elaborated.

Eiras´ eyes widened as she heard those words. "That must have been a harsh change of life", she replied thoughtfully. "Indeed", the woman muttered. "I knew you were no commoner; you have great education and manners but I never gave much thought to it", Eira mumbled, avoiding the woman's gaze, feeling ashamed.

"Do not feel sorry, you have no fault for what happened to me, Your Highness." Gertrud smiled at the princess, her mood lightening up.

The servant then poured a few droplets of oil onto the girl´s hair, massaging it on her scalp before washing it out. Eira tried to relax into the soft touch of the woman, though she could find no comfort in it. Afterward, Gertrud helped the princess dress into a blue evening gown and braided the girls´ hair. Dismissing her, Eira grabbed the book with the blue cover and left her chambers.

"Your Highness", a guard bowed and followed her to the king´s chambers. When she arrived, she slowly opened the door and peeked inside the room. A few candles were lit and as usual, the sun shone through the windows, lightening up the room. It smelt of herbs and medicine, along with the metallic scent of blood. Closing the door behind her, Eira slowly sat next to the king who was taking harsh and deep breaths.

"Father", she softly called out to him, taking his hand and caressing it. "Eira", he replied quietly, his gaze meeting hers. "How are you feeling, father?" The king didn´t answer but instead, his gaze was fixated on something. Her eyes followed his, landing on dozens of bloody tissues that looked freshly used.

Eira squeezed his hand, frowning at his state. "Before I pass, I wish for you to have your mother´s belongings. A chest should be inside the third drawer", Harald spoke slowly, finding strength in his words.

She never had any of her mother's possessions, nothing to remember her by, so she practically beamed with joy at hearing her father´s words. Eira then went to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and grabbed the chest inside. It was heavy, laced with golden patterns. She kissed the king´s forehead before opening the mysterious chest. Inside were different types of jewelry.

"Those were very dear to her, wear them with pride"

Nodding, she took one necklace in particular that caught her eye. It was a silver necklace with a pendant; the Norse symbol for healing, an eight-spoked wheel with a rune in the center.

"Your mother let it be crafted when she was pregnant. She wanted something special for Eirs´ namesake", her father explained as his daughter curiously analyzed the necklace.

"Thank you." She felt a bit hesitant to wear the necklace, Eira didn´t want to embrace something she was not worthy of, something she failed to do. Though the fact that this was the only gift from her mother Eira had, she felt the need to wear it daily.

She bit her lip as she pulled her hair to the side, taking off the Christian necklace that clung to her chest, replacing it with a more fitting piece of jewelry, a piece of her origin.

Eira grinned at him, putting the chest to the side as she opened her book. "Has Wulf visited you yet?"

The king nodded, keeping his gaze on the necklace.

Eira then took notice of the book in her lap. Picking it up, she swiftly turned dozens of pages before halting on one, reading its´ content out loud.

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Several ships arrived at Jelling, encircling the entire sea. The cold air immediately made Canute shiver as he crossed the walkway, halting in front of a market. Several booths were squeezed together, and lots of salesmen and women had exotic products on display. From rugs made in Norway to Spanish leather; the market was full of diversity. Several people stood in the queue, desperate to waste their money on overpriced goods.

Canute watched a group of children playing a ball game, dwelling in nostalgia as he thought back to the times his brother trained him in the Sport. It was one of his favorite activities, besides cooking.

The harsh wind whipped through the king's hair while his gaze was kept on the Group of Children. The bald man from earlier followed him, calling out to Canute. "Your Majesty!"

"You were here, I see. The horses will be ready soon, please wait in the cabin."

Canute did not turn when he replied. "I´m fine here. I haven´t been home in a while, I want to enjoy the breeze."

Wulf, in tow with another man, walked towards the king. "Your Majesty, I am glad to see that you arrived home safely from England." His eyes were closed as he bowed, keeping a neutral Expression. Canute then turned for the first time, Meeting face-to-face with the scarred man.

"Yes. Wulf, how is my brother, the king, doing?"

The man raised his head again and sighed. "King Harald´s condition is not very good. His illness has worsened in the past month. Now, it is difficult for him to even speak" He opened his eyes as he replied.

Canute then turned away from him, thoughtfully staring off into the distance. "I see. How long does he have left?"

"According to his physician, the next few days will be the most critical stage", he replied. Voices of yelling children rang through the men's ears, discomforting the bald man named Gunnar.

"Alright. Good work on paying him a visit as my representative", the king praised, to which Wulf bowed. "Of course."

One of the children accidentally threw a pouch in front of the king. As Canute went to pick it up, the item suddenly changed into his father´s head, frightening the king. His eyes widened and his lips parted, inhaling irregularly.

"Play somewhere else!", Wulf exclaimed as he stood in front of the king. A child then walked forward and hurriedly apologized, picking up the Pouch before walking back to its peers.

Wulf continued to watch the group and began to speak to the young man next to him. "My goodness, children are so carefree." He turned to the king who was holding a hand to his face. Seeing his distressed state, he asked what the matter was.

"´tis nothing", he sternly answered.

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As the princess continued to read the few lines of a short poem to her father, Estrid entered the chambers. She looked around the room shortly before her eyes ultimately fell on the princess, her face lightening up. "Eira! I knew you´d be here!" Her gaze then shifted to the sleeping man on the bed, frowning at him. She sat next to her niece, taking notice of the new necklace around her collarbone.

"This sickness is draining him completely", Eira muttered under her breath.

Seeing the book in her lap, Estrid smiled softly at her niece´s thoughtfulness. "Gorgeous necklace you have there", she complimented. Eira smiled, absently taking hold of the pendant. "It was my mother´s." Estrid then took her free hand, caressing it softly; similar to the gesture Eira did to the king. "Well it most definitely suits you!", she grinned at her. Estrid admired the princess´s ability to care for others in such a hard time when she needed someone to take care of herself too.

"I almost had hope you´d show up at the embroidery lesson today", she joked. Earning an eye roll from her friend, Estrid chuckled. "I saw you at the training grounds today. I couldn´t help but notice the close proximity between you and Wulf!", she teased.

Flushing from embarrassment, Eira held a hand to her cheek, trying to regulate the heat rising to her face. "Shut up." Estrid began to cackle at her friend's sudden shyness. "You are blushing." She giggled like a child. Knowing this was a rare moment to find Eira flustered, she had to use it to her advantage.

"God, you´re insufferable", Eira groaned, throwing her head back. At the exact moment, the doors were opened and King Canute entered, a few men, along with Wulf, accompanied him. The redness from her face immediately vanished, growing pale instead.

Her uncle looked entirely different from what she remembered; he appeared to be more confident in his step, and his looks were more masculine now, resembling the image of a true king. His expression was stern and his hair was cut short, a drastic change from his juvenile years. His cheek was grazed with a scar, adding to his changed appearance. When her gaze fell on him, she did not recognize him at all, he seemed like a different person altogether.

The hairs on her neck stood up as he made his way to the king's bed, instirring the primal fear in her. Her aunts´ reaction was entirely different though. Her eyes widened, and a surprised gasp escaped her. "Canute, my brother!" She smiled at him, quick to stand to her feet and join him. Eira kept quiet, not wanting any unnecessary attention on her. Though unknown to her, Canute has already noticed her from the corner of his eye. The last time he saw her, she was but a child. Now she was a woman grown.

"Adress me as king, Estrid", his cold voice rang through her ears. "I didn´t expect your visit. What a nice surprise", she smiled, ignoring his remark. Canute held a hand to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. "It has been a while, King Harald", his voice was quiet, even soft as he spoke to his sleeping brother. When the king didn´t respond, Estrid lowered down to his face, speaking quietly.

"Harald, Canute has come to visit", she spoke with a smile on her face. Can you recognize him?", she added.

"I do not", Eira thought bitterly. Though still wary of him, she noticed how her demeanor became more hostile than before, her resentment for her uncle not hiding from its shadows.

"It´s fine. Do not wake him, I will be here for a while. We can talk when His Majesty is feeling better", Canute spoke to his sister. Simultaneously, Harald´s eye slowly fluttered open, alarming the others of his awake presence. Canute kept his gaze on him, watching curiously.

"Canute...", the king´s raspy voice called out. Hearing his name being called out, the surprised man waited for Harald to continue. The sick king held out a hand, his brother quickly softly taking hold of it. "King Harald, I am right here. Please get some rest, there is no need to worry about the kingdom", Canute assured him, his voice was tender and light.

Tears escaped Princess Estrid, quickly wiping them away with her clothed arm.

"I was waiting for you", his rough voice spoke out. "I-I will hand over Denmark to you", his words pierced through Eira. She knew she would never inherit the throne, though hearing the words from her dying father felt like a slap to the face. It stung like hell, humiliating her to no end. The men in the room gasped at the king´s declaration, watching the pair with wide eyes. Canute was smirking slightly before changing back to a sorrowful expression; his plan was working.

"Don´t be absurd, king Harald. Please recover soon and maybe we can play that ball game once again", he continued the act.

"You´re really something else, Canute", his brother changed into their father, King Sweyn. "I don´t know you could feign innocence and tell such lies", the Illusion spoke to the blonde king, catching him off guard. Canute quickly let go of his brothers´ hand, looking horrified. Concern washed over Estrid´s face as she watched her brother. "Canute?", she asked.

"You´re visiting the very person you poisoned yourself? It´s quite the farce. What in the world are you trying to accomplish by doing something like this?", Sweyn continued to torment his son, mortifying him. "Harald was fond of you, was there a need to kill him? You two could have ruled this world together. It is not for the peace of the Kingdom; there is ambition dwelling in your heart. Ambition to become the sovereign over the North Sea. That is the curse, the curse of the crown. You cannot escape from it." Sweyn began to hysterically laugh, the voice of Estrid yelling his name pulled him back into reality.

Estrid held him, asking him what the matter was. "You seemed to be zoned out, are you ill aswell?" Concern laced her voice. Eira was watching the pair with squinted eyes, confused as to what happened to her uncle. Maybe he was crazy after all.

Canute´s gaze switched to the sleeping form of King Harald. "I´m fine, I just got a bit dizzy", he replied quietly. He then turned around and walked out of the room. "Get a bedchamber ready, king Canute is tired from his long voyage", Wulf´s voice called out, alarming the men. Halting just outside the door, Canute turned around one last time, his gaze falling on Eira who was already watching him. For the first time, they held eye contact; it was tense, and both of them knew the rivalry that existed between them. When she furrowed her brows, Canute curtly nodded in acknowledgment before ultimately leaving. It fueled her resentment even more, almost making her feel as if he was belittling her.

When the servants entered the chambers and began to feed the king, Eira decided to grab her book and the newly gifted chest, leaving the room, along with Estrid. The pair were walking in silence through the halls, feeling tense from the previous moment. Estrid noticed her niece´s slumped form, she seemed to be devastated, and the corners of her mouth switched downwards. She threw one arm around her in an attempt to comfort the princess.

"Shall we visit the gardens?", Estrid suggested, desperately trying to distract her. Glancing at the heavy chest in her palm, Eira shook her head. "I´d rather retire to my chambers for now", she replied stoically. Her voice was monotone, hiding the emotions that were beneath the surface. Eira didn´t wish to spend any more time with others, simply wanting to be left alone, for it was too much to bear for her.

She couldn´t believe it; her uncle arrived less than an hour and she had already felt miserable. Not only did her father disinherited her, but he did it in front of everyone, humiliating her and diminishing her pride. It was unfair how Canute was the perfect heir and Eira herself was merely tossed aside. He would turn her life upside down and depart for England again, leaving her to rot away.

"Alright, see you at dinner" Estrid gave her a sad smile, hugging her before leaving. Eira did not look up, nor did she reciprocate the hug; her posture was stiff, the energy leaving her body. Now, Eira was left alone to her thoughts, standing in the cold hallway. Her gaze was glued to the items in her arms, the blue-covered book suddenly felt heavy. Turning around, she was quick on her feet, soon arriving at her chambers. Eira then turned the doorknob, entering in a fast manner before shutting the door.

When she did, Eira slid off the door, collapsing on the ground. Tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting her face. The blue book on the ground irked her, throwing it against the wall. The pages were creased and the cover was scratched, just like how she felt.

She sat there for a few minutes, holding her knees close to her chest, as she gazed off into nothing in particular. When she began to calm down, she looked into the mirror, her tear-struck face staring back. She felt miserable, disgusted with herself. How could she allow herself to have this emotional outburst? She was no princess; she was an immature and spoiled child. Quickly, she wiped the tears from her face and walked to where the previously thrown book lay. Biting her lip, she held it in her hand, contemplating whether to throw it away or store it in her Bookshelf. Eira didn´t wish to do something she´d come to regret sooner or later, so she opened a drawer and threw it inside.

The chest, on the other hand, was put safely on her desk next to her mirror. Eira gripped the necklace around her collarbone, fidgeting with the pendant. Somehow, ironically almost, this gift gave her the bit of strength she´d soon need. This was the first moment, she truly yearned for her mother. With her, everything would have been different.

"Everything will get better", she whispered to herself.

Or so she thought.

Chapter Text

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples. Eira spent the entire afternoon inside her chambers, reading through books written by dozens of philosophers of the ancient, to get a better grasp of reality. Riffling through each book, Eira was desperate to find a solution to her despair. How could she get rid of the emotions stirring inside of her? She did not know, nor did the written thoughts on the pages.

It was already evening when a servant knocked on the door; a girl, About two years the princess´s junior. "Your Highness, dinner is being served. I was sent to fetch you", the timid voice called out. Eira was not on the whim to dine with a chirpy Estrid, neither did she want to with Canute, the man who made her life a living hell. "I feel a bit ill, I´d rather not", she lied through her teeth, eyes never leaving the book in her hand.

"Okay, I will inform King Canute of your sickness" The servant's voice rang through Eira´s ears, leaving as quickly as it had come. The servant was quick on her feet, hurrying to deliver the message to the English king. Standing in front of the dining hall, she knocked softly on the doors. The guards opened the doors for her, stepping aside. The servant kept her head low as she spoke, not looking up to the table, as if she was frightened by the idea to meet the gaze of a royal person.

Canute sat at the head of the table, Estrid sitting to his left while Wulf sat on the opposite side. The seat between the two on the right side of the table was left empty. The table was full of dishes; in the middle was a plate with an entire pig served. Candles lit the meal while a harp was played in the background.

"Good evening, your graces, Princess Eira will not be able to join you for dinner. She felt rather ill earlier, and wishes to remain in her chambers." Estrid frowned at the servants´ words, glancing at the empty stool in front of her. Canute seemed indifferent, keeping his gaze on the food while the Corners of Wulf´s lips switched slightly downwards. "Very well, fetch her a plate", the king replied, motioning for a servant to fill the wine goblets with the wave of his hand.

"Yes, Your Majesty", the girl curtsied and left shortly afterward. A servant then circled the table, filling up their goblets. He waited a moment, watching the two take a swig of their wine, before doing the same. "It tastes very sweet, where is it from?", Princess Estrid questioned as she gulped the liquor. "Norway, I believe, Your Highness", the servant replied with a bow. "I did not know that Norwegian wine tastes that good, nor that they traded it to Denmark!" Estrid chuckled, turning to her brother as she spoke. The crimson liquor stained her lips, giving them a reddish hue.

Humming in response, Canute watched as the servant cut the pig, serving each a portion. Wary of the possible attempt to poison him, he stared at the two taking a bite of their own. Canute was paranoid of everyone, each gesture was seen as a possible threat to him. He couldn´t help but do it; he was the very same person who eliminated all his enemies by poisoning them. Come to think of it, he could have done the same thing with Eira, disposing of her so she could not threaten his legitimacy. Though Canute was not so stupid to think of this as a solution; if the princess, the king´s only heir, would pass soon after her father´s death, due to the same reasoning, some would come to realize of his treacherous act and execute him.

Not only that but by uniting his bloodline with the former king´s through a betrothal with Princess Eira, he´d strengthen his claim to the Danish throne. It sounded like a perfect plan to him, the only obstacle was Eira herself. Canute has only recently met her and hasn´t spoken with her yet, though she had already made an impression on him, not a positive one.

To him, she seemed stubborn and not easy to persuade; it would make things harder for him in a marriage with Eira, though not impossible. After all, he was the king. Besides being a lovely princess with a magnificent education, she wouldn´t be the submissive bride who needed for his plan.

Canute absentmindedly ate a small amount of the food displayed on his plate, not much of his appetite was left. "You have barely eaten your food, is it not to your liking?", Estrid asked her brother, her eyes sparked with concern. "It tastes just fine, but I am not hungry", he stated, keeping his eyes on the dish.

"If you say so...", she responded.

The rest of the dinner continued with Estrid speaking about different topics, receiving occasional an answer from Wulf, while Canute kept to himself. When they were finished, Canute was quick to dismiss himself to his new chambers, leaving the two behind. When he arrived, it was already dark. The moon illuminated the night sky, along with thousands of stars that shone brightly. His room was dark; the only light source was from his window.

Canute proceeded to sit on a stool by the window, placing the Danish crown in his lap. He stared at it for some time. Its rubies glared right back at him, the gold of the crown was bright and flashy, representing all the former glory it had already seen.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the hall, stopping at his door. Then, a knock was heard through the door. "What is it?", he sternly questioned. "I have brought refreshments by order of Princess Estrid", a female voice called out from the outside.

"Where is it from?", Canute implored. He was aware Estrid did ask about his lack of appetite, though the paranoid man he was, he did not trust the source of the so-called ´refreshments´. "Huh? What might you mean?", the servant fumbled, confused with what he was asking. Canute on the other hand, did not give in to the attempt of poisonous nutrients. "I don´t need it", he declared.

"You fear poison because you use poison yourself." The voice of his dead father rang through his ears once again. Canute´s eyes glinted at hearing the voice. "Isn´t that right, Canute?" The blonde man switched his gaze from the crown in hand to the head of his father, lying in the corner of the dark room. Resting his chin on his palm, Canute stared the dead man directly in the eyes, not appearing to be frightened by the illusion, compared to in the afternoon.

"Coming out in the middle of the day is very mischievous of you, King Sweyn" His eyes squinted. "If you can see me during the day too, that means the curse is about to reach its climax", Sweyn´s raspy voice answered.

The servant began to lean in, trying to listen to what Canute was saying. "Is he talking to himself?", she thought, confused by the king´s words. "How long are you going to stay there? I don´t need anything. Leave", Canute demanded, his tone harsh. The servant shrieked, clearly taken off guard. "Yes, Your Majesty!" She then quickly ran off.

Footsteps echoed through the halls again, this time growing quieter each second. Canute relaxed back into the stool, replying to his father, or rather; the illusionous silhouette.

"The unification of the kingdom is a prerequisite for building a utopia", he began. "Having two kings would eventually lead to disaster; it is necessary for King Harald to die." Sweyn chuckled: "Well, well... You are starting to think like a true king now, Canute." In response to him, Canute began to laugh too, earning the furrowing of Sweyn´s brows. "What are you laughing about?"

Sitting more upright now, Canute looked him directly in the eyes again. "King Sweyn, I used to hate you and wished for your demise, but look at me now..." He smiled while talking. "The only one I can be completely honest with is you"

"Let´s stay good friends...", he suggested, placing the crown on top of his head. "As fellow cursed ones." The silhouette blurred, before completely vanishing, leaving Canute alone in his room, staring off into the distance.

----------

Being awoken by a servant in the early morning was never a great experience. Waking up at an early hour from a deep slumber after staying awake until dawn was stupid. The food from the previous night left a disgusting aftertaste in her mouth, for she refused to dine with the family and instead chose to eat the plate that was sent to her rooms only shortly after falling asleep next to her books.

Eira rubbed her eyes, feeling the hard surface beneath her; of course, she fell asleep next to the bookshelf once again. Books were spread across the floor, and a disheveled princess lying in the middle of the chaos. As she slowly sat upright, the knocks subsided and the female servants entered, surprised by the state of the room. "Good morning, Your Highness", they simultaneously bowed. Eira nodded in acknowledgment, yawning as she got up from the floor.

The servants placed a dish on her desk, along with a goblet of juice and silverware. On the plate were eggs displayed, along with bread and sausages. Feeling her stomach practically yell at the sight of food, she quickly began to feast on it, finishing only in a few minutes.

"Your training begins directly after your history lesson, do you wish to already be dressed in training clothes, Your Highness?", one of the servants asked while she picked up the dishes, and cleaned the desk. "Uh, okay", the princess mumbled, the tiredness disposing of her eloquence. A few servants proceeded to dress Eira, while another began to pick up the books, wanting to sort them back into the shelf. Eira saw the slave out of the corner of her eye, brows furrowing as she watched. That girl would sort the books in a random order, putting them somewhere where she couldn´t find them later on.

"Do not touch my things without my permission! Don´t you have any manners?", Eira hissed, frightening the servant. The timid girl backed off, quickly apologizing. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Eira huffed. "M´sorry didn´t mean it like that", her morning voice grumbled.

"God, since when have I been that ill-tempered? It´s most likely due to tiredness, right?", she thought to herself, quite surprised by her sudden outburst. The timid servant nodded, keeping her head low. "Get me a rag", she groaned. Without wetting her face first, Eira wouldn´t be able to get rid of the fog inside her head.

"Of course, Your Highness", one of them answered, grabbing a cloth before wetting it in a bucket filled with fresh water. Eira held out her hand, taking hold of it and wiping her face with the rag. The cold of the cloth immediately woke her up, feeling more refreshed afterward. She groaned, cleaning her entire face with it.

Eira never liked the feeling of multiple hands roaming around her body at once. Sometimes they´d pull too tight on the corset, accidentally push her bosom out too much when in a dress, and hold on too hard on her waist or arms. All in all, Eira despised the daily dressing routine. She was dressed in brown leathered clothing, a white blouse underneath her corset, and a dark-colored skirt above her trousers, which went to her ankle.

Afterward, her hair was braided into a simple one, and her locks of hair were brushed softly against her scalp. That was the only part of the routine to which she looked forward. Eira closed her eyes blissfully, savoring each second of it, before she went off to her history lesson. Though frequently she´d look into the mirror and watch the frightened girl behind her, staring blankly into nothingness while she was hunched over, her head hung low. Eira bit her lip, eyes narrowing at the girl.

When her braid was finished, Eira dismissed the servants and went through the halls of the castle, bumping into Estrid. The princess beamed at the sight of her, taking notice of her well-being. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, forming a beautiful smile. "Eira! Do you feel better again?", she questioned, hugging her dearest friend.

"Not entirely, but well enough to attend to my duties", Eira answered, reciprocating the hug. It wasn´t a lie, was it? She did feel like shit not nearly having slept enough. The rings underneath her eyes were proof of that, though they´d only be there temporarily, soon vanishing from their own. "I would have loved to dine with you, and you could have had a chat with Canute!"

Rolling her eyes, Eira shook her head. "I do not care for a ´chat´ with him. Besides, I spent my evening reading something for my philosophy lesson." The girl next to her frowned, taking hold of Eira´s hand. "I understand your frustration, but you haven´t seen your uncle in a long time, have you?"

Loosening the grip of Estrid on her hand, Eira pressed her lips into a thin line. "I must go to the history lesson now, I shall see you afterward", she spoke, ignoring the matter at hand. Without waiting for an answer, Eira turned around and left. Estrid stood still, staring after her.

Why was Eira always so snippy recently? Estrid was aware of her current situation, having her father lying on his deathbed. But she couldn´t comprehend why she´d react so dismissive when she spoke of Canute. Estrid wished to talk to her about it, though it was hard for her if Eira tried to avoid the subject at hand.

With a sigh, Estrid turned around and went on her way to the royal gardens, in an attempt of clearing her head. The gardens were a place that comforted her greatly; whenever she felt sad or upset, she´d go outside and spend her evening staring at the blossoming flowers. The floral scent of the daisies and lilies calmed her almost immediately, and the colorful palette of the flower fields made her heart fill with glee.

She walked around for some time before sitting down underneath a tree; her favorite hang-out spot of her and Eira. Picking up a flower, she analyzed it for a moment. It looked similar to the one from a previous day when Eira placed the Lilly behind her ear, the blue color of its petals ever so vibrant. The memory made the slight change in Eira´s behavior even more obvious to Estrid, concerning her.

"Good morning, Your Highness", a servant greeted the princess, curtsying in front of her. Estrid looked up to her, lips pressing into a smile. "Good morning to you too, Elizabeth." Standing up from the grass, the princess patted the skirt of her dress, getting rid of any dirt. "Did Canute appreciate the tray of food you brought the night before?"

Elizabeth´s eyes widened at the recall of yesterday´s events; the strange interaction with the English king confused her. "Uh, well he- His Majesty outright refused the refreshments" The servant stumbled over her words, Scratching the back of her neck. Furrowing her brows, Estrid gazed at her puzzlingly. Her brother did not eat at dinner, nor did he accept the tray of food. Did he have a medical problem? She did not know.

"Oh. Speaking of him, do you know where he is?" The servant nodded her head, now standing more upright as she gathered herself. "His Majesty should be at the training grounds. Do you wish for me to escort you, Your Highness?"

"Yes, please" Estrid smiled. The servant walked in front, guiding the princess through the halls of the castle, until she stopped in front of the doors that led to the training area. Estrid was behind her as she opened the doors. Looking around the place, she found the English king dueling a much-respected advisor, Wulf.

"This way, Your Highness", the servant told Estrid as she walked through the doors, halting on the porch. "His Majesty and Ser Wulf are here", she spoke as Estrid joined her, watching the men engrossed in combat. Estrid´s eyes widened slightly, a drop of sweat forming at the top of her forehead. It was the first time she´d ever seen her older brother participating in such a violent act, for he was always against such brutal activities. It was... well, surprising to say the least.

"Is that truly Canute?", she mumbled, watching the men swing blades at one another. Wulf clashed with his sword against Canute, who dodged his blow with his shield, sliding to the side, his feet slowing his speed. He was breathing heavily, his entire body was trembling with exhaustion. Both of the men waited for a moment before they dashed off, running towards each other. Wulf´s sword clashed with Canute´s shield, and his with Wulf´s also. Estrid screamed at the impact, frightened about the possibility that one of them might get hurt.

Meanwhile, the two girls watched the duel in suspense, Eira was sulking through the halls, coming from the recently finished lesson of history. Her bow was already looped over her shoulder, a set of arrows inside her training bag which she wore loosely on her right shoulder. Surprisingly, history went swiftly today, her mentor did not talk about irrelevant subjects to kill time and instead, she was able to fulfill her tasks in a shorter time than average. Now, Eira was even more tired than before, the reading made her eyes heavy and she had to do her best not to shut them. This way, she hoped, she´d at least be more energized during the training so she´d make it through the day. This way she could also spend some time with her teacher, Wulf.

"Those are real swords, right?" Estrid´s trembling voice was heard as Eira opened the doors, walking toward Estrid while answering her question. "Obviously they are. They´re a bit too old to be playing with wooden swords, are they not?" Eira gazed at the fighting men, noticing the tired silhouette of Canute. Wulf was calmer and put together, already experienced in sword fighting and combat. She kept her eyes on her teacher a bit longer, being amazed at his graceful combat.

The servant greeted the princess at the sight of her, bowing while Estrid turned to her, practically shaking her in fright. "Is that really practicing? Canute can get hurt badly if he´s hit!", she frowned, eyes glinting with concern. Eira rolled her eyes at her, not that she´d care if something were to happen to him. "He is no boy but a king; He´ll survive some training." Estrid was about to add something when a new voice called out:

"Look at him working so hard." It was Gunnar, an advisor of Canute. "Gunnar!", Estrid called out to him, Eira nodding to him in a greeting manner. "Hello Princesses, how are you enjoying your day?" Turning slightly towards Gunnar, Eira replied with a short: "Not all too much. I have to wait to be able to train now." Not only did Canute steal her birthright, but now she also had to share her teacher. What a drag.

Estrid gazed at the man with a horrified expression, her eyes were round and she kept fidgeting. "I´m not enjoying it at all, I´m worried sick!"

Gunnar chuckled at the princess. "Please be assured, Wulf is a great swordsman. He is controlling his power so that nothing happens", he tried to soothe her concern. "It doesn´t look like that to me", she replied with a shaking voice. "I can´t believe this. Canute used to hate even touching a sword", the princess added in disbelief. This piqued Eira´s interest, no one said anything about Canute´s change of attitude up until now.

"His Majesty awakened his royal blood while in England, it´s very commendable", Gunnar spoke as he caressed his mustache. "A king must be strong above anything else. Nordic men will not listen to the words of a weak man."

"Or the words of a woman", Eira muttered under her breath, going unnoticed by the others. Estrid continued to watch the fight, her voice was more calm now as she spoke. "But it seems like he is in a lot of pain."

It always amazed Eira how empathetic and compassionate her aunt was, she was angelic in that manner. Sometimes it got on her nerves when she felt compassionate for the wrong person, just like right now. However, Eira couldn´t help but feel envious of that trait. She often felt like she was a bad person and couldn´t help but wonder if it was true. For example, this morning, when she blew up in a servant's face, frightening the helpless girl.

The four standing still on the porch watched as Canute dodged a blow of Wulf´s, taking a few steps backward as he leaned against a wall, attempting to regulate his breathing. "You retreat when you´re tired. It´s a bad habit of yours", Wulf acknowledged, halting as he waited for the king. "When you retreat it only prolongs the fight. A true king advances and finds a way out with his sword", he provoked him.

"Not only are your enemies watching, but your own subjects are observing how well you wield your sword as well." Canute took a few deep breaths before replying. "And the princesses are also watching", he spoke, earning a raised eyebrow from Wulf. "You´ve noticed, haven´t you?", Canute smirked. "I see… That is why you started to attack with more force all of a sudden", he muttered.

"Th-there you go again. I will not fall for that trick!", Wulf answered, his eyes widening in surprise. Canute stood upright now, gaining more confidence. "Forget it, I didn´t mean it. And, they´re too busy talking to that man next to them." Canute used plural since he wasn´t quite sure which of the two princesses caught his interest. However, it didn´t matter long, for he would soon make Eira his Lady wife.

Wulf contemplated on whether to turn around or not, though curiosity got the best of him, wanting to see the lovely princess for himself. His gaze searched for Eira´s Silhouette, finding her Standing next to Estrid, along with Gunnar and a servant. His honey-like eyes softened at the sight of her before Canute´s shield was thrown in his direction. He then quickly dodged it with his own. Canute used this moment to rush toward his opponent and thrust his blade forward, halting next to Wulf´s neck. "You win", he spoke, staring ashamed at the ground, embarrassed to have fallen for that cheap trick. Canute then withdrew the sword, exhaling heavily.

The four on the porch watched in surprise as the men began to yell in amazement. How the hell did Canute manage to catch an experienced man like Wulf off guard? Eira furrowed her brows, her eyes squinting as she watched. Estrid on the other hand sighed, glad that the duel was finally over. Eira crossed her arms as Gunnar left their side, walking towards the English king.

Canute threw his sword to the ground, taking off his gloves and helmet when Wulf approached him. "Your Majesty, I´ve told you many times that you must not toss your sword like that", he spat, squinting his eyes at the king. Gunnar spoke as he walked toward the pair: "That was an amazing duel, Your Majesty." Canute´s bored gaze met Gunnar´s as two squires helped him get rid of the armor. "What is it, Gunnar?"

Holding up the parchment, Gunnar grinned at the king, his high voice speaking ever so gleefully. "We´ve completed the paperwork regarding the survey. I will bring it to your chambers later" Canute looked at the man, breathing heavily from exhaustion. His hair was disheveled and his face was covered in sweat, deeply in need of a bath.

Eira stared at the scarred face of the man who made his way towards her. Each scar reminded her of the warrior he was, every feat he accomplished. It made her heart flutter, admiring his strength. "I´ve waited long enough, don´t you agree?", she jested, earning a half smile from her teacher. "Yes, I must apologize for that, but now we can go forward with your training, princess." He walked first, motioning for her to follow him. They went to a more secluded area, on the way Eira stumbled upon Canute who was stalking in the direction of the castle. The two glanced at each other for a short moment before continuing on their way.

The moment was short, yet filled with tension that could cut through the air surrounding them. They stared at each other intensively, even if only for a fleeting moment. As they passed one another, Eira´s mood immediately began to sour. Only one look at him made her feel angry. He carried himself around with this self-righteousness, making her sick of his "holier-than-thou" act.

That disgusting smug face he had when speaking with her father. He might have thought that no one was able to look through his facade, though Eira refused to be fooled by the likes of him. He was the type of person to be completely abusing his power to get what he wanted, Eira believed. He would be the one to become the Danish king after her father passed, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She wished for Nothing more than to bash his face in, having violent thoughts plaguing her mind all of a sudden. It was as if he was the one making her Change for the worse. She was the complete opposite of her namesake, the goddess that healed People in need. Eira would more likely be the reason there are people hurt. Or at least, that is what was going through her head.

She couldn´t be more happy to see him be crowned as king and then leave back to go to England so that she´d never have to see his face again. Eira would just have to wait a bit more, and then it´d be all over, her nightmare, or rather, her living hell, would soon be over.

Chapter Text

The warm weather made Eira grow hot and sweaty in her training clothes. Her face was red from the discomfort, it might have also been influenced by Wulf´s presence. The anger and agony inside her body fueled her motivation to participate in today´s training well. Even more than usual, even though she had always been a willing participant.

The squire in blue clothing was busy recollecting the thrown arrows, walking back and forth. He also had to climb up trees, picking up arrows from the targets hidden in leaves. Eira stood on the hill, where she spent most of her time training with Wulf. The area was a secluded one, being in the royal forest. Surrounded by trees and bushes, this place was ideal to practice archery on a higher skill- level. This way, she also had a better time to relax and focus, and Wulf was able to teach her more.

As Eira shot a target, a thought popped into her head. She closed one eye, squinting the other as she focused on the next target. With a slow exhale, she let go of the arrow, unsurprisingly hitting the bullseye. "At your today´s practice with my uncle, tell me... how was he able to beat you?", she questioned him with a her brow, turning directly to meet his face. Her flushed demeanor did not hold her back from asking the question that had been on her mind for a while.

Seemingly caught off guard by her sudden question, Wulf opened his eyes in surprise. He couldn´t possibly tell the princess that she caught his interest, right? "You seemed to be distracted by something", Eira stated when he didn´t answer. "Yes, Princess. I was foolish enough to get tricked into a conversation, which distracted me", he replied. Eira then walked near, standing in front of him.

She wasn´t sure where she got the sudden confidence boost from, but she was sure to use it. Smirking, she asked:" And what did my uncle say that foolishly distracted you?" Only a few inches were between their faces, creating tension between them. It was not the same tension she felt when being near her uncle though. This made her heart race somehow, filling it with something unfamiliar. She never was this close with another man, no less her mentor.

Instead of answering, Wulf distanced himself from the princess and walked behind a tree, picking up two wooden daggers. Eira raised an eyebrow at the display. "Will you teach me how to use a dagger?", she asked. Wulf then walked forward and gave her one of the weapons as he nodded in reply. "A princess should also be skilled in self-defense, don´t you think?" He smiled at her.

"That´s what guards are there for", she replied while rolling her eyes, handing the squire her bow. Eira tried to play it off how he made her feel, just seeing a tiny smile of him made her heart beat faster. "Only careless people say that. There are more dangers to a princess than to ordinary ones", he countered with a playful smirk.

Sighing, she gave in. "Fine, you´ve got me." Eira held the weapon in her palm, weighing it up and down before twirling it. It was light, due to the wooden material. It would be easy to yield it, though fighting with it was something entirely different. Maybe, she´d be able to catch him off guard just like Canute did today…

"Try to attack me" Without adding anything else, the princess got into a fighting stance, holding the dagger up. After taking a deep breath, she ran into him, thrusting her dagger near his side. Wulf however, had seen the move coming and took hold of her hand, disarming her as the dagger was thrown to the ground. The overgrown grass almost made it disappear.

She yelped as he did so, her eyes widening at his speed. Wulf then let go of her and went to pick the dagger up, handing it to her as he spoke. "Try not to be haste." Nodding, she bit her lip and concentrated on her target. This time she wouldn´t attack without tactic. Now Eira would try a feint attack before kicking him in his shin and disarming him in the process.

Going into stance, she waited for a moment before dashing towards him, feigning a slash to his chest. As he gripped her arm, she kicked him in the shin. He grunted at the strike, though he didn´t lose his hold on her. Eira gasped softly as she realized that her plan would not work. Wulf proceeded to twirl her by her arm, trapping her in an embrace as she shrieked. Eira´s back was pressed into his chest and his arm kept her in place, holding her tightly. She then slowly turned her head, meeting his eyes.

Mere inches were between their faces, both could feel the other's breath fanning over their face. Noticing a loose strand of hair in her face, Wulf slowly raised a hand of his, halting in front of her face. He didn´t know why the hell he decided to do this, forcing the virtuous princess into a promiscuous situation. He was sure to beat himself up over it sometime later.

He then went forward and tucked the hair strand neatly behind her ear. Eira was sure she was beet-red by now. The close proximity between them nearly made her head spin on wheels.

Whenever some squires or Vikings joked about a maiden being in heat, Eira would always snap at them. Although now she couldn´t deny being inexperienced made her keen on trying out. It was embarrassing how easily Wulf´s actions influenced her, truly.

When he withdrew his hand, the pair shared eye contact. Wulf´s eyes mirrored how he longed for the young princess, while Eira´s gaze herself showed the uncertainty and yet excitement she felt. Their lips hovered inches from each other, almost brushing for a few seconds. Both were hesitant, breathing quickly as Eira could feel her heart beating in her chest. Her lips trembled and her hands were shaking.

With a big step backward, he held himself back, creating more distance between them.

Eira bit her lip, the rush of emotions she felt now gone and switched with utter embarrassment. Her cheeks turned from pink to a dark red. Feeling slightly hurt by the ´rejection´, she gazed at the ground before a servant came into view, clearing her voice. "Your Highness, dinner will be served." Eira was truly grateful for the servant´s interruption, saving her from an awkward moment with her mentor. Turning to him, she nodded slowly as he bowed, saying his goodbyes to her.

---------------

Canute knew his day would be long and it hadn´t even begun. The morning was spent sword training with his advisor, Wulf, who he managed to trick into defeat. It was a small victory, sure, but it was only the beginning of the many victories he would succeed. Whether it be on the battlefield or in politics; Canute was adamant about creating the utopia he dreamed of; the paradise for Vikings.

Barely having time to relax while taking a bath, he got dressed quickly and headed for his study. The daily duties he had as king did get on his nerves, of course. But little things such as his feelings were irrelevant in the matter of creating the ideal kingdom for his subjects. He huffed and went through with it, just like with anything else.

Arriving at the study, the English king went inside and sat on his comforter next to the desk. Its surface was littered with dozens of papers, many were letters sent from noble houses addressing some issues they faced, pleading for the king´s aid. Anyone apart from Canute himself wouldn´t be able to sense any type of order from the documents, showing just how much of a messy person he truly was. What seemed like a disorganized study from an outsider´s perspective, had from Canute´s eyes a perfectly structured order, which he could simply follow. Besides, having not much time on his hands as a king, he needed to be able to have immediate access to information. For that fact alone, he kept his those papers scattered across the table.

The only bad thing that came with it was the possibility that others also could have access to that information, which is why the study was kept locked.

He went through his freshly washed hair, playing with its strands. Small moments like those reminded him of the changes he went through, physically and mentally. Canute waited only a few minutes before Gunnar arrived. In his arms were different parchments and letters, the man had the usual grin on his face.

"Your Majesty, I have brought the documents with me, regarding the matter at hand", he elaborated while placing the papers on the desk. Canute grabbed a letter, opened it, and read its content. It was a list with different names of the Danish farm owners. After he was finished, he glanced at the man who stood before him, meeting his hesitant gaze. "Speak your mind, Gunnar", his stern voice called out.

Canute´s troops in England were financed by the increasing taxes in England, which left the English folk quite agitated. For that reason, he needed funds from Denmark. If not, he´d have to minimize his troops, which would be a stupid plan to begin with. Therefore, he needed sources from which he could get the troops financed, for example increasing Danish taxes. But he was Canute, of course, he had something different in mind than Gunnar knew of...

"Your Majesty, I must say there aren´t many wealthy people out there", he began. Canute continued to analyze the words written on the documents. "Even if you were to squeeze the people on that list dry you would only get about 3,000 pounds each year", Gunnar spoke matter-of-factly. "Other than that, the only option would be to raise the taxes in general."

As he kept his gaze on the list, Canute did not answer, to which Gunnar looked over the paper himself. Reading one name in particular, told the king of his idea, folding his arms behind his back. "Oh, I recommend that one; Ketil, son of Sverkel. He is a wealthy farmer who owns a massive estate in the south."

"The military power of each family is not listed here", Canute stated while continuing to read the words written on the paper. "Yes...For that we would have to go there and investigate in person", the man stumbled over his words. Canute looked to the side, his cold gaze meeting Gunnar, whose eyes slightly widened. "I need to know those numbers. Investigate and update me." The man next to him bowed, nodding. "Of Course, Your Majesty." Gunnar then crossed his arms, looking aside as his eyes squinted. "However, this will be a significant tax increase immediately following your coronation as king of Denmark. I am more worried about the backlash from the people of Denmark."

Canute shut his eyes, sighing as he rested his chin on his fist. "Making sure that it will not happen is what politics is all about, it´s not impossible." Gunnar turned to the king, shaking his head in frustration. "It´s not impossible? What options do we have?" He sounded desperate, unable to find a solution to the growing problem. "We´ll acquire more crown land", the English king replied.

"You will reclaim land? But that would take time until we gain profit from it", Gunnar argued. "I will gain more fields in other ways than reclamation", the king replied stoically. Gunnar's eyes widened at his words, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "You mean by requisition? Your Majesty, that is going a bit far..."

Canute did not falter, keen on following through with the idea. "We need money. We will have to take drastic measures." Opening one of his eyes, he glanced at the hard wooden floor. Hair hung in his face, discomforting him in a way, though he did not move to push the few strands aside. "At least it is better than sowing seeds of discontent throughout the nation by increasing the tax." Glancing once at the man before him, he added: "If you have a better plan, I am all ears."

Gunnar´s mouth opened in surprise, stuttering as he replied. "Why don´t we just dissolve the corps at this point?" The bead of sweat continued to trail his face and Gunnar felt himself growing rather hot.

"That´s out of question", Canute curtly answered. "I am a conqueror and a Dane, the people of England don´t think favorably of me. The effectiveness of my rulership depends on whether or not I have a corps that will do my will." He stared into the nothingness, thinking deeply before he spoke. "A king is a sword. In a world like this, a king without military power can´t accomplish anything."

Before Gunnar could reply, a knock was heard through the room, coming from the doors. "What is it?", Canute questioned sharply, irritated by the interruption. "Your Majesty, dinner will be served", a servant´s voice was heard. Canute then abruptly stood up, placing the paper he held in his hand on the desk.

"My word stands" With that sentence, the English king left his study, Gunnar following shortly before the servant locked the doors to the room.

----------------

Roaming through the halls of the Danish castle was an activity Eira enjoyed. Her fingers grazed the stone wall as she walked, experimenting with how different the surface of each wall felt. Her fingers often got murky because of the dust, to which she smeared the dirt from her hands off on her gown, hoping no one would notice. Occasionally she´d halt at any painting, gazing at each brush stroke and small detail hidden in the background. Eira would come to realize that most paintings had a deeper meaning beneath the surface. Motives and metaphors were used for tragic storytelling.

Every day she´d walk through the halls, searching for a new painting. She was often gifted such drawings from noblemen which were trying to court her. Ironically, the paintings often included Details which metaphorically stood for force loss of virtue and similar themes. This showed her how uneducated those men were. They did not care for a meaningful gift for the princess, no. They would only pay for a random painting to win Eira´s admiration.

Eira was quick on her feet to arrive at the dining hall. Her attire was still the same from her training; dirty and sweaty. Not having enough time to change into a fresh gown, Eira now had to present herself with this look in front of the English king, not that it mattered if she looked pleasant to him; she couldn´t care less of what her uncle thought of her.

She took a turn and the doors were opened to her. The guards outside the room announced her presence as Eira walked inside. The table was already filled with several dishes. The candles were lit and the goblets were already being refilled with wine; Eira was late. Canute sat at the head of the table, Estrid to his left. When she noticed his gaze falling on her, she curtsied while looking down. "I apologize for arriving late" Her attire spoke for itself. Eira then walked forward and a servant pushed out a chair for her. Sitting down, she watched the food displayed in front of her. "I assume your training went well?" Estrid smiled at her niece, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Nodding, Eira took a swig of the wine goblet, tasting the sweet liquor. Her dry lips were wetted by the red substance, staining the cracks on her lips, making it appear as if they were bleeding. Estrid held a Hand to her mouth as she giggled. "Then you two have certainly something in common", she spoke as her eyes darted between Eira and Canute. His Expression was deadpanned, seemingly absent of the current conversation taking place. Her lips pursed at the recall of previous events. "Right, you´ve bested Wulf, haven´t you, Your Majesty?", Eira sneered, glancing directly at him.

Canute tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he watched the princess. She shook her head, crossing her arms while doing so. Yes, I have, dear niece." The last part almost felt like it had mocking intent. His cold voice rang through her ears, directed at Eira herself for the first time since his arrival. Her eyes widened slightly and the hair on her neck stood up. His tone wasn´t hostile, nor was it welcoming. It truly frightened her how monotone one could be, it was as if he wasn´t even a human.

Pushing the feeling of discomfort aside, she instead focused on the newfound anger inside her. It was tempting to agitate the stoic man in front of her, at least this way he´d show any emotions. "Surely only by playing a dirty trick. After all, you probably lack the training and skill." Eira gave him a half smile as he raised a brow at her. Those words irked him. Eira was an entitled brat that tried to provoke him. He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, though he couldn´t help but put her in line.

"That is no way to talk to a king, Princess", he spoke sharply. His voice was a bit louder than before, and he stared at her more intensely than before.

There it was! And Eira thought for a short moment he was incapable of showing emotions… "My apologies, Your Majesty", she answered in a mocking tone, smirking as she did so. The two kept staring at each other, not daring to break off eye contact and show a sign of submission. Estrid felt like an observer, sitting with the two bickering like children. She facepalmed, gaining their attention.

"You two are more similar than you think", Estrid spoke with a hint of a grin. Canute rolled his eyes at his sister´s words, completely disagreeing with her.

How could she even think of comparing that insolent child with him?

Eira on the other hand scoffed, shaking her head. "I´m not brash, nor am I smug." Estrid refrained from chuckling at her words, gulping her wine down instead. While cutting the meat on his plate, Canute continued to stare at Eira with a pinched expression. It was ridiculous how irritated he was. How could one singular person get on his nerves that much, and disrespect him no less at the same time?

The three of them then kept quiet as they were occupied with eating. Sometimes Estrid sparked up a conversation, as always. "Oh, I forgot to tell you that a gift arrived from Miklagard", the blonde princess reminded herself. Eira blinked, confused by her words. Why would someone send her a gift from Miklagard? A potential suitor perhaps? But Miklagard was far away and irrelevant in Danish politics. "Do you know from whom?"

Estrid grinned at her as she filled her mouth with more food. "It was supposed to be a gift for your sixteenth nameday, although it did arrive a bit too late" Estrid scratched the back of her head as she chuckled in embarrassment. Hearing her words, Eira blushed and her brows were raised. "Uh, thank you", she replied hesitantly, caught off guard by the sudden show of affection. Estrid beamed with delight, glad that she made her friend happy.

Canute watched the interaction with interest, noting the difference in Eira´s attitude. In that fleeting moment, she did not seem like the feisty brat, but rather a sweet girl.

The trio parted their ways after dinner was finished, and Eira herself was on the way to her chambers. She was in need of a bath after today´s training session. Come to think of it, Eira was taken aback by Wulf´s display of emotions today. Most of the time he was more stoic but still nice. This time it was different, it was as if he held that kind of thoughts in the back of his head, letting them free for the first time.

She blushed even only thinking of it. Even if it was only for a moment, the two were almost kissing. Eira nearly had her first kiss…

She spent more time taking a bath than usual, replaying today´s Events in her mind. She´d brush her wet fingers over her fingers, imagining they were his lips. How would his lips feel on her? How would their kiss be? The princess let her imagination run free.

After finally getting out of the bath, she went to her dresser. Next to it was something covered with a cloth. It was as tall as the wooden closet itself, leaving Eira to wonder what it could be. She ripped the cloth from it, revealing a stone statue. It was the statue of a woman covered with a chiton. The woman depicted was beautiful and hyperrealistic. Eira had already heard of the stone wonders in Miklagard, but she had never seen one for herself. The statue truly looked like a real person made of stone.

As she walked near the figure, she noticed the small details of the woman´s face. Her expression was serious, though it did show the hint of a smile. Eira could already see herself standing hours in front of the statue, just gazing at its beauty. Her gaze then switched to the statue´s feet, where a small piece of paper was. On it was the name "Eir" written. The statue was crafted after Eira´s namesake. Her hand unconsciously went to her necklace, fidgeting with the pendant.

She sighed, her fingers trailing the cold and hard surface. Each curve was smooth and shiny. It was one of the most thought-through gifts she had ever received and Eira was truly thankful for it. Thinking of gifts, her gaze went to the drawer, in which the blue-covered book lay. She thought about visiting her father since it was a daily activity for her.

Eira couldn´t help but feel bitter; he ultimately chose Canue over her. She loved her father, but she was a prideful and stubborn person. She´d never hurt her ego that much by visiting him after the humiliation she went through, at least not for now. First, she needed time for herself and calm her thoughts.

Eira pondered over what to do. She could continue and read the Welsh book that she was almost through with or visit the library and find new books about historical events. Ultimately, Eira decided to grab her sketchbook and art supplies, sitting down on the floor, leaning her back on the end of her bed. She sat there for the rest of the afternoon, sketching the statue in front of her. She occasionally bit her lip in concentration, drawing blood. Lost in the trance of creativity, she bit her lip with more force, to which a few droplets of blood flew onto the paper, covering the statue´s face.

A knock was then heard throughout the room, pulling her out of her hazy state. Putting the sketchbook aside, she stood up and walked to the door. Opening it, revealed a distressed servant. Her brows were pulled together and the Corners of her mouth twitched downwards; it seemed like she was in agony.

"What is it?", Eira asked with the raise of a brow. The servant bowed, clenching her fists. "Your Highness, King Harald has passed."

"What?" Eira´s eyes widened, her Hands trembling furiously. The servant kept her head low while Eira´s gaze switched to the bloody sketch on the ground.

It seemed like it was trying to tell her something, something that Eira was completely oblivious to. Grazing the chipped flesh of her lips, her fingers got covered in red liquid. Her vision began to blur, splotches appearing in her sight. She felt herself stumbling, or slipping; she did not know.

The last thing she heard was the voice of the servant calling for her before Eira lost consciousness

Chapter Text

The past few days have been terrible for Eira.

After her father was found dead in his chambers, the Danish royal family was informed as soon as possible. When that servant knocked on Eira´s doors, telling her of the tragic events that took place, her head began to spin.

She woke up a few hours afterward in bed with a wet rag on her forehead. The sweat was evident on her face and she was pale. The physician did not have an exact answer to the reasoning of her current condition. Perhaps it was the shock from her King Harald´s death, perhaps it was something entirely different.

Besides that, Eira had to be careful lately, often falling in and out of consciousness when she moved too abruptly, which is why she was kept from continuing her training. This way she at least had enough time to spend in the library, worming her way through every single book that was kept at the library. Eira was sure of knowing the entire map of the hall, knowing each section of bookshelves, including which books were lost.

Canute would often enter, borrowing some historical texts himself, though she was never conscious to detect his presence. Each time he visited the library it would be late at night when Eira was snoring peacefully. He was always quick on his feet so as not to disturb her, for he knew this was a sacred place to the princess. At those times he would catch a few glimpses of her being off guard. Canute could see how her face relaxed for once, the usual scowl vanished from her face.

The day of the funeral followed soon after. Ironically, it was a rainy day. The sky was grey and the sun was timidly concealing itself behind dark clouds. Eira could remember every detail from that day; from the cold breeze giving her goosebumps, to the amount of flowers that were brought to his grave. Five life lobelias were placed on the stone, looking as lonely as ever.

The color irked her, it was as if everything blue was associated with her father and indirectly with her failure. Only the sight of the color itself made her heart grow heavy. She was even beginning to avoid wearing gowns of that color.

Estrid held Eira’s hand tightly as tears escaped her eyes. She was sobbing, sniffling into the crook of her niece’s neck as she held her close. Eira did not shed a tear that day, nor the day after. She blamed herself for not visiting her father, beating herself up over her stubbornness. How could Eira allow herself to shed any tears for her father if she even refused to see him? It was her fault for not spending his precious time together.

At night she felt herself having the urge to open the blue-covered book, reading each page over and over again to soothe the longing she felt for her father. The idea of being in his embrace one last time plagued her mind. His last interaction with a relative was with Canute. Now that she thought of it, it made her even more bitter. Her uncle was the person who got to witness her father’s last moments, as his heir.

Thoughts like those nearly made her break into sobs. Instead, she spent evenings staying at the library, falling asleep between dozens of books before being found by servants in the early morning. Her Body grew exhausted from sleeping on the hard Cold Floor. Eira tormented herself into finishing every book that caught her interest, in an attempt to distract her thoughts from her father.

Not only that, but she closed herself off even more than before. Estrid barely got to see her anymore, besides the short time at dinner and sometimes visiting her at the library. Though those were only fleeting moments, for Eira barely paid attention to her, engrossed in her textbooks. Or rather, acting like it. Eira couldn't help it, it wasn't like she did it on purpose; Eira truly did want to spend time with her closest companion. But she did it unconsciously, returning curt responses, not sparing the girl even a glance.

Eira was slowly falling into a deep pit, hardly finding her way back out. The question was a matter of time if she would find her way out on her own, clicking back into her senses to fulfill her duties. After all, sorrow comes to most after losing their dearest ones, right?

Estrid also witnessed the circles under Eira’s eyes growing deeper and darker, and her face became more pale than usual; the changes were grave.

She grew more worried when Eira stopped coming to dinner. Canute and her sat alone in the dining hall. Her brother spoke not much, like always. Estrid fingers were quivering as the pair waited for Eira to arrive, each second turning into minutes.

“I’m worried”, she spoke quietly while staring at the empty seat. Canute rested his chin in his palm, replying,” Her father died” He reminded her sternly. He spoke as if her behavior was perfectly reasonable.

“Of course, but that is no reason to neglect her own needs”, she thought to herself as she chipped at the skin of her nails, her brows creasing at his words.

Instead, she replied, “She barely leaves the library.”

——————

A week has now passed since the death of King Harald and Canute’s coronation as king of Denmark would follow soon. In the meantime, Canute would act as Harald’s regent, waiting for the crown to officially be passed over to him.

He had previously been asked by one of his fellow men for an audience; Thorgil. A mighty warrior, a force to be reckoned with. He was a savage and an influential person too, his name not a forgettable one. Furthermore, he was also the son of Ketil, the infamous farm owner of great Danish crownlands, also known as Ketil the Iron Fist; It was a win-win situation for Canute, of course, he'd accept the request.

Granting him the favor, Ketil was promised an audience with him the following day after. It took Thorgil by surprise how quickly Canute agreed, although he didn’t give it a second thought.

Canute broke the routine of his nightly visits to the library in the evening when he was on his way there, the urge of finding a new book to occupy him was leaving the the English king restless.

His footsteps echoed through the looming halls, stone crumbling underneath him with every stride. Knights stood in front of each entrance, guarding every possible room in the castle.

A smug grin graced his lips, caused by the satisfaction that was brought to him by Thorgil. Everything was going according to his plan, Canute didn't even have to do anything for Ketil to walk straight into his webs before entangling himself into them.

The grin vanished as quickly as it appeared when he entered the hall. The candles were already lit, hinting at the fact that someone was already inside, though he didn't have to guess much to know who it was.

Canute raked his fingers through the hair strands that clouded his eyesight momentarily. Looking around the hall, his eyes searched for the bookshelf of interest. With quick footsteps, he struts forward, seeing the princess already arriving before him. She sat on the floor, her back resting on the shelf while books were spread around her, one was already open in her lap.

Her hair was in a low ponytail and she wore a considerably loose dress, whose sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. At the sounds of his footsteps, she raised her gaze, which directly met his own. Eira’s eyes went round in surprise, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. “Hello, Your Majesty”, she muttered. Canute was able to see her appearance Looking less tired and instead more Lively. It seemed as if her sorrow was only temporary, having found a way quickly to cope with King Harald´s death.

His eyes twinkled, taking her appearance in. She looked exhausted, similar to what he expected to see, though she looked healthier than the day before. “Niece, it’s a pleasure to see you’re up and well.” She gave him a forced smile, forcing herself to be nice for once.

He took note of her reading themes that caught his interest, his gaze was kept on the book in her lap. “Does Miklagard interest you?” He began to open up a conversation. Canute had to find some common ground with her.

Eira’s brows wrinkled before following his gaze. “I do. Besides, I wanted to know a bit more about the origin of a statue that was gifted to me”, she elaborated while keeping her gaze on the book. She began fidgeting with the pendant of her necklace, uncomfortable under the burning gaze of her uncle.

“The gift from Estrid, no?” He folded his hands behind his back while leaning his side on the shelf, making himself a bit more comfortable.

Eira nodded, the corners of her mouth absently twitching upward at the thought of her friend's gesture. It was a thoughtful gift that she cherished.

Canute thought for a moment before an idea popped into his head. “I take it you’re politically competent?” Eira looked at him puzzlingly, raising a brow. “I’m not sure if I am following.”

“Tomorrow a person of great influence will visit me and I must bargain with them. I thought it might be interesting for you to accompany me”, he spoke. Not only could the meeting possibly be interesting for the princess, but it was an opportunity for Eira to win his trust, or at least get more familiar with him and show off the strong bond between them to the kingdom of Denmark. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he added,” You might learn a thing or two.”

His suggestion took her by surprise, to say the least. Not to forget, this was the longest conversation they had ever held. Eira was confused by his sudden proposal. It wasn't like him to go out of his way and ask her to spend time with him. Especially when the only times they saw each other were at dinner, not to forget that Eira wasn’t the nicest person to him either.

Nonetheless, Eira couldn't outright refuse him, for he was a king and regent of Denmark. Besides, she did find some interest in the proposal. The idea of the Danish people seeing her as being active in politics and having an actual meaning besides being a pretty princess gave her the motivation to accept.

After a short moment of silence, she replied,” I don’t see why not.” Canute nodded at her response, suppressing the urge to smirk in triumph.

Feeling the sense of awkwardness engulfing the silent atmosphere, Eira grabbed a book that lay carelessly on the floor, holding it up to him. “I suppose you're here for a book?”

Canute leaned forward, inspecting the title with squinted eyes. “Do you recommend it?” His gaze switched to hers, meeting her eyes. “I’ve read it twice already”, she answered with a hint of a sly tone. Finding humor in the exchange, he huffed while the corners of his mouth twitched slightly upward.

He took the book from her hand, their fingers grazing slightly against each other in a swift motion. „I’ll look into it“ His voice was low as he spoke. Eira nodded at him in reply, watching as he turned his back to her, quick on his heel to leave the library. Her eyes followed his trail, waiting for his presence to vanish.

When he did, Eira let out a breath, slowly exhaling. She was glad he left; his presence alone made her uncomfortable. Even if he was doing something nice for her, it didn´t change the fact that Eira wasn´t exactly fond of Canute. She didn´t even know if he asked for her company for Eira´s own interest. Fuck, maybe he was using the fact she´s a woman to his advantage. To persuade or distract the men who would arrive tomorrow. Could this be the time when she´d be shipped off to be wed to some lord?

Eira didn´t want to overthink it, and instead dropped her gaze to her hands, watching as she formed fists before opening her palm again. She took notice of the lack of callus on her hands, which slowly vanished as she neglected her training.

Eira would lie if she denied missing the regular training sessions with Wulf. The way her fingers became rough and sensitive to the touch after an intense day, the hot baths she would take afterward. It was all something she began to miss, now she felt the callus from her palm and fingers vanishing due to the lack of training, which made her hands feel unbelievably soft.

And not to forget Wulf who made those times much more interesting than they should. Since the moment they almost kissed she hasn´t spoken to him. Eira may or may not have been unconsciously avoiding him. Thank god she had a reason for not attending her training. It would have been awkward between them the entire time, she was sure of it. Eira couldn´t deny she felt hurt by the rejection she faced from him. Especially since Eira was never denied anything as a princess. It hurt her ego and she was too prideful to admit that.

She still had feelings for him, there was no reason to lie about that. But now she´d have to gulp them down, acting as if it didn´t affect her more than she´d like to admit.

It was easier than she thought. Well, probably because Eira hasn´t faced him lately. It would be a different story if she had never fainted and instead would still be participating in training, where Eira would be forced to talk to him.

But instead of spending her time training, she had to be inspected frequently by the physician, who examined her state of health. He'd often tell her that she made progress, but not enough. Her health was improving at a slow pace, which wasn't alarming but not reassuring either. Paired with the unknown reasoning for her current dilemma, his paranoia made him adamant about examining her repeatedly.

This way her daily life was a mix between medical examinations and going through new books, or rather; rereading old ones. It was a bad habit of hers to stick to old stuff and not be open enough to try new things. To say in short: Eira was bored with the last few days. Maybe it would indeed be a good idea to engage in political matters and get out of her shell again, stepping out of her comfort zone. Even if it was only for Canute´s gain. Eira would still try to make the best of it.

Eira then stood up with a determined expression, her chin held high. The books were left in the same condition as before; littered across the dusty hard wooden floor. She didn´t spare them a glance. Instead, she measured her footsteps, careful not to walk too fast in her delicate condition. Eira did not bother to blow out the candles. With a hard thud, she shut the doors to the library, before retreating to her chambers for the first time in a week.

--------

In the morning, she was woken up a by knock; a servant, most likely. The knock was a light one as if frightened to disturb her in her sleep, even though that was the goal. The Person behind the doors must have been a new servant.

If Eira hadn´t had a wonderful sleep in the comforting bedsheets and soft mattress that relieved her back pain, she would simply not have heard the knock but instead snored softly into her pillow. This time though, her eyes immediately opened, her gaze drifting to the blood-soaked sketch hanging on her wall. It reeked almost the rusty metallic scent, though Eira simply ignored it. The paper had already dried, turning to the rusty brown hue of old blood. The drawing was still visible, visualizing the marble statue staring right at the princess lying in bed.

Shutting her eyes, Eira held her breath for a moment before exhaling again. She yawned, sleepily scratching her head. Before another knock could be heard, she called out, "Enter" With an exhausted tone. A servant entered, a Young one indeed. Her gaze was kept to her feet, holding a basket of essentials and fabrics that would be needed for Eira´s morning routine. She stumbled a bit, trembling while doing so. Eira always felt pity for those children. Enslaved after watching their family be torn apart. Though Eira couldn´t help but feel annoyed whenever one of the young slaves was tasked to attend to her. They were like toddlers, bad at everything and needing instruction for every single thing.

"Good morning, Your Highness. I´m here to draw you a bath and dress you accordingly for the day." Her voice was high-pitched and shaky. As if she would start crying any minute. Eira visibly cringed, feeling uncomfortable whenever someone was sobbing or on the verge of tears. Having Estrid as her best friend who cried at the smallest inconvenience or little friendly gesture did not exactly help her to be good at comforting someone. Not that Estrid minded it.

"Leave the gown here and fetch the physician", Eira replied hastily. Throwing the blankets from her body, she jumped up from the bed and went into the bath area. The girl cowered, eyes widening in surprise. Her lip trembled, scared that she had done something wrong. "Yes, Your Highness." She bowed before turning around, softly closing the doors on her way.

Wetting the wooden toothbrush, she smeared the dental cream on the bristles before brushing her teeth in a fast manner. While she did so, her feet carried her to the window sill, watching the scenery of the court. Many people were already outside, lords and ladies conversing with each other, chuckling and scoffing occasionally. After a few strokes, she spits the foam out, cleansing her mouth afterward.

Eira then began to undress before taking a wet rag and scrubbing it across her body. She was too lazy to take the time and draw a bath. It was too bothersome to get the boiling hot water and empty the buckets into her tub. Nor did she have enough time for that anyway. The physician would soon arrive and she´d have to meet with her uncle afterwards. Besides, Eira wasn´t physically active and therefore didn´t sweat as much. Right now she was grateful for it, or else Eira would have not smelled pleasant enough to present herself in court today.

As soon as she finished, Eira grabbed the new gown and began dressing herself. It was bothersome to do that alone, she had to admit. It was annoying enough when others did it for her but putting each layer of clothing on herself was irritating and consumed too much time for her liking. The attire was gorgeous, though. It consisted of a cream-colored dress with grey embroidery in a Norse pattern. The hemline was a red trim adorned with circular motifs which matched the embroidery. Canute had most likely picked out the gown for her since it was a perfect gown for the official occasion. On the bed were multiple necklaces with beads and pendants which she put over her head, pulling her hair up so that strands would not get tangled in the jewelry. Eira then took the grey cloak, draping it over her shoulders, securing two large and round brooches on her dress to keep the cloak in place.

Gazing into the slim mirror next to the dresser, her eyes raked over her appearance. It was important to present herself elegantly, feeling the need to make a good impression as a princess. She noticed the shadows under her eyes being more subtle than before and her skin had won its color again. It was truly astonishing how much of a difference a good night´s rest could make.

Eira hummed approvingly, gliding her fingers through her hair, attempting to braid it into the hairstyle the servants would do on her. She grunted at the look of it, rolling her eyes before reattempting it. After her second try, she gave up. Instead, she reopened the braids and did two smaller sections at the front, connecting them at the back of her head. Then, she walked to the dressing stand and took the necklace her mother had gifted her, adorning it across her collarbone. Eira would never get rid of the memorable gift, that much she was aware of.

As if on cue, a firm knock was heard. "You may enter", the princess called out in a bored tone. An old man with a grey beard entered. Eira was all too familiar with him, having to endure his examinations every single morning. She couldn´t wait to get over it, dreading the moment when his uncomfortable hands would linger on her hands and his eyes would stare into her own.

"Good morning, princess", he greeted with a raspy voice. In his grip was a small chest with a few items he used during the procedures. "Good morning", she replied while sitting down on the bed. She made herself smaller, moving to the edge of the bed when she felt him come closer. "You look beutiful today, if I may say so." His gaze was kept on her as he smiled, his gums showing. Eira´s eyes drifted off to the sketch on the wall, distracting herself from the man next to her. She muttered a low "Thank you", while she nodded. The elder man cleared his throat, and in his hand was a wooden tongue depressor. Eira watched from the corner of her eye, opening her mouth while looking away again.

"Dart your tongue out." His hot breath was fanning over her face, coming too close for her liking. Complying, she darted her tongue out. She felt the piece of dry wood press down on her tongue, sucking all the moisture from her. The few seconds felt like minutes, each moment made her grow even more nervous. She wasn´t sure if it was from the cloak she wore or from the man sitting next to her but she felt herself grow extremely hot. The man was practically shoving his face into her mouth, continuing to stare into the dark area. Eira wondered how he was even able to see anything without any extra light from candles or such.

Feeling her mouth grow numb, she made a sound to alert the old man, to which he took the item out of her. With the raise of a brow, she stared at the man before her, waiting for an answer. "You seem healthy. Made lots of progress." Eira sighed in relief, knowing those examinations would come to an end soon enough. "Do you still suffer from exhaustion, princess?"

"Today I feel a lot better than before. It may just have been because of the lack of proper sleep”, she replied. Biting her lip, she pondered for a moment. "I have been sleeping on a hard wooden floor, after all", Eira added. The physician stared at her as if analyzing every single pore on her face. "May you stand up and walk in a straight line, princess?" Eira furrowed, question marks forming her mind. Hesitantly, she stood up and walked from the bed towards the doors. She did her best to walk straight, not wanting to give the old man any more reason to keep visiting her chambers. When she stopped, Eira turned around to him with a raised brow, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

As the physician began to clear his throat once again, a knock erupted the silence. "You may enter", she loudly called out in an annoyed manner. The doors were opened, and in the door frame did not stand a servant but her uncle dressed in royal garments. The old man quickly stood up from her bed, bowing lowly in front of the regent. "Your Majesty", he greeted while keeping his gaze on the floor. Eira on the other hand curtsied, her eyes went round in surprise. Why did her uncle himself visit her and not task a servant to fetch her instead?

"Your Grace." Canute´s gaze was on the physician, dismissing him before turning to the princess. She felt herself be relieved as the old man left the room, grateful for the interruption of her uncle.

His eyes trailed along her figure, taking in every detail he could muster. He was pleased to see her dressed in the gown he had gotten for her, knowing it would have suited her. "I see you are wearing the dress I´ve picked out for you." His hands were clasped behind his back. Hearing his words, she lowered her gaze to her attire, straightening the creases that were folded into the dress. "It is a beautiful gown", she acknowledged while her gaze met his.

He nodded, motioning to follow her through the door. Eira was quick to follow him, walking beside him as they went through the halls. She ignored the urge to trail her fingers along the stone walls, keeping her hands behind her back instead. "Is there a particular reason as to why you fetched me yourself?" Eira kept her gaze on his face, staring at the scar across his cheek. She wondered where he had gotten it from.

"I wanted to speak with you before the meeting begins", he answered shortly, his eyes staring off into the way they had to walk in. "Alright, what do you want to talk about?" Canute looked at her, his eyes held a hint of strictness in them. "Have you ever been at a council or other meetings?" She nodded, her eyes squinting slightly. It was like he thought of her as a child. Eira did not appreciate the way he made her feel somehow stupid.

"Well, you cannot propose any ideas before consulting me first", he spoke firmly. Eira rolled her eyes in reply but nodded nonetheless. "And do not speak of your mind before rethinking it first. The best would be if you let me talk instead", he added while gazing off into the halls again. "I understand." Eira felt herself grow agitated by her uncle. His stoic demeanor and the fact that he spoke to her as if she was a child that needed to be scolded.

The two kept quiet afterward, a few people greeted and bowed to them in the halls. Besides that, they continued to walk in a straight line. As they entered the grand hall, guards were waiting for the two of them. They bowed, greeting the royal pair. Canute´s gaze switched to the throne at the front, humming quietly before turning to the guards. "Fetch a seat for the princess", his authoritative voice demanded. It made Eira shudder, noticing the difference in the tone he used when talking to her before and now when talking to the guards.

The group of guards complied, splitting in half as the rest stayed with the royal pair while the others went off to bring a second seat according to the request. Then there was silence again, neither daring to say something. Instead, Eira continued to stare at her uncle, watching as his jaw clenched ever so frequently as if he was agitated at something. Not being aware of it, Canute was mirroring her stance.

Disrupting the silence, Canute turned to his niece as he felt her eyes bore into him. "I´ve read the book you´ve given me." Her eyes widened in reply. She didn´t think he´d read a book that she liked, especially not that quickly. The sudden sentence took her off guard. "That fast? Then you must have liked it", she snickered, feeling the tenseness washing slowly away. He blinked, watching her reaction to her words. His words and actions seemed to have a strong influence on her reactions, both negative and positive. Canute was sure to Keep that in mind.

"Yes, I do have a keen interest in history. Especially from other countries." Eira nodded, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. She was happy someone shared the same interests as her, even if it was her uncle who she was not fond of. This way, she at least had a person she could passionately speak of her interests. "Because you can earn a lot from others' past mistakes", she added. Canute nodded, staying quiet as he continued to gaze at her. Eira began to grow nervous under his gaze again, fidgeting with the pendant of her favorite necklace as she stared off to the ground.

Then, the rest of the guards entered with a stool in hand, carrying the heavy weight without shedding a tear of sweat. They placed it next to the king´s before retreating to the side. Eira and Canute then walked forward, taking a seat next to each other. The princess exhaled, her eyes trailing along the artistic decorations of the ceiling. Her fingers grazed the wood of the seat, rubbing her fingertips until she caught splinters, drawing blood. She did not notice and instead continued the motion.

Since the week her father had passed, she had been doing things without noticing, her body moving on its on, unconsciously.

"You haven´t even told me what the meeting is about", she whispered harshly, pressing a splinter deep into her finger. Her hands began to shake all of a sudden as if she was nervous due to what may unfold now. Eira was unprepared, she knew Canute did not tell her anything so she could not speak a word without his consent. It made her furious how he could plan anything without her being able to see through it. Eira was sure she was able to look through his facade, though Canute was able to catch her off guard any time with moves she couldn´t see coming; or rather, was stupid enough to ignore.

Canute rested his arms on the throne, turning to her as he spoke. "You will find out if you listen attentively enough." Eira bit her lip, refusing to make it obvious how infuriated she was with him. No, he shan´t see how he is affecting her.

Eira would try her best now to appear as stoic as her uncle, never letting her guard down. If she did, he would be able to play her like he had just shown he could.

Chapter Text

Unbeknownst to the princess, her blood began to trickle down her light-colored sleeve as she dug her fingers deeper into the scales of wood. Her anxiety increased when two men in particular joined them. Gunnar, a man she held no real interest in, and the man she had been avoiding for the past week.

Wulf was dressed in formal attire, a dark-colored outfit that suited him perfectly, she thought. Gunnar stood beside Canute, joining them on the platform while Wulf stood on the floor, close to Eira´s left. His sword was attached to his hip; a silent threat to anyone who would come too close. The two men bowed, formally greeting Canute and Eira.

Eira nodded in return, as did Canute. She didn´t look him straight in the eye but rather watched the wooden tiles on which he stood. The princess did not notice Wulf watching her, nor did she see the red liquid wetting her sleeves.

Canute cleared his throat before commanding the guards. "Bring them in." The men bowed in return before one guard, in particular, went forward to open the doors.

Waiting in a small room, three men sat close together. Father and sons, stared off onto the cold stone floor. A guard stood beside the doors to the audience hall, waiting for the regent's call. One of the men was rather peculiar. Nervous, anxious even. He stared at his fingertips and bit his lip harshly. His ginger hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, and the sword he had never used for decapitation was secured tightly to his back, carrying a great heaviness for the man; metaphorically and physically.

"I´m so surprised", the elder man spoke up. "I just put in a request yesterday and I´m already granted an audience?" He turned to his eldest son, who met his gaze in return. "I didn´t know you were so influential, Thorgil. I´m proud of you." The tanned man hummed in thought, mumbling in return, "I'm honestly surprised as well. His Majesty is a busy person." His tone was skeptical, suspicious of the eager acceptance of the regent.

"Maybe your tribute did the trick?", Thorgil suggested. The youngest of the trio, Olmar, held his head in his palm, showing disinterest in the current conversation. "That is understandable", Ketil responded. With a wide smile on his face, he added," We produce the best and most abundant crops in the southern region. Even the king won´t regret doing business with us."

A guard opened the door a gap wide, whispering into the other man´s ear, before closing it again. The guard then proceeded to clear his throat, alarming the group of men. "Ketil and company, enter the audience chamber."

Ketil was the first to stand up, eager to meet His Majesty. "Alright, let´s go, Olmar" he turned to his younger son, watching him expectantly. Olmar on the other hand squinted his eyes, frowning at his father. The sweat on his forehead was visible, hinting at the nervosity he felt. "Mind your manners", his father added with a stern tone. Olmar did not reply, following the two elder men while staying quiet.

Olmar felt the anxiety increase as they entered the audience chamber. It was a large hall, and dozens of eyes were on them. It was just as Cold inside as it was in the courtyard, which made him shudder even more. At the front sat two people dressed in royal attire. The man was the English king, Olmar figured. Next to him sat a girl who seemed to be the same age as Olmar himself. He wasn´t quite sure who she was, but he surely admired her looks.

Ketil was the first to walk forward, kneeling in front of the platform. Thorgil was quick to follow his motion, urging for his younger brother to do the same. Canute stared down at them, his gaze burning holes into the trio. Ketil´s smile never wavered, though it turned to a more nervous one, the pearls of sweat on his forehead matching Olmar´s.

Eira noticed a pair of eyes watching her intently, and she was sure it was not Wulf. He kept his eyes shut, his arms crossed in front of his chest while he held guard in front of the princess. Instead, she found the ogling eyes of a redhead kneeling in front of her. He was about as young as her- a mere boy, not a man. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes which matched her own. There was something childlike about him. He had never seen a real battlefield, she figured.

The warriors had always a certain look in their eyes, as if they were dead inside. It is something they all had in common, the same thing she could see in the eyes of the man kneeling on the right side. His presence was almost suffocating, Eira was sure she´d never want to stay in the same room with him alone.

"Ketil, I took a look at your offerings", Canute began. His voice called through the hall, earning the full attention of everyone in the cold chamber. "They were all of very high quality. I will accept them." Eira´s gaze switched to Canute. A trade? Were the men offering something of high value to her uncle?

"Thank you, I am greatly honored", the man replied humbly. So the old geezer in the middle was Ketil, Eira realized. The princess fought the urge to lean her chin on her palm, already growing bored of the conversation. The anxiety began to vanish, instead replaced with boredom, how fitting.

"Were all those products produced on your farm?" Canute´s voice was sharp as if testing the man in front of him. His tone was full of skepticism. At this, Eira raised her eyebrow. Watching Ketil, she tried to gauge his reaction. The man smiled nervously, keeping a firm voice. "Yes, that is correct", he replied.

"The late King Harald was also very fond of our family´s products", the man added. Memories began flooding her mind as Eira´s eyes slightly widened. The past week she had made progress to cope with her grief by repressing the thoughts of her father. Since no one dared to speak about the recent passing of King Harald, it was somehow as if he was forgotten in that short period. Canute would soon be crowned and the rest would be history.

It pained her that it was her fault too. Eira was also beginning to forget him, the only parent she ever had. The feeling of guilt began to seep into her mind, worming its way through her chest.

Weirdly enough, Eira had never seen a glimpse of Ketil. Shouldn´t she have at least met him once if he had been working for her father for decades already?

Canute hummed in return, before replying, "I do not plan on pointlessly changing the ways of my father and brother. Be assured." Eira began to find all the missing puzzles to realize what the conversation was about. The man called Ketil was concerned about his income since the late king who bought all his products has since passed and now he wasn´t sure if Canute would call the trade off.

Though Eira wasn´t quite sure what her uncle´s intentions were.

"Prosperous farmers such as yourself are treasures to Denmark", Canute added. "Take pride in the fact that you are a cornerstone of the nation and keep on working diligently." Eira was equally surprised as Ketil. Hearing praise from King Canute wasn´t very common if dare say a rarity even. The princess was surprised by different reasoning, though; Her uncle was manipulating the man´s trust. With praise, he was lulling Ketil into false security. Eira knew that much for sure, but she hadn´t grasped the Intention behind this.

Why was Canute trapping him in a web?

"I am honored." Ketil´s eyes were practically bulging out of his head. Bowing, he continued, "I deeply appreciate your continued support." Before Canute could respond, the youngest of the trio stood up abruptly with clenched fists. The boy who had just until now been staring at the princess like she was a piece of meat had now a determined expression on his face; a stark contrast to his submissive one from before.

Gunnar, who stood beside the regent, pointed his finger at the boy with a raised chin. Looking down at him, he scolded the redhead. "You are in the presence of the king. Kneel!" Canute seemed indifferent to the bold move, while Eira was trying her best to repress her laughter. It was silly of him to do such an act in front of the most important man of the North Sea.

Ketil´s eyes widened even more, flabbergasted by his son´s sudden demeanor. "Hey! What are you doing?", he yelled. The panic was evident in his tone. "I am terribly sorry!" Ketil spoke as he turned to the king again, lowering his head while asking for forgiveness.

"King Canute! I have a favor to ask!" Olmar now spoke, to Eira´s surprise. His eyes were wide and his voice was equally loud as Ketil´s while he scolded him. "Please let me join your corps! Preferably as a thegn, like my brother."

He would not even survive one day as a thegn. The difference between him and his brother was as clear as day. The mere idea of bringing that up was embarrassing in itself. At least he had the spirit, though.

"I have been training. I will be useful!" His desperate tone gave the purpose of his words away; he was attempting to convince himself, that much was obvious. Unsheathing his sword, he took hold of the handle to display his steel. "I can show you my skill here-" He got interrupted by his father who gripped his arm tightly. "Stop it, you idiot! Don´t unsheathe it here!"

"Let go, old man!" The two wrestled, fighting for the sword in Olmar´s hand. "I want to go to battle!", the ginger exclaimed with a popped-out vein on his forehead. "This is the last straw, idiot!", Ketil replied while attempting to gain hold of the blade. Canute watched in boredom, annoyed by the childish antics displayed before him. Eira on the other hand, was biting her lip in an attempt to hide her amusement. The princess hadn´t seen such a silly thing in a long while, which made the whole interaction even more funny to her.

"This is…", Gunnar mumbled to himself with furrowed brows. "What shall we do, Your Majesty?" Gunnar leaned into the regent´s ear, seeking the king´s advice. Canute kept observing the scene before him, turning to his niece for a moment. Eira´s sleeves were hidden underneath her cloak, hiding the mess she caused.

Noticing his stare, she switched her gaze to her uncle, meeting his eyes. "Let us put his skills to the test", the princess suggested with a sly smile. Canute hummed in reply, turning his gaze back to the scene in front of them. Pointing his finger at the three visitors, he spoke directly to the oldest man in the hall. "I don´t mind, Ketil. Let me see his swordsmanship." Shocked by the king´s request, father and son abruptly halted in their step, staring at Canute with big eyes.

On Canute´s demand, a steaming pig was served on a table, waiting to be cut. "That pig will be tonight´s dinner for the soldiers. Cut it as if it was a human", he elaborated. In front of the pig stood the timid ginger with a sword in hand which suddenly seemed too big for him. "Yes...Here we go."

Feeling laughter boiling up to the surface, the princess pressed her lips into a tight line. She couldn´t help but see humor in the exchange. A boy nearly grown was supposed to cut a pig to earn the king´s admiration? A great story to be told at dinner by the court jester.

Taking a deep breath, Olmar prepared himself for the strike. His father was watching nervously, scared of the outcome while Thorgil observed the steel with skeptical eyes. With a determined expression, he let out a loud war cry that was heard throughout the entire court. Hysterically, he tried to cut through the thick skin of the roasted pig. The steel didn´t cut through, which is why Olmar screamed around even more, trying his best to pierce the pig in half.

"Stop, that´s enough. I understand very well", Canute called out while holding up a hand. The pig was left with mere scratches, emphasizing Olmar´s futile attempt at being a strong warrior. He felt humiliated, his shoulders sagging as he kneeled before the table. "Who knew bones… were so hard?", he mumbled to himself. His gaze was focused on the ground as he panted heavily.

Eira was now covering her mouth with her bloody hand. Her shoulders were shaking under her cloak, her whole body trembling with laughter. The sound alarmed the men around her. Canute´s piercing gaze met hers before it turned into a worried one. Unbeknownst to her, Eira´s fingers tainted her face, smearing it with her blood.

"Someone bring her to the physician!", Canute called out hastily. Slowly, her eyes switched to her hands, finding different splinters dug deep into her fingers. Her palms were coated with red liquid and the wounds seemed deep. She then looked down at the stool she sat in, finding the armrest coated in her blood. Weirdly enough, Eira wasn´t capable of feeling the pain. It was as if she was completely numbed. Her brows creased in confusion.

"May I, Your Majesty?", Wulf questioned as he bowed. His face was contorted into a frown, taking in the current state of the princess. Canute nodded, to which Wulf effortlessly picked her up, careful not to hurt her. Eira wanted to protest, not wanting to be alone with the man she was so smitten with.

Switching his gaze back to the ginger who was watching the princess, Canute stood up from his seat. "Olmar, was it?" As Wulf left the audience chamber with the princess in his arms, Canute spoke up before leaving the hall too. "We will discuss your enrollment as a thegn with the captain and inform you tomorrow morning. Until then, stay within Jelling."

Squirming in his arms, the princess tried to free herself from his grip. "Stop! I can walk on my own!" Stubbornness was something that Eira did not lack. Wulf kept a neutral expression, tightening his grip on her, though not enough to hurt her. Under any other circumstance, she´d be blushing furiously now. "Princess, you are hurt. You shall be kept safe in my arms until the physician can treat you." His words made her stomach flutter, growing nervous under his touch.

"I´m fine!" she gritted her teeth, huffing at the man in front of him. Instead of answering her, he supported the back of her head by holding it with his hand, his fingers grazing through her hair. His embrace was tight but comfortable. It felt as if she was safe in his arms, which Eira knew was true. Though there was no time to enjoy the current position she as in, as the princess felt utter embarrassment at the sight of the small blood stains on his clothes.

"I´ve stained your clothes." She raised her eyes at him, watching with pursed lips. "That is what you worry about, Your Highness?" His comment was meant to come off as a joke but his voice held no humor. The princess rolled her eyes in return, biting the inside of her cheek. Gods, why couldn´t he just let her walk on her own? This way multiple eyes were on the pair, watching the scene unfold before them. Being in the spotlight always made Eira feel uneasy.

Turning around the corner, Wulf halted in front of a tall set of doors, knocking thrice before they were opened. In the doorframe stood the elder man who had examined the princess in the morning. He was dressed in a white gown which was almost completely dirtied by blood. Clearly, he had already been busy.

The man´s eyes went round in surprise at seeing the princess. "I didn´t expect your visit, princess." He had a small grin plastered on his face while he nodded to Wulf. "The princess has caught herself some wounds on her hands", Wulf elaborated on their presence. He did not let go of Eira, but instead entered the chamber with her frail body in his hands. Compared to him, she was light as a feather and he feared she could break easily.

"You can let go of me now", Eira groaned as she puffed out her lips. Wulf carefully placed her on a grey comforter, on which she could rest. The cushion was too hard to be comforting and the fabric reeked of the metallic and rusty scent of old dried blood. Eira had to repress a gag, to hide her disgust. The physician sat in front of her, observing her palms as he took her hands in his. "How did this happen?"

"It may have been from gripping the seat too tight", she answered while Wulf sat next to her. His expression was a calm one, though the slight crease of his brows displayed a hint of worry. "I didn´t notice when it had happened" she affirmed the men´s suspicion.

"Might be from your recent dizziness", Wulf suggested. The elder man began to take out the splinters, each by each with the help of a shard tweezer. She couldn´t feel the sting from the sensation, it was as if all her nerves had died in the area of her hands. Trying to distract herself from the old geezer, she focused her attention on Wulf. He was watching her intently. "How have you been feeling in the last few days, Your Highness?" his question caught Eira off guard.

She wasn´t exactly sure if he was referring to her physical state after she had fallen out of consciousness, or if the meaning behind Wulf´s words was about her father´s death. It pained her to think of him, attempting to completely delete him from her memories. This way, she would be able to protect herself from grief, at least.

Not knowing how to answer, she warily raised her upper body, seating herself next to him as the physician continued to pull out the wood from her hands. "I´m not sure", she replied honestly. Wulf hummed in reply, continuing to gaze at her. His stare made her nervous, not knowing what his thoughts were as he observed the princess next to him.

"Training might help you clear your mind", he suggested. Eira´s mind wandered off to their last training session, the time when they had almost kissed. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she thought of the moment. Eira couldn´t help but still feel awkward around him.

"Continuing your training might be a great idea to improve your health", the physician added. At the sound of his voice, the princess switched her gaze to her hands. The blood was cleaned off and the splinters were piled together on a small tray. The elder man quickly bandaged her, making it seem as if a wound much more serious was hidden beneath the layer of fabric.

"Will that be necessary?" The man looked up to her, raising a brow. "Surely. We don´t want your wounds to get infected, princess." It´s hardly a wound now, is it? She tore her eyes off of him, Crossing her arms in front of her chest as he finished. Without thanking him, she quickly stood up and walked out the door. Wulf turned to him, thanking him in Eira´s stead, before following her.

She was quick on her heel. Wulf had to fasten his pace to walk with her. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Nowhere in particular, just trying to get away from him and the eerie physician. "I´m looking for Estrid. Have you seen her?" He shook his head as he walked with her. "I haven´t. Do you wish for me to accompany your search for the princess?" Eira felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards at his offer, nodding her head softly. "Sure, I wouldn´t mind." Lifting her gaze to watch his scarred face, she grinned softly. "Though I do have an idea as to where she might be", she added.

"Lead the way, princess." he gave her a rare smile of his own, motioning his hand for her to walk forward. Not letting him wait, the princess strolled before turning around the corner. Eira resisted the urge to trail her fingers along the walls, frightened by the possibility it might irritate her wounds.

She continued her stride, ending up at the front gate to the royal gardens. Leaning out of the frame, her gaze landed on a spot in particular. Estrid sat under the beautiful tree where Eira had spent her time with her friend. "I´ve found her." The man next to her followed her eyes, landing on the blonde princess. "Very well, I´ll take my leave now." Eira nodded, earning a bow in return. "Farewell", she called out to him before he left. As he vanished from her sight, Eira turned to the gardens once again, now fully stepping outside the castle halls.

The cold breeze immediately made her shiver, to which she clung to her cloak. Her sleeves were still dirtied from her wounds since Eira forgot to change into new clothes. She´d do that later, but first, she wanted to speak with Estrid. She felt guilty for neglecting their friendship in the past few days, it´s not like she did it on purpose. Eira felt like shit and honestly still does, but she now trying her best to put more effort for the sake of herself and others.

The scent of flowers filled her nostrils, calming her mind somehow. Besides the windy weather, it was comforting to walk through the gardens. The variety of colors was a change for once, a stark contrast to the plain color palette of the castle´s interior. Eira quickly draped the cloak´s hood over her head, shielding her hair from the harsh wind. Eira was surprised at the fact that Estrid deliberately sat outside under those weather conditions. Normally she would stay inside and practice her embroidery.

As Eira walked near, she noticed a book in her friend´s hand. Smiling, she approached the princess. "Estrid." The blonde´s eyes went round at the sound of her voice, quickly switching her gaze to her friend. The princess got up from the ground, neglecting the book on the grass as she engulfed her niece in a tight embrace. "How are you?" Estrid´s gloomy expression turned into a delighted one, beaming at the sight of her best friend. "I feel better." Gifting her a toothy smile of hers, Estrid pulled out of the embrace, taking hold of her hand. At the sensation of fabric, her gaze fell onto Eira´s Hand, seeing the bandage draped around it.

Her brows furrowed, and her eyes held a hint of concern in them. "What happened?", she asked while raising her niece´s hand. Sighing, Eira swatted her hand away, patting her friend´s shoulder. "I caught splinters. Nothing too serious." Estrid´s eyes wandered up to her stained sleeves. "Your gown says otherwise."

"It´s a long story and I´d rather speak about something more fun", Eira replied with a huff. "What did you do today?" Estrid´s eyes glinted with joy at the question, smiling as she reached for the book on the ground, picking it up before intertwining her arm with her friend´s. "I visited the library today." Eira´s eyes widened at her friend´s words. "Truly? That is very unlike of you" she chuckled while speaking.

Nodding, she grinned at her companion while keeping a steady pace on her feet. "You like to spend most of your time there, so I thought it wouldn´t hurt to try out." Tilting her head to the side, Eira smirked at her. "And?"

"Meh," Estrid shrugged her shoulders, teasing Eira. She rolled her eyes in reply, smiling to herself as she heard her friend´s laughter. Eira enjoyed spending time with her, especially since Estrid was a carefree spirit, lightening up the room with her friendly persona.

"Well, my day was very… interesting", Eira began. Her gaze was focused on the grass, watching how it was trampled under her feet. "I can imagine", Estrid replied thoughtfully while her gaze was focused on the bandages on Eira´s bandages. "His Majesty offered me to accompany him during a meeting with some farmers..." She couldn´t keep in her laughter as her mind wandered off to the recent encounter with the men. "What happened?", Estrid asked while chuckling herself at the girl´s unusual bubbly demeanor.

"There was a father with his two sons-" Another chuckle erupted from her, halting as she steadied herself on her knees. "The old man was trading with uncle before his son interrupted them, pleading His Majesty to make him a thegn." She paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Eira wasn´t exactly sure why she found the encounter so funny. "I told uncle to make him test his skill, which is why a roasted pig was brought." Dumbfounded, Estrid stared at her. "A... pig?"

"Yes! He was demanded to cut the pig in half. A task rather easy to nail as a thegn, don´t you agree?" Eira snorted. "That boy was hysterical! Cutting through that skin like a maniac would. And no, he didn´t fulfill the task." Estrid furrowed her brows. "How old was he?" Confused, Eira tilted her head towards her kin and thought for a moment. "I´d say around the same age as me."

"He was truly desperate, wailing around like a babe afterward!" Estrid crossed her arms in front of her chest, gazing at her with a frown. "To me, it sounds like he tried his best. That was most likely very important to the boy. Why do you find humor in that?" Now it was Eira´s turn to stare dumbfoundedly. Her lips were softly parted. "Huh?"

"You are making fun of him even though he probably tried his best" she elaborated while pursing her lips. "Don´t take it so seriously", Eira replied with a sigh of hers. "I feel bad. It must have been humiliating enough for him to fail at something he desperately wanted to succeed at."

Instead of answering, she stared at her friend´s upset manner. It was out of her comprehension how a person could be so compassionate and empathetic. Often she admired Estrid for it and even felt jealous because of it. Other times such as now she felt extremely annoyed.

Eira scoffed, letting go of the matter at hand. She didn´t want to fight with her over such a stupid thing. "I´ll apologize to him if I see the boy again." Eira attempted to soothe her friend with those words.

Estrid nodded, the grin reappearing on her face. "Let us go inside, I must bring the book back to the library", she suggested while holding the said item in her hand. "But do make haste, I must change out of those clothes.“

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Chapter Text

"I’m surprised you and Canute get along now.” Estrid’s words made the younger princess turn around in surprise. The two stood before a bookshelf as Estrid slid the book back into its previous place. Dust covered her fingertips, to which she removed a piece of cloth, and cleaned herself with it.

“How come you think that?” crossing her arms, Eira pouted at her with squinted eyes. “Huh?” she raised a brow at her defensive reaction. Estrid believed the relationship between her kin had improved, which brought her joy. After King Harald´s death, they were the last remaining relatives, which is why she put so much emphasis on getting along with one another. Family members must stick together, especially in such sorrowful times.

“Was he not the one to suggest you should accompany him?” stuffing the napkin inside her pocket, Estrid looked back up to her. “That does not mean we're friends.” Reaching for a book, Eira added, “He offered it so I'd learn more about political matters. Though I'm sure he benefitted from it.” she huffed while saying the last bit with a sour expression.

“Well, you two still spent time together without being forced to”, Estrid replied with a small grin. Shooting her a warning glare, Eira quickly shut her up before walking towards the exit. “Wait for me!”, her friend yelled as she struggled to catch up.

“Are you even supposed to move this quick?” she panted while following her. Halting abruptly, Estrid almost ran into her. “It was a week ago, I’m fine now.”

“Well, you still haven't fully recovered from it.” Estrid’s eyes wandered down the girl’s covered palms. Sensing her gaze, Eira let them drop to the side, the book she chose was held tightly in her right palm. “I’ll go and change my gown. Farewell.” she bid her goodbye, waving at Estrid while going in a different direction.

“See you at dinner”, she replied softly with furrowed brows while watching her departing figure. Eira’s gaze fell once again on the new book in her hand, which didn't have a title on it. The rough fabric of its cover rubbed against her bandages, slightly ripping it open.

Rolling her eyes at the now fuzzy cloth, the corners of her mouth twitched downward into a frown. As she raised her gaze, Eira noticed she stood lonely in the castle walls. Somehow, the thought of being alone in such a grand place seemed surreal to her. Normally the hall would be full of nobles, greeting each other, and taking a stroll. Now, Eira didn´t even catch sight of any guard. She was utterly alone now, which made her blood almost freeze, besides wearing a coat to keep her warm.

Biting her lip, she glanced at her feet before continuing her walk, wanting to escape this place that suddenly seemed too frightening to her. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hall, the only sound that could be heard. It didn´t take long for her to finally arrive at her chambers. She was quick to yank the door open in a frenzied manner, not wasting any minutes before shutting the door behind her with a loud thud.

Eira took a deep breath as she collapsed to the floor, hugging her knees tightly against her chest while she hid her head in between the gap. Her book fell out of her hands and lay on the floor beside her. The room was quiet, besides the ragged breathing coming from the princess. She felt her entire body tremble all of a sudden, even though she was just fine a few minutes ago. Now being alone, she was exposed to her depressive thoughts clouding her consciousness. She didn´t know why she was reacting like this or what the trigger to her hectic state could be.

She was hyperventilating and had a hard time breathing normally. Each breath felt like a stab through the chest as if her lungs were filled with toxins through which they couldn´t take any air. Eira didn´t notice how harshly she bit her lip, not sensing when droplets of blood trailed down her lip, adding new wounds to the many she already had from that fucking habit of hers.

She hugged herself closer, as tight as she possibly could. Never had she felt this small. Eira didn´t know how long she sat there. It could have been minutes or hours, she didn´t have any sense of time at that moment. The only thing she could concentrate on was her breathing. How her breath became uneven and quicker and how much the princess tried her best to inhale without feeling that fierce pain through her chest.

Why did she feel this shit? And what the fuck was this pain she felt? It was the first time she had ever experienced such a thing. Falling unconscious was quite different from this, so she was sure this was something entirely different. Eira couldn´t comprehend why her health sucked so bad, the only thought nagging at the back of her mind was of her father. Every time Eira felt alone, her mind began to drift off to the death of him. Since the night he passed away, she always had new issues concerning her health. Eira was sure she was the only person who had this struggle, so why did she suffer so much?

After what felt like hours, Eira finally stood up from her spot, instead laying down on the soft mattress of her bed. From there she glanced at the ceiling, watching the artistic details engraved into the walls. She blinked a couple of times, fighting the tears away. Her gaze then wandered to her bedside wall, catching sight of the sketch that hung on the wall. Liking her lips, she tasted the metallic liquid that was spread across her flesh.

Raising herself to stand on her knees, she reached forward to kiss the piece of paper, leaving a bloody pair of lips next to the goddess Eir. The princess turned around, gazing at the statue next to her dresser. The expression on her face was calm and peaceful, entirely different from Eira´s. Somehow, she felt miserable by the fact she was not anything like her. It was always her goal to follow her role model, setting expectations way too high for herself. When speaking of wanting to be like Eir herself, King Harald chuckled at the young princess, patting her head while reassuring her she would succeed at it.

Eira never wanted anything more than to be a good queen to her folk, making her father proud as she reigned over a kingdom without war. Although now she knew her dream would never be fulfilled. Her education and everything Eira had ever fought for would be shattered as soon as she married a man out of her league. All those things would be good for nothing. And the worst thing was that she would leave everything behind. Her home, her best friend, and her hobbies.

And all that only because her father didn´t see her fit as heir. She grew up preparing herself for the role of a monarch, which was for the sole purpose of being a spare. If Eira knew she was never seriously considered an heir, she would have never made it her meaning of life. Now, Eira didn´t know what to do. Bearing children and being a wife, that was not her purpose.

Eira grasped the bedsheets tightly, gripping them with all her might. She was not sure what to feel. Anger? Sorrow? Happiness for being rid of such a big responsibility?

Sighing, she hid her head between her pillows, her hair acting as curtains to shield her from the harsh reality that she must face. Her groans were muffled by the fabric, silencing her cries of agony. Slowly but surely, Eira felt her breathing turning more even and balanced. After a few moments of keeping her eyes shut, she reopened them before ultimately standing up. Her steps guided her to her closet, taking a random gown that caught her eye. Quickly, she began to undress herself before draping the gown over her head.

The dress wasn´t nearly as warm as the previous one. Its sleeves were only 3/4 long and its cleavage was more showing than the neckline of Canute´s gown. The dress was of a rich red and its pattern also consisted of Nordic embroidery. At least the fabric was soft. Eira hated it when the fabric was too rough since it would irritate her skin.

Eira proceeded to drape the cloak over her shoulders to keep her warm, attaching the brooches on each side. After that she discarded the old dress, throwing it somewhere on the floor where a servant would later take care of it.

Afterward, Eira picked up the book from the floor before sitting back on her bed. Wanting to calm down, she decided to spend the rest of the afternoon inside her chambers, occupying her mind with reading the new book. It was comforting to be able to distract herself from her dilemma, even if it was only short-lived. Eira knew as soon as she would lay in bed, waiting for sleep to catch up with her at night, panic would settle over her once again.

After a few hours of reading, she hadn´t noticed the sun dipping below the horizon, casting an orange hue glowing through her window. It had already turned dark by the time Eira had to light a few candles in the dark of her room. It was then the moment when a servant arrived, knocking on her door thrice before waiting for Eira´s call.

"You may enter", the princess called out. In response, a woman dressed in servant´s attire walked through the door. She bowed before raising her head. "Dinner is served, Your Highness."

The princess nodded in return, getting up from the bed while she walked towards the mirror. She turned towards the servant before glancing at the pile of fabrics. "I have no use for the dress anymore." Eira pointed towards the bloody gown thrown carelessly on the floor beside her bed. The servant nodded, quick to pick it up.

Eira stared into the mirror, proofing her appearance. Gladly there was no physical evidence of her previous panic attack, besides how her hands would still tremble if one looked close enough to notice. Trying to fake a smile, she attempted a few times to twitch the corners of her mouth upward in a believable way. Scraping the idea off after failing, Eira turned her frown into a neutral expression.

The servant then reached for the doorknob, opening the tall doors to let the princess exit first. She then closed the doors behind her before leading the way to the dining chambers. Eira was perfectly able to find the way alone, for she walked the same path every day, though in this moment she preferred to be accompanied through the halls.

The walk felt shorter than usual and it did not take long until Eira stood before the closed doors leading to the hall. She took a deep breath before the servant opened them, guiding the princess to enter first. "Princess Eira has arrived", the servant called out while bowing. Quickly, she pulled out a chair from the table, waiting for the princess to sit down before pushing her towards the table and leaving to go to the servant´s kitchen.

"Good evening, Your Majesty. Estrid." She greeted the two respectively, before raising her goblet to be filled with wine. "Good evening, Eira. How is your injury?" his gaze landed on her bandages, genuine concern laced in his eyes. "I´m fine. Only minor wounds, if all", she responded while fiddling with the fuzzy fabric. He kept watching her as he hummed in return. "I´m glad to hear that."

Estrid watched the interaction with a smile, finding it comforting to see her kin be friendly to one another. It was a stark contrast to the time Canute had arrived at Jelling, where the two of them treated the other with pure hostility. Or rather, what she thought of as a friendly interaction.

While the trio was eating the Food served on their plates, thoughts of today´s meeting kept nagging at the back of her head. Due to being taken away for medical treatment, Eira wasn´t able to speak with Canute concerning the audience he allowed the farmers. Eira knew there were certain reasons behind his acceptance of Ketil´s proposal. She was sure that Canute had wicked intentions behind his actions, planning something the princess couldn´t quite wrap her head around.

It was only natural for Eira to question him in this scenario, for he was the one to pull her into the subject at hand. So Canute was forced to answer her questions, wasn´t he? She did have a right to know, after all.

The dinner was finished within twenty minutes, neither of them accepting the dessert, except for Estrid who ate the small piece of cake with only three bites, munching down on it happily while a few crumbles of the sweet food covered the corners of her mouth. Although she was quick to wipe them away with her napkin, folding it neatly beside her dirty plate. Eira on the other hand was not too fond of sweets, which is why she completely skipped the addition. And Canute, who was paranoid of poison in everything that could consist of it, denied it before even considering to eat the cake in the first place.

Estrid was the first to leave her place, standing up from her seat and curtsying. Eira waved at her, saying her goodbyes while she watched her leave. As Estrid´s Silhouette left the chambers, Eira´s gaze landed on her uncle who was cleaning himself with a napkin. Nervously, she gulped before speaking up. “Your Majesty, may I ask you something?” her words were formal, keeping a distance between the two.

Glancing at the princess, he folded the cloth neatly beside his dish, similar to Estrid, nodding at her. “Be quick with it.” Having to attend a late meeting with Wulf and Gunnar, Canute was indeed in a hurry.

Eira bit her lip, fiddling with the bandages on her palms. “What is it that you want with Ketil?”, she bluntly asked. Straight-forward, he noticed.

Ponding over the situation, Canute cleared his throat before answering. “If you are keen on knowing, then come with me.” standing up as he was speaking, he motioned for her to stand up as well. Confused, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Go where?"

"I have to attend a meeting with Gunnar and Wulf, concerning the matter at hand. You may come along and you´ll find answers to your questions." Knowing this would be a great way to gain her trust and to become more familiar with her, he offered her to accompany him once again. This way he´d also spare himself a heated discussion about the topic with her.

"Would they be alright with it?" her tone was wary. Canute waved her off in return, ensuring her there was no need to worry. "They won´t put the actions of a king in question." Nodding, she carefully stood up before following him through the doors. Walking beside him, Eira did her best to keep her gaze straight ahead, for gazing at him made her anxious. Especially if he was already staring at her, which she often found him doing. Each time made her shudder, uncomfortable to be the target of his cold piercing gaze.

Only a few times Eira gained the courage to be feisty, displaying her true feelings towards him. Those tended to be only fleeting moments where her bitterness clouded her mind, which is why she made snarky remarks at him.

They kept quiet during their short walk, walking in sync until they arrived at a door, Canute´s study to be exact. The two halted in front of the door, waiting as Canute pulled out the keys from his pocket before unlocking the door. Eira quirked a brow at this, wondering why he´d lock the chambers every time after use.

Opening the door, he let her enter first before going inside himself. He lit a few candles, lightening up the dark room. This way, Eira could see the messy interior. Dozens of books were stapled on top of the desk, instead of being placed in the already overfilled bookshelf. Although it was messy, the room radiated some sort of coziness. It may be because it reminded Eira of her own chambers. From the looks of it, his study could perfectly be her room. The amount of books lying everywhere but on their respective shelves, and the wax from the candles dripping down into hardened poles in the air.

"We must wait a moment before they arrive", he told her as he reached for a bowl, lighting sage before putting it into the bowl and placing it on the desk which was already filled with numerous scrolls. Looking around the room in awe, she nodded absently while glancing at his grand book collection. Noticing the direction in which she glanced, Canute cleared his throat before speaking. "You can take a few books with you if some catch your interest."

Turning around to meet his gaze, her eyes slightly lit up. "You like reading a lot, don´t you, Your Majesty?" He smirked at her question, resting his chin in his palm as he sat on a chair. "I do enjoy reading, yes." Trailing her clothed fingers across a book´s cover, a question came to her mind. "Are these books from England?"

As Eira joined him, sitting down at the desk next to him, Canute replied, "Most of them are from my childhood here, but a respective amount of the books are brought here from England." She tilted her head slightly at his response, lifting her gaze from the book. "You´ve brought that many here to Jelling?" she gasped slightly in bewilderment. "They are very dear to me", he replied while chuckling softly. He found her amazed reaction rather amusing, especially when he only saw the grumpy side of her at other times.

Before Eira could reply, a knock was heard through the room. The sudden loud sound startled her, making her jump slightly in her seat. "Come in" Canute spoke in a firm tone. Afterward, the door was opened. Gunnar and Wulf stood in the doorframe, bowing before the king while greeting him. At the sight of the princess sitting next to King Canute, Gunnar´s eyes widened. The king had not only the nerve to invite her to the meeting with Ketil but made her come along now too. A princess, a mere girl had no place in political matters! Gunnar was agitated and furious, though he was smart enough not to display his anger with the king.

"What a surprise, Your Highness is present as well?" he spoke nervously while Wulf stayed indifferent, besides the corners of his mouth twitching slightly up.

"Yes, she is." Turning his head to Wulf, he added, "Have you decided for the boy?" His words piqued her interest, quirking a brow. "What boy?" Gunnar felt himself become more agitated at her question. If she hadn´t been here and asked irrelevant questions, the meeting would have been over much sooner. "Olmar, Ketil´s son. Wulf will decide if he will join the corps as a thegn." Furrowing her brows at her uncle, she replied, "You´re considering him as a thegn?" She wasn´t sure if she had missed anything after she was brought to the physician. But from what she could tell, Olmar had more potential as a laughing stock than as a warrior.

"You will understand.." Canute glanced at Wulf once again, raising a brow as he waited for an answer. "He´s typical…", Wulf began. Eira switched her gaze to him, silently admiring his scars while she listened. "He has no skill but has a big ego. He does not know his ability at all." His posture remained rigid as he informed the king formally, Gunnar standing beside him.

"People like him are the first to die on the battlefield. I wouldn´t want him as a subordinate", he added honestly. Canute crossed his arms in front of his chest, listening intently to what he said. "I understand your opinion as a captain. Now let me hear your other opinion."

Eira only felt confusion the more she listened in on the conversation. Where was this leading to?

Opening his eyes, Wulf glanced at the princess before his focus stayed on Canute. The short amount of eye contact was enough for her to feel the heat rise to her cheeks. "That young man is very useful", Wulf answered the king´s question, to which he replied, "I agree. We must use him."

Use him? What were the three of them planning? Now Eira began to feel bad for Olmar, agreeing with Estrid on the matter.

"He´s a typical Nordic youth. A foolish one at that." Eira agreed with her uncle´s words, though she didn´t exactly know what he wanted to explain by saying that. "He will do exactly what we want him to do." Though she had numerous questions roaming around her mind, Eira decided to continue to listen instead of asking more questions.

"So we´ll go with that plan?" Gunnar was now the one to speak up. Finally hearing the word "plan", made her eyes widen. She knew her Uncle had something in mind after all. A small grin graced her lips, knowing that she was able to look through his facade quickly.

"Let it begin. I have yet to be enthroned, but this opportunity is too good to pass up. It is for the peace of the whole nation." Trailing the scar across his face with his thumb, he thought of the sacrifice that must be made in order to achieve the paradise he dreamt of. "That man named Ketil will be requisition number one."

Gasping at the revelation, Eira quickly lowered her head to hide her reaction. "Very well", Gunnar replied as Wulf nodded. "You two are dismissed", Canute told them as they bowed. His tone was authoritative during the entire conversation. The two men complied as they left his study, closing the door behind them.

As soon as she heard the door being shut, she lifted her gaze to look at Canute for a fleeting moment. "Were all your questions answered, dear niece?" his gaze bore through hers, making her look away nervously while shaking her head. "How does a requisition lead to the peace of the nation?"

"Ketil´s farm is quite vast. If it were the crown´s property, it would be able to produce food with no extra costs while feeding our subjects. This way, we´d have enough sources to feed the common folk without problems", he elaborated. Eira nodded in reply, though she still felt uneasy at the thought of an innocent man being robbed of his lands.

"What about Ketil? Don´t you think that´s unfair to claim his lands as our own?" her tone was wary while questioning her uncle´s motives. Canute shook his head in reply, answering, "He is no innocent man. He claimed to be a skillful warrior named Iron Fist Ketil, through which he was able to gain so much profit. He did the same thing but worse. Built his legacy on a lie."

She furrowed her brows at his explanation, angered by the audacity a simple man like Ketil had to create an entire empire based on a lie. This way, he got credited for another man´s work, being able to have his own grand farm while living off a celebrity´s name. Maybe he did deserve what was awaiting him after all.

"I understand", she replied while humming to herself. Eira traced a circled pattern on the book´s front cover while pondering over the current Situation. "Although I didn´t figure you as a ruler who seeks peace", she confessed with a low voice. Canute furrowed his brows at her, seemingly interested in how she perceived him. "What did you think of me as?" his voice matched her´s from the volume.

Pondering, it took a moment before reluctantly answering. "Power-hungry, not caring about his own people", she muttered bluntly in the hope he didn´t quite understand her words. Unfortunately, he did. To her surprise, he chuckled in response to her words, not how she expected him to react at all. "Interesting. Though it is wise for a king to care for his country and its people."

"Without the support of commoners, royals would have no power, for they are dependent on them", she added while nodding. Canute´s eyes widened slightly as he listened to her, surprised at her intellect and understanding of complex matters. Without having experience as a ruler, Eira knew what it took to be a good one, laying importance on the right things. At this moment, he held her in high regard, utterly impressed by her intelligence.

"Indeed." The corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile as he watched her. Though obviously intimidated, she still spoke her mind out loud, telling him honestly what she thought. It gladdened him, for he knew not one single person who didn´t openly lie to him. This way, Canute knew he could count on her opinion.

Dropping the topic for now, since it was already late, he turned to the book in her hand. "Have you already decided which books you´d like?" Raising her gaze, she glanced up at him. "I might try this book." Reading the cover, he pondered over its content, before remembering it. "I think you will enjoy it. When you´re finished with it, you can borrow other ones if the library bores you."

She nodded at him, fighting off the urge to smile at the display of kindness, for she knew of his deceiving nature. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Glancing outside the window, seeing the gloomy atmosphere that hid the gardens, Eira curtsied before Standing up from her previous spot. "It is late. I should retire to my Chambers for the night, Your Majesty." Canute followed her gaze outside, seeing the eerie scenery. "A guard shall accompany you through the halls", he replied while Standing up as well, Opening the door before motioning for a guard to come. His steps echoed throughout the quiet halls before they halted in front of the door frame.

The guard bowed at the two before Canute commanded him to accompany the princess to her chambers. Turning around to glance at her uncle, she quirked a brow. "Won´t you retire for the night as well?" He shook his head, sighing as he watched her. "I still have scrolls to read through."

Her gaze landed on the scar across his cheek as she listened, nodding before telling her goodbyes. "Good night, Your Majesty." She curtsied as Canute lowered his head in acknowledgment. "Sleep well, dear niece."

After that, the door was closed and Canute was left alone in his study. Sighing, he turned to his desk, sitting down before beginning to read through the many scrolls.

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Chapter Text

It didn´t take long until Ketil´s presence would wreak havoc in Jelling. His two sons were ultimately the cause of the killings that took place in the afternoon. Multiple corps of King Canute was murdered after being sent to arrest Ketil and his family for treason by Olmar killing the king´s messenger.

Soon after the message was spread and Wulf was on his way to inform the king of this tragedy, or rather, convenience.

The captain was on top of the fortress, walking towards the English King with a guard in tow. The wind blew through Canute´s hair as he stared off into the outside of the castle, his sight focused on the woods. Soon, he was able to hear the footsteps nearing, halting shortly afterward.

Canute did not raise his head to meet their eyes, but instead, he kept watching the scenery intently as Wulf spoke. The captain was quick to deliver his message, only speaking of the key information that was needed to proceed with their plan.

Canute hummed in reply, his stern eyes not wavering for a moment before he finally spoke up, "I see… Ketil and his family escaped, huh?" It wasn´t surprising to him but rather planned. Canute took advantage of Olmar´s weakness and calculated the entire scene. The only thing that was not expected, was Thorgil being enraged and murdering the corps, resulting in Ketil escaping instead of being thrown in a cell.

However, it was perfect for Canute´s plan since he now had a better reason to requisition Ketil´s farm. Everything went accordingly, satisfying the young king.

"I apologize, Your Majesty", Wulf replied while lowering his head submissively. "We´re staking out their ship and inn, but they haven´t shown up. We´re currently searching." At this, Canute decided to switch his gaze to the captain, listening quietly as Wulf spoke.

"It is my responsibility for not being able to restrain Thorgil" The last bit of his sentence was highlighted with a bitter tone. Canute then focused on the scenery again, his eyes were more round now, different from his previous stern expression. "He seems to be a very skilled warrior."

Bowing, Wulf nodded while agreeing, "Yes, he was a good subordinate." Wulf was somewhat upset at the ´betrayal´ of Thorgil. Not that he felt hurt by Thorgil going behind his back by any means, but instead failing to recruit loyal thegns for the king.

"It doesn´t affect our plan. We still have an excuse to execute judgment. We will head to Ketil´s farm according to schedule." Wulf joined his side, watching the sunset in silence. "If Ketil is not there, so be it. If he is there and resists, we just have to subdue them" his voice was calm as Canute spoke, seemingly confident in his plan.

"Yes, sir. I will dispatch 32 thegns to be Your Majesty´s bodyguards. Floki and his Jomsvikings would be an additional 70, so we will have an army of 102 soldiers", Wulf declared. "That should be enough. When will Floki arrive?", Canute inquired while he watched the sun drop below the horizon, the clouds turning orange with pink hues, leaving the sky to appear purple.

Wulf was quick to reply, "He´ll arrive from Jomsborg within three days."

"Well then, in three days, we will depart at dawn." Turning to the pair, Canute sternly gazed at them. "You may leave." Bowing, the pair simultaneously addressed the king before turning on their heel to leave the premises.

When they left, the sound of leaves rustling through the trees could be heard more clearly, alerting the blonde man. Furrowing his brows, he watched the wooden fence in despair. A dark spot appeared on the surface before forming into a head; his father´s head, to be exact.

A usual, laughter filled Canute´s ears as he watched the dead man smirking at him. Canute was quick to change his expression, showing a clear sign of boredom and annoyance as the corners of his mouth twitched downward. "What are you laughing at, King Sweyn?" his voice was laced with venom as he spoke with hostility.

"Don´t be so mad. There´s nothing wrong with a father being happy to see his son growing up to be just like him." His relaxed tone was a stark contrast to the one of Canute. Sweyn´s words wounded him, knowing what kind of a horrible man his father was. Being compared to him felt like an insult, especially since Canute acted like this for a good cause, different from his father, the former king of Denmark.

He continued to chuckle, taunting Canute as he watched quietly with squinted eyes. "keep marching ahead. To reach the summit, you will need more corpses." His macabre words irked the young man, causing him to scoff in return.

"Laugh at me all you want, curse me all you want. Everything is for the sake of a peaceful world" Determination was evident on his face, equally as in his words and his voice. Staring at the illusion through his eyelashes, he continued to speak, "Everything is for the sake of the love that was once lost."

Painful images clouded his mind, images of his father figure and himself. The time they´ve spent with each other, core memories that were ingrained in the depths of his consciousness.

If the lord himself truly wouldn´t abandon his children, then the tragedies humans have to go through would have never taken place. "God loves all his children" The sentence was a mere farce, nothing more. A prosperous promise to convert people to the Christian belief. A promise which held no truth in it. The true reason behind Canute´s urge to create a utopia for the Vikings; give the people the promised paradise of god, for he abandoned his own.

Canute´s blasphemous thoughts distracted him, not realizing the illusion of his dead father had already vanished. Blinking, he watched the spot where illusion previously sat, burning holes into the wooden surface. He kept silent, the only sound emerging from the harsh wind rustling through the trees. Clenching his fists, he stayed still for a moment, as if he was anticipating something to happen. Nothing came.

Then, his feet decided to move, carrying him back into the castle. The wind pushed through his hair, moving a few strands in his face which clouded his sight. Although he didn´t care enough to move them aside, keeping his palms into clenched fists at his side.

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"What?", Eira gasped before scoffing, disguising her amusement with shock. The princess sat next to her friend who held a spooked expression, truly scared, different from Eira who only feigned it. The duo was seated on a comforter, opposing the dark-haired man who sat on a stool next to the fireplace. Bookshelves were on each wall, along with different books littered across the table in the middle of the three.

"And you wanted me to apologize to him!" Eira huffed at Estrid with wide eyes, trying her best to have her scowl not turn into a smile. ´I was right and told you so´ was etched into her mind during the entire conversation, a feeling of triumph washing over her. This time Eira was sure she´d have a smug expression by now if she didn´t try to hide it.

"I didn´t know any better!" her blond brows were pushed together as she frowned, feeling the need to explain herself under the intense gaze of her companion. "Based on what you´ve told me, he sounded like a timid boy." Rolling her eyes, Eira let a small smirk form. "Yes, the all-so-timid boy slashed his way through our corps." As she watched the scowl form on Estrid´s face, she teased her by saying, "Didn´t know you sympathize with scoundrels."

Bewildered by her insensitive remark, Estrid crossed her arms in front of her chest while staring at her. "How can you joke about such a thing?" Wulf kept quiet as he observed the two girls arguing, seemingly not interested in the topic at all.

Based on the scowl on the princess's face, Estrid reminded her of a mother who´d be angry with her pampered child. A cheeky grin graced her lips as she thought of it. "Don´t be so fussy", she replied with humor laced in her tone. Estrid´s cheeks started to flush as her brows continued to crease into folds. "What- I-", stuttering, she tried to find the right words as a counter, although her embarrassed state refrained her from doing so.

Growing tired of being a mere spectator to their childish bickering, Wulf cleared his throat. Instantly, the two girls focused their attention on him, ignoring their previous entanglement. "In three days' time, his Majesty will depart for travel to imprison the men himself." Wulf glanced at Eira as he spoke, gauging her reaction. Estrid was the odd one out, not knowing of the plan for requisition.

Humming to herself, Eira decided to say naught and bit her lip instead. She was curious about the outcome, knowing her uncle would succeed in his mission, but the question was to what extent? A war was highly unlikely, for Ketil didn´t have nearly as many troops as did the monarch. But there surely would be an uproar, wouldn´t there be?

"Those murderers must be thrown into cells", Estrid agreed while nodding. Her expression was absent, thinking about the awful acts they´d committed. Eira bit her tongue, refraining from spurring on a new argument on how she shouldn´t be empathetic with every individual.

Eira´s gaze fell on the book in her lap, the same book she had borrowed from Canute. Tracing patterns on the rough cover, she watched as her fingers bent to each motion. Her hands were wrapped in fresh bandages in the morning, replacing the fuzzy ones from yesterday. Her wounds didn´t look all too bad, though the physician still insisted on covering them up.

A servant entered the hall, opening the doors to the library before alerting her presence with words. "Princess Estrid, You are late to Your embroidery lesson", the woman addressed the blonde princess who seemed to panic quite a bit. Her eyes widened as she quickly stood up from her seat. "Oh, I wasn´t aware." Turning around, she bid her goodbye to Wulf and Eira before following the servant out the door which was closed afterward.

After we return from Ketil´s farm, we can pick up your training lessons again, mhm?" His words were now directed at Eira alone, who switched her gaze from the item in her lap to his scarred face. "Yes, that would be lovely" she smiled, directing her gaze towards a random bookshelf in order not to look at him. Wulf himself had smiled at her, sensing her nervousity.

She´d only be like this when the two of them were alone. On other occasions, Eira would simply focus her attention on someone else, which was hard to do when she was alone with him. "Have you missed arching?" his question seemingly caught her off guard, hence her eyes slightly went round.

She thought for a moment before replying, "I suppose I have. It was my favorite activity, after all." He hummed and silence engulfed the two. Eira began to pick at her bandages, staring holes into the bookshelf. Wulf followed her gaze, observing the books which were placed on each shelf.

Eira gulped before mumbling, "Thank you for teaching me archery." Slowly, she raised her gaze only to meet his own. She felt heat rise to her cheeks as he continued to hold eye contact, growing more nervous with each second that passed by. "You mustn´t thank me for that."

Fiddling with the pendant of her cherished necklace, she gave him a coy smile. A blush covered her cheeks, which seemed to be quite alluring to Wulf. He didn´t think it through when he stood up, holding out a hand for hers to take. Her brows furrowed and her mouth was slightly agape, but she took his hand nonetheless, placing the book on the comforter before standing up to her feet. His skin was calloused and rough. Small scars were etched onto his skin, each scar telling its own little story about the things he had achieved.

It was the thing she cherished the most about him. Wulf was an admirable warrior with experience and wisdom. It had always fascinated her how intelligent he seemed to be. Eira had already developed feelings for him when she was just a mere young girl. Now she was barely a woman grown and still infatuated with him, which was indeed a bit embarrassing to admit.

His touch was arm, and his grasp was firm. She could already feel how much strength he wielded, even though he had barely held her. Tilting his head downward, he looked into her eyes. His other hand went forward to caress her cheek. His touch burned on her skin and she felt her heart beat faster as she could feel his breath against her neck.

Slowly, his thumb went forward to her lip, pushing the tip between her flesh. Eira swallowed hard, not knowing how to react or what to do. She stayed still, watching as he retracted his thumb from her mouth. She looked into his eyes as his fingers entangled themselves between her hair. Afterward, he leaned in, hesitant to kiss her. His rough lips met her soft ones, pressing them against one another. Shocked, Eira was slow to reciprocate since she didn´t realize what was happening.

When he moved away, her half-lidded eyes shot back up, grabbing him by his neck to pull him in. Smashing her lips against his, she groaned into the kiss. Wulf´s tongue was quick to enter her mouth as she pulled him closer, gripping him by his collar. She huffed into the kiss, to which he smiled in return.

Breathless, they parted from each other, before Wulf planted a soft kiss on her lips. Chuckling, she earned the raise of a brow from Wulf. "What amuses you?" Eira softly touched her lips as she smiled to herself. "I did not know you felt that way." Wulf was now the one to furrow his brows, letting out a chuckle himself. "You may be a princess, but not a jester." Playfully slapping his chest she let out a gasp. "It is no jest!"

Remembering the moment during training when they had almost kissed before Wulf had pulled away, Eira was sure he didn´t harbor the same feelings. "I thought it was obvious, but not." Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she feigned a scowl. "You sure are a gallant man, stealing my first kiss." Leaning into his ear, she whispered, "Which should be reserved for my husband."

"Then I must apologize", he replied before turning to her, capturing her lips in another curt kiss. Smiling into the kiss, she pulled him away before biting her lip with a shy-like demeanor. "We should refrain from displaying such things in public places", she warned.

"Very wise, princess." His gaze was focused on her swollen lips and the way her chest would rise. Eira on the other hand pursed her lips as she started to become quiet, walking forward to grab the book from the comforter. "It´d be best if I go now. I can imagine I´m distracting you from duty currently." He tried to protest, though Wulf was aware her words were true. "Very well, Your Majesty." Kissing her palm, he bowed before letting go of her hand. She curtsied, smiling at him before turning on her heel.

After she closed the doors behind her, she let out a deep breath, grasping the book tightly against her chest. She couldn´t quite comprehend the situation she was in, nor what it would mean for her. Eira was aware she could lose face if anyone had noticed their interaction.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly and she did not know how to cope with that. Just yesterday she held a small- but pleasant conversation with her uncle who she thought she despised, now the man she harbored feelings for since she was a young girl had reciprocated her feelings. The man she thought had rejected her? And with the death of her father, it was too much for her.

She was confused with herself and those around her. Her hands began to shake, similar to yesterday. Horror was seen on her face, for she was terrified of going through the same experience once again. Her feet quickly carried her to the garden, where she was able to breathe fresh air. It seemed to calm her quicker, although the wind wasn´t as pleasant. She ignored it, instead walking towards her beloved tree.

She was quick to sit down on the wet grass. She didn´t remember any rain, though the mud started to stain her clothes. Not that she cared at that moment. If her hands weren´t covered by bandages, she would have already run her fingers through the cold and wet grass, knowing it would stimulate her somehow.

Focusing on her breathing, she began to inhale deeply before exhaling, slowly repeating those steps. Raising the book in her grasp, she leaned on the tree, propping up her legs to place the book in her lap. She opened the first page, reading through it. She read the second, the third, and the fourth. She read the words written on each page, though she didn´t pay them any attention. Her mind was occupied with practically anything else besides the words from the pages.

It was frustrating how weird everything felt for her after Harald´s death. It´s like she didn´t function normally anymore. Physically with her dozens of injuries, nor mentally with the frequent attacks she experiences, coupled with the anxiety she feels when she´s alone. It felt unnatural how the problems only appeared when she was alone, it felt like one of the gods decided to torment her.

What did she do to deserve this treatment by the gods? Was she cursed? Are the gods merely doing this as a joke since she was a disgrace to her namesake, not being able to live up to Eir herself? Curse Odin, curse Heimdall, curse Eir herself!

If they were the reason for her dilemma, then they should all screw themselves!

She groaned, facepalming before she directed her gaze at the book again. The book her uncle had given her. Why did he display such kindness? Was it a farce to distract her from the obvious? To gain her trust to manipulate her?

Thinking back to their previous encounters, Eira noticed her hostility originated from prejudices. Her hate for her uncle had already formed before he even arrived in Jelling, it had already started when her father decided to name him his heir, instead of his own daughter.

Maybe Canute didn´t deserve this treatment, for it was Harald´s own decision to name him instead of her. Then why should she direct her anger at him if he wasn´t to blame for it? Eira did admit it was easy to hate him, to direct all her frustration and anger towards him, but it was hard to swallow her pride and accept her fate.

She´d never become queen, that was much obvious, though Eira didn´t accept that quite yet. If she did, she wouldn´t act this way, would she? Might this have been the reason for her agony? If it was, then it would mean her agony wouldn´t end any soon. First, she´d have to try and overcome any negative feelings to feel at ease.

But Eira wasn´t mature enough to realize that, no. Instead, she focused on distracting herself with anything possible. Instead, she´d let the cold engulf her body, leaving her trembling underneath the cloak that was supposed to keep her warm. It failed her, just like her father had failed her when deciding her fate.

She clenched the fabric of the cloak, so tight that she could feel the muscles of her fingers strain from the motion. The corners of her mouth were switched downward into a frown, her brows were creased into folds as she glared daggers at the piece of cloth. Biting down harshly on her lip, she drew blood from her flesh. Tasting the familiar iron on her lips, her teeth released her flesh. The cold was starting to burn her lips, drying them out like a piece of meat slowly would after being exposed to air.

She felt at ease with him, not thinking about the usual things that disturbed her mind. May this be the way of distracting herself from everything? Eira didn´t know if it was the right way, but it was worth a try. She´d try anything to stay sane in this moment, without her breathing becoming irregular whenever she was alone, for she usually preferred to spend her time in no one´s presence.

Eira closed her eyes for a moment, breathing calmly before she switched back to the first page, rereading the book´s content. Her clothed fingers were freezing in the cold, numbing them to the extent that Eira wasn´t able to switch the pages after some time. It was then that she decided to go back inside the castle before she would eventually die of hypothermia. She creased the page on which she stopped reading before closing the book and raising to her feet.

She took quick steps to escape the cold, shielding herself from it once she arrived inside the castle halls. Her gaze landed on the book in her hand; deciding to read more, her feet carried her back to the library. The fireplace was still lit, for which she was thankful. She seated herself in front of it, opening up the book to continue her reading. Slowly, she was able to move her fingers quicker than before, not needing to make an effort to switch through each page anymore. The book didn´t consist of that many pages, maybe three hundred at most.

Therefore Eira was able to finish it in one sitting, closing the book after being fully warmed up. Her body didn´t feel tense anymore, nor did she tremble underneath her cloak anymore. The only times she´d shudder was when her mind drifted off to her kiss with Wulf and her fingers went forward to caress her lip, mimicking his previous motions.

Staring at the book´s cover, she squinted her eyes before standing up and placing the book under her arm. It had already turned dark by now and Eira felt hunger overcome her, hence she left the library, where she was already halted in the halls.

A servant had seemed to already be sent to fetch the princess, who looked glad to have found her. A smile graced the servant´s lips as she addressed her, "Your Majesty, dinner has already been served."

"Great, I´ll find my own way to the dining halls", she replied with a small smile of her own. Glancing at the book in Eira´s hand, the servant asked her, "Shall I bring your book to your chambers?"

Eira then followed her gaze, watching the book in her hand. She had already finished reading it and wanted to give it back to Canute. After all, she had only borrowed it and hoped to lend a new one, for his taste in books was similar to hers.

"Oh, no. It´s quite alright, you´re dismissed." Bowing, the servant bid her goodbye before continuing on her way. Inhaling deeply, Eira continued to walk through the halls, her path leading the princess to the doors of the dining hall.

Halting in front of it, a guard bowed in acknowledgment before opening the tall set of doors for her, announcing her presence to the ones who already sat at the table.

"We were wondering when you´d come. You´re lucky we waited, instead of feasting without you", Estrid remarked with a grin, sitting patiently at the table next to Canute.

"I apologize for the delay. I do hope you can forgive me, princess", Eira replied with a smirk. Bowing to her uncle, she greeted him first before sitting down next to him.

"Dinner shall be served now", Estrid exclaimed while clapping her hands in excitement and to alert the servants in the hall.

Chapter Text

Soon after seating herself at the table, servants carried dozens of dishes, placing them in random order before filling each goblet with wine. Eira put the book next to her empty plate before raising her freshly filled goblet to her lips. The scent of the sweet liquor filled her nostrils, overwhelming her quite a bit. Nonetheless, she gulped the liquid down.

Canute noticed the book placed on the table, his gaze focusing on the princess afterward. “Is the book to your liking?” Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she nodded before swiftly placing the goblet on the table again. “I have finished it, actually.”

Canute smiled in return, amused by her response. “Then I change my wording; was the book to your liking?” Eira didn´t need to think twice before nodding at him, glancing at the book's cover, and raising her gaze to him. "It was. I couldn´t help but notice how similar our book tastes are." Surprised, Estrid´s gaze switched between the two, grinning at their interaction while she began to fill her mouth with savory food.

Before raising his fork to his mouth, Canute replied, "A good thing, isn´t it? This way we can recommend books to each other" his smile didn´t quite reach his eyes, which were rid of any emotions. Eira felt a shiver run up her spine, staring right into his eyes was something she was not comfortable with. The mere feeling of having his eyes on her made Eira uneasy. It felt as if he could read her like a book, needing just one sole look to do so.

She didn't appreciate feeling so exposed. Nodding curtly, she focused her gaze on her own plate instead, reaching forward to add a food of her liking to her plate. Clearing her throat, Estrid turned to her brother. “So you will depart in three days, yes?” her droopy tone hinted at her contempt for the situation.

He munched on his food while nodding, wiping the crumbles from his lips with a napkin. "Indeed. Although the travel won´t be long." Washing the food down with a chug of his wine, he added, "I won´t be long gone, if that worries you." Estrid glanced at Eira who´s eyes were focused on the book next to her.

"How long do you think?" she kept nagging, just as any sister would. "A week, I´d presume." Eira´s eyes narrowed at the newfound information, upset with the long wait. She´d stay an entire week without seeing Wulf at all. Now that Eira was aware of his feelings for her, it made it even harder for her to live through the next few days without him. She may sound pathetic because of that, but it was the first time she had ever experienced such a thing, after all. A week without seeing Wulf. One week where the men of the realm would use the regent´s absence to their advantage. But Wulf´s absence bugged her the most. Come to think of it, what were those two even? Could she call him her paramour?

The entire situation was still very confusing to her, for she had never acted on her romantic feelings for anyone.

"How unfortunate", Eira chimed in, her gaze didn´t waver from her plate as she spoke. "When is the coronation planned, then?" Canute´s eyes lit up at the question, focusing his entire attention on his niece. Knowing that as soon as his coronation would take place, so would his plan. By the end of the month, he´d be a man in wedlock, if everything goes according to it. Raising his brows at her, Canute replied," As soon as I arrive."

She hummed in acknowledgment, twirling the fork over the plate before lifting it to her mouth. Ignoring the urge to frown at his words, Eira couldn´t help but feel upset at the news. That bitterness she felt creep up in her chest never wavered when the subject of succession was at hand. Eira may have accepted the fact that her uncle wasn´t the devil she painted him as, although he still was the one to steal her birthright. Due to her stubbornness, she still felt some sort of hostility towards him, besides knowing that it was solely her father´s decision to plant her uncle on the throne, instead of her.

"Are you excited?" Estrid smiled at her brother, chugging the rest of her wine. "I look forward to it. Although it does hold great responsibility." Glancing up from her plate, Eira´s eyes glinted at his words. "But you are a king already", she countered with a raise of a brow. With a small chuckle, he replied, "Reigning over the Danish kingdom is a grand feat, don´t you agree?"

Furrowing her brows, her mouth was slightly parted as she pondered over his words. "Indeed, Your Majesty." With a satisfied hum, Canute turned to his plate, munching on the last few bites. After the conversation had ended, so did the dinner. The three of them swiftly cleared their plates before standing up from their respective seats. Hesitating, Eira picked up the book from the table, turning to Canute as she did.

Glancing at her, his eyes moved to the cover in her grasp before moving up to her face. "I assume you want to visit my study?" a small smirk was plastered on his face as he asked. She gave him a small nod, waiting for him to take the lead. Estrid had already bid her goodbye, retiring to her chambers for the rest of the evening. The grip on the book had tightened itself, her clothed fingers digging into the rough cover.

Gulping, Eira silently followed him into the hallway. The halls were lit up by the torches on each wall, bringing a warm hue into the otherwise gloomy darkness. Guards were bowing out of respect, greeting them with a monotone voice. Their heavy armor clunked with each small movement, the noises filling the silent atmosphere.

Canute and Eira were walking alongside one another, not saying anything like usual. After a few more steps they halted in front of the locked door, to which Canute grabbed a pair of jiggling keys, unlocking the door by entering a silver key into the golden keyhole. Afterward, he held the door open, waiting for her to enter first before shutting the door behind him. Eira took small steps before gazing at the different bookshelves.

Canute observed her while taking a seat by his desk, glimpsing at the few unopened scrolls awaiting him. Squinting her eyes in thought, Eira waited for a moment before turning to him. "Where shall I put the book?" Not being able to sense some sort of arrangement the books were organized in, she felt helpless.

"Let me help you", he replied while standing up from his seat, joining her side by the bookshelves. Reaching forward, he waited for her to give him the book, glancing at the cover after she did. Humming, he then observed the bookshelf in front of him, inspecting each title before he found a space, sliding the book in the spot. "I´m not sure if I told you last time, but I admire your collection", she said thoughtfully. Her eyes were practically glued to each title, pondering over which one she´d chosen.

Smirking at her, he let out an airy chuckle in reply. "Thank you." Leaning on the side of the bookshelf, he continued to stare at her awestruck demeanor with amusement. Hesitantly, she reached for a book, inspecting it closer with squinted eyes before she held it close to her chest. "Would you lend me this one, if you don´t mind?" Noticing his stare, she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, her eyes quickly darting off to rest on the new book instead.

"I don´t mind", he replied with a softer voice, delighted by the effect he had on her. It was just so easy to get a reaction out of her, it was truly hilarious.

Murmuring a thank you in reply, she walked forward to reach for the doorknob. "I will retire for the night, Your Majesty." Curtsying, she shared eye contact with her uncle who nodded in reply, watching as she quickly exited the room. She quietly shut the door, careful not to make any noise. After that, she was quick on her feet to arrive at her chambers and throw herself into bed after dressing in a silky nightgown.

With a sigh, she covered herself with the thick wool blanket, shielding her from the harsh cold. Gazing outside the window, she watched the moon illuminating the night sky. It was the first night in a while where thoughts didn´t distract her from a good night´s sleep. Instead, her mind replayed the kiss she shared with Wulf, focusing on how his lips felt on his. How he pulled her to his chest, holding her close. How truly safe she felt in his embrace and how he guided her through the kiss.

The next morning wasn´t as spectacular. Several servants woke her from her sleep before helping her get ready for the day. It took Eira a few hours before she fully defrosted from her sleep, slacking off at her history lesson. Her mentor had scolded her many times for reciting several things wrong, to which the princess barely mumbled an apology, rolling her eyes while doing so. Hence why both of them were glad when the lesson came to it´s end today.

After exiting the study, her feet dragged her first things first to the training grounds, where she was sure a certain captain was practicing His Majesty´s sword fighting. The sun shone outside, warming her much better than yesterday. The last few days were filled with a grey and cloudy sky, along with harsh wind. With a grin she leaned on the side of the porch, observing Wulf who was currently putting his sword aside. Eira sighed, pouting at the fact she wouldn´t be able to watch him fight anymore. Her eyes darted towards her uncle, who was engrossed in a conversation with him while ruffling his hair, a helm in his hand.

A soft smile graced her lips as she watched the two of them walking towards her way, or rather, the exit. As soon as they were near, she curtsied in front of her uncle, who gave her a nod of approval. After that, he continued to be on his way while Wulf, ever so the gentleman, halted in front of her. "Your Highness", he greeted her while bowing. Now standing right next to her, she was able to see the sweat glistening along his tanned skin, appearing like some sort of glow.

"Wulf" she smiled, crossing her arms behind her back while glancing at him. Walking beside him back into the castle, she sparked up a conversation, "I take it the training went well?" Wulf wiped the sweat off his forehead, giving her a closed-eye smile. "His Majesty is progressing", he replied with the hint of a chuckle, making her break out in laughter. "That sure sounds promising", she jested while locking her arm in his, the two of them striding through the halls.

"He may be a sly fox-" Keeping a sure grasp on his hard arm, she interrupted him, "But you are a wolf." Smirking at her wordplay, she clenched her fingers around his muscles. He snickered in return, glancing down at her before they arrived at the library. "Quick-witted you are", he added while holding the doors open for her. Grinning at him, she walked forward before resting herself on the comforter. Wulf sat beside her, letting her rest her legs on his lap.

She traced the patterns on her dress while sighing softly. The soft cushion was greatly comforting to her resting backside, even more comforting was Wulf´s lap. Noticing her motions, Wulf observed her hands, humming to himself in thought. "Those aren´t fresh bandages", he stated matter-of-factly. Pursing her lips, she lifted her gaze off her dress and stared at him instead. "I didn´t have enough time to visit the physician, yet." Scoffing, he raised a brow at her while rubbing her legs beneath her skirt.

"Liar, you have had enough time to visit me", he objected, his caresses slowly reaching up toward her thighs. His touch left a burning sensation on her skin, her breath hitching in return. Inhaling slowly, she squinted her eyes at him before changing her pose, sitting now upright. Her cheeks were flushed and she felt her pulse quicken. "Accusing a princess is considered treason", she began before boldly sitting on his lap, her arms resting on each side behind the nape of his neck. "Besides, I´d rather just visit you instead", she murmured into his ear, her hot breath fanning over him.

He snaked his arms around her waist, his hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her in place. Not waiting around, Wulf quickly leaned into her, his rough lips colliding with her soft ones. A gasp erupted from her, resulting in him sliding his tongue inside her mouth. His fingers clenched around the flesh of her hips while pulling her closer against his chest. Moaning into the kiss, she entangled her fingers between his dark hair strands, tugging at them.

Feeling a bulge form underneath her, she smiled into the kiss. Her heart was beating fast and the blood was rushing to her head. Slowly, Wulf began to guide her hips by rocking them against his own. The friction caused both of them to moan and Eira pulled at his hair. She felt her cunt pulse with arousal, a pool of wetness forming at her core. Pulling away for air, a string of saliva connected them while they panted for air.

He stared at her intently, his brows furrowed and she was able to see lust in his gaze. Roughly she leaned in for a kiss again, moaning his name in a soft tone, which drove him feral. Keeping his strong grip on her, he continued to rock her hips against his own, resulting in her rubbing against his hardened cock. Her breathing became irregular, occasionally had to inhale deeply.

Her eyes were kept shut, parting from the kiss she rested her cheek against his while breathing for air. The feeling of his aching sex continuously grinding against her own got to her head, the feeling of euphoria increasing. "Wulf, I-" Before she could finish her sentence, that same feeling of euphoria began to overflow, overwhelming her with pure bliss. Pulling his neck tighter against her, she whimpered while trying to come down from her high.

Slowly, his hand trailed underneath her skirt, pulling at her undergarments. Gripping his shoulders, she turned to look into his eyes while hesitating, "We shouldn´t" Her voice was wary while speaking. Instead of replying, he was quick to pull his hand away and kiss her softly instead of pulling her into a hug. Eira sighed softly into the crook of his neck, leaving a small kiss on his skin.

-------

The next few days before the department was spent with heated make-out sessions between Wulf and Eira, though she stopped him before it could lead to anything more serious. She hadn´t felt ready for such a thing yet. Besides, she wanted to save her virtue for her future husband, just as it should be. While she wasn´t an active participant in the religion and didn´t believe the tales herself, she was raised as a Christian and therefore followed certain traditions, like saving oneself for marriage.

As great as the last days were, they had eventually come to an end, to which His Majesty himself along with Wulf and dozens of other thegns would depart for Ketil´s farm. She already knew how bored she would grow to be in the week of Wulf´s absence, which is why she had made it her goal to spend every single day with her friend, Estrid.

Standing outside in the courtyard, Eira and Estrid had been watching the men load His Majesty´s luggage on a small carriage. Canute himself had been standing along with them, bidding his goodbyes to a sobbing Estrid. Eira had tried her best to console her aunt, letting her cry her heart out which led to her wetting the girl´s shoulder. Wearing her heart on her sleeve made Princess Estrid definitely a unique person.

Waving goodbye to the king, the two princesses watched as he was guided to a horse, which was already saddled for him. When Eira turned around and noticed Wulf walking toward her, she didn´t notice Estrid leave her side to run to Canute to hug him tightly before he truly left. A smile graced Eira´s lips as he took a few steps before bowing in front of her, the small stones beneath him crumbling with each step he took.

"I will miss you", she admitted while sighing at him, observing the attire he wore. It was a brown tunic, and his beloved sword clung tightly to his hip. "I would feel hurt if you didn´t, Your Highness", he replied with a hint of a smile, the scars on his face creasing with each motion. "Try not to get yourself hurt", she told him while crossing her arms in front of her chest, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I will come back in one piece", he promised her. "I think it´s time for you to leave now", she pondered while her eyes darted over the men saddling the horses. "Without your blessings?", he feigned shock while gasping at her. With the roll of an eye, she pulled out a red handkerchief from her pocket, kissing it before handing it to him. With a soft smile, he took the piece of cloth in his hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it himself. Giggling, she watched him while attempting to come off as annoyed.

"I will cherish this with my heart", he added proudly before stuffing the handkerchief inside his pocket. On the other side of the yard, Estrid had sobbed into her brother´s chest, who squinted his eyes in annoyance. "It´s alright, sister." Patting her back, he attempts to soothe her sorrow before pulling out of the embrace. When she finally let him go, his eyes scanned the area before landing on his niece and his most trusted advisor.

With clenched fists he watched as she gave him the red piece of cloth, biting his lips as he kissed it in return. Canute did have a slight idea of his interest in the princess, although he didn´t expect her to reciprocate his advances. This was bad for him, acting as an obstacle to his plan. Groaning, he tore his eyes from the two, pondering over how he could possibly handle the situation accordingly.

"Don´t do anything stupid while I´m away", he warned his sister with narrowed eyes in a somewhat scolding manner. When she nodded and gave him a sad smile, he smiled in satisfaction, an idea popping into his head.

Wulf was quick to meet His Majesty´s side after his encounter with Eira, the handkerchief in his pocket acting as a reminder to think of her. The two princesses waved frantically as they watched the men depart for good, sighing as they watched them disappear from their sight. With a sigh, Eira turned her head toward the castle, waving for Estrid to follow her. "The weather is quite nice, let us visit the gardens", she suggested with a small smile. She intended to distract her sad friend, knowing that picking a few flowers would do such.

"Sure, that sounds nice", Estrid replied with a soft smile herself, turning around to link her arm with her friend´s. A soft breeze passed the two, swaying their hair through the air. It´s not that bad, you know." Glancing at Eira puzzlingly, she raised a brow to wait for an elaboration. "Just me and you now, he has to make the best out of it, don´t you agree?" A grin formed on the princess´s face, watching the mischievous expression of Eira. "You might just be right", she replied thoughtfully while continuing to walk with her.

---------

Four ships were littered across the North Sea, the wind being the only sound one could hear that far out in the ocean. Watching the small waves with a stern expression, Canute heard footsteps nearing him, before they halted at his side. "The wind is favorable, Your Majesty", Wulf exclaimed with a calm tone, his gaze also focused on the scenery. "If these fair winds continue, we will be able to arrive at Ketil´s farm in two or three days." Wulf wasn´t the only man seeking His Majesty´s attention, for Floki had joined the pair also. His cream-colored cloak was draped over his shoulder, a fashionable choice he always wore.

"In any case… to think that the king himself is going to confront some wealthy family from the countryside…", he began while a small smirk was slowly etching its way on his face. "We Jomsvikings, would have been more than capable of taking care of it", he added cocky. Wulf didn´t spare the old man a glance when he replied, "King Canute has his own reasons, Floki." When he realized that Canute didn´t plan to join in on the conversation yet, Wulf continued, "As a vassal, you should refrain from sticking your nose into such issues."

"Jomsburg is an ally. I don´t exactly consider myself a vassal, then. Please keep that in mind, Wulf." The smirk on the old man´s face didn´t vanish as he replied to the captain, the creases on his skin deepening as his grin got wider. "Let me ask you a question; Do you think Ketil and his men will resist against their king?" Canute was now the one to speak up, his gaze still focused on the blue sea. "I can´t say for sure, I heard that Ketil was so fierce that he was named Iron Fist on the battlefield. We can´t let our guard down." Floki stumbled over his words, not easily regaining his confidence from before.

"He sure didn´t seem that way" Canute´s eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Humans are a valuable resource. I don´t want to waste them. If Ketil cowers before my power as king and surrenders, that would be best", he concluded stoically. Glancing at the king, Floki thoughtfully hummed before speaking himself. "Is that why you chose to confront them yourself?" Before Canute was able to answer his question, Floki added, "However, they are the ones who acted so shamelessly toward you, Your Majesty."

"Shouldn´t we punish them and have them serve as a warning to the people?", the old man inquired with a sharp tone. Canute pondered over his words for a moment, straightening his back while he kept staring into nothingness. "I won´t have any mercy if they resist."

"There's a tailwind. However, the waves are high and the land I seek is still far off", Canute whispered to no one but himself, seemingly in thought as he listened to the waves break and splash onto the ocean´s surface.

Chapter Text

Barely three days had passed since Canute´s departure when new guests had arrived at the Danish court. It was a fairly cold day, and the wind was not quite pleasant, hence why the princess wore a thick cloak to keep warm. Suppressing the urge to groan at the new message, she instead gave Gunnar a soft smile in return.

Eira was walking through the halls when Gunnar noticed her presence and decided to talk to her, reluctantly if so. After informing her of the arrival of a noble, her demeanor quickly darkened, although she hid it quite well. She knew what that most likely meant: that a certain individual had arrived to court her or her aunt, Estrid.

"I will make sure to greet them."

"Do make haste, they are currently waiting", the man replied. Due to his obnoxious persona, she quickly felt irritated by him. Eira bit her tongue, though she didn´t back down without shooting the man a nasty glare. She wasn´t one to be easily commanded to one´s whim. He didn´t say anything in return- or couldn´t- when Eira stormed off, turning around quickly as her feet carried her through the halls.

Eira did not turn her back to throw him a glance before she hurried off to the courtyard. Her fingers were clenched around the fabric of her skirt, lifting it so she wouldn´t trip. A few people observed her with confused glances, though she paid them no mind.

Eira made sure she´d calmly walk through the yard before stepping into her guest's view. She couldn´t possibly allow herself to lose face if those guests thought of her as a lunatic with no sense of etiquette. Therefore she tried her best to regulate her breathing from the sudden physical activity while throwing a glance towards her fingers. They were slightly oily to the touch, since her physician was adamant about applying lotion to her fingers, even though they were free of any scratches.

As soon as she was able to persuade him to get rid of the bandages, the exciting feeling of touching anything with her bare fingertips rushed to her mind. Eira didn´t hesitate to trail her fingers along the stone walls, or caress the rough book covers lent from her uncle. It was a feeling she welcomed very much, sighing softly when she sought the all-too-familiar friction.

Straightening her posture, Eira cleared her throat before focusing her gaze on the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard. Watching as a man exited the small carriage, she felt her jaw clenching while her hands were balled into fists. Quickly, she straightened her palms again before crossing them behind her back as she continued to walk forward until she ultimately halted in front of the carriage.

She wondered where Estrid was. Usually, she was the one fond of greeting guests at court. As much as she kept to herself with only Eira as her anchor, she could be described as a social butterfly. It lay within her nature to be gleeful whenever she had the chance to speak with new people and if the ladies at court weren´t such snakes as Eira would always tell her, Estrid would often make new friends.

Therefore Estrid was much more pliant when ordered to greet new guests, hence why Eira was confused about the lack of her presence.

She felt her pulse quickening while she raised her gaze, meeting the eyes of that certain individual, to which her eyes slightly widened. She hadn´t anticipated for him to be so... young. Most lords that came to visit the Danish court were already middle-aged or reaching that, while the boy in front of her was most likely a year younger. It was... somehow refreshing to see such a young face, lacking wrinkles.

Almost immediately a wave of calmness washed over her, drowning the anxiety she felt beforehand. Ranking her eyes over his figure, Eira silently took in his features in order to burn them into her mind. High cheekbones accentuated his face, along with dozens of light freckles scattered across his skin. His eyes had a brilliant blue, reminding her of the dark sky.

Eira was able to see her mirrored reflection in his eyes, standing rigid in front of him.
His blonde hair was pulled into a mere braid, except for the few wavy strands which adorned his face. He seemed like a charming boy, a bit shy even from the way he bashfully stared off to the side while kneeling in front of her. "You must be the princess Eira" his voice was soft, sweet like honey. Nodding, she did a small curtsy in front of him, gifting him a trained smile.

"My name is Adalgund of house Andersen, You Highness" she offered him her palm, on which he pressed a soft kiss. His lips felt incredibly warm against her cold hand, a stark contrast in temperature which made her shudder. Retracting her hand from his grasp, she nodded in acknowledgment while keeping her gaze on him. He was handsome, she´s got to admit, although she felt no real attraction towards him.

"I apologize for my nervousness, it is my first time meeting a royal", he admitted with a timid voice, the anxiety clear in his tone. It was a bit humorous to see a person be so affected by her presence alone. Dismissively swatting her hand, she replied with a more genuine smile. "There´s no need to apologize, nor do you have to be so tense around me."

As if on cue, his posture relaxed a tad bit more, and when he looked up at her, a smile graced his lips. He did seem sweet, he would probably get along well with Estrid, she thought.
Several servants walked forward to carry his luggage, alarming the pair. Eira bit the inside of her cheek, glancing toward the castle front before turning to the boy again.

A thought crossed her mind as she pondered over the carried luggage. "Care for a tour of the castle?" her tone was as light as the fabric of her outer skirt, which bounced slightly as she swiftly turned around.

"Very much, thank you" he answered politely before following the princess. Their pace was steady, although not too fast in order for it still to be considered a stroll. The two of them walked side by side, sauntering through the courtyard before finally entering the inner castle. Inside it was still evidently cold, though it did bring more comfort to the pair, instead walking through the harsh wind.

"You´re not a lord, are you?" Eira began to spark up a conversation by indirectly asking him about his age, for he appeared to be a youngling still. Adalgund turned to meet her questioning gaze and the corners of his mouth twitched upward as he spoke. "No, my father is the lord of house Andersen." Raising her brows at his words, she continued to watch him intently.

It´s surprising. Normally, Eira was not one to hold much eye contact, since she often grew nervous by it. Usually, she´d stare off into a corner or stare at her hands while picking at her fingernails when holding a conversation. However, the person next to her was obviously more anxious than her and clearly her junior, which made her feel at ease. Eira knew he wouldn´t be as judgemental as someone twenty years older and therefore she wasn´t as stuck up.

"And he didn´t come along?" The tip of his ears turned red at her question as he stared in the opposite direction, scratching his nape awkwardly. Eira was amused at the display, fighting back a smirk as she awaited his answer. She now knew how easy it was to taunt him or merely tease him.

"W-well no, he only wished for me to visit the Danish court…", he stammered out while he felt himself grow hot.

It was extremely embarrassing for him to be this flustered in the presence of a princess and stuttering in front of her, no less. "Why´s that?", she egged him on, already anticipating the answer with a sly grin gracing her lips. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she turned around a corner, now guiding him through the small gallery.

He let out a shaky breath and tried to distract himself by observing the art hung on the wall. "My father wants me to court you" Eira barely heard his words, since he spoke so quietly now. Her eyes widened at his bluntness, not expecting him to say the truth so directly. She would have thought he´d dance around it, keeping his intention more vague.

"Oh," she didn´t know how or what to answer, completely dumbfounded, to say the least. How the hell was she supposed to keep the conversation from turning awkward now?
Eira joined his side, admiring the drawing in silence. She eventually felt him tense beside her when she realized he wouldn´t say anything more. "How old are you?" Eira cleared her throat before asking while she actively kept her gaze on the object in front of her.

"Sixteen, Your Highness", he replied quietly before moving on his feet again, sauntering over to the other art pieces.

Of age already, huh? That was probably the reason why his father ushered him to court her. They were almost the same age, although she couldn´t help but notice the differences between the two of them, especially in terms of maturity so she believed.

"Did you recently have your birthday?", Eira inquired with a hint of curiousness coating her tone. Her feet quickly carried her to be in sync with him, slowly guiding him out of the small hall. Adalgund seemed hesitant to reply, staring off to the side once again as he stuffed his hands inside his pockets- normally not a proper thing to do near a royal, not like Eira cared anyway.

"A moon ago", he replied sheepishly. The small pebbles beneath his feet crumbled with each step as they neared the gardens, a cold breeze passing them. Gladly, they both possessed a cloak to be at least a bit protected from the cold. They still did feel the cold, which is why goosebumps covered Eira´s arms beneath the fabric.

Eira hummed in reply, pondering over his words as she observed the small flowers which slowly began to grow, despite the harsh weather conditions. A soft smile graced her lips as she took in the variety of colors, satisfied with the work of the gardeners. She almost even forgot to say something in return, completely distracted by nature. As if pulled out of a trance, she turned around to see him already staring at her with an unreadable expression.

"Seems like your father can´t wait to marry you off", she jested half-heartedly. The irony of it made her almost chuckle, knowing it would have fitted his situation better if he was a girl. Adalgund noticed the grin on her face and soon began to giggle himself while staring at the flowers.

"Do you come here often?“

"I do, it´s my favorite spot in the entire castle", she admitted with a soft sigh. "I visit the gardens whenever I can. During summer it is a great place to spend the entire evening at, though the cold is quite repulsive in the winter." Adalgund listened quietly to her words, growing more relaxed with each passing minute. Being in her presence is more comforting than he initially thought.

"I can imagine" he absentmindedly kicked a pebble with the tip of his shoe, listening to how loud the wind passed through them. Both of their cheeks, along with the tip of their noses had already turned red due to the freezing temperature, appearing as if they both had applied blush to their face.

An idea crossed Eira´s mind as she watched the boy next to her, humming to herself before turning to meet his reddened face. "Do you know how to use a bow?" Despite the cold chipping away at her skin, she couldn´t help but grin at the thought of finally touching a bow again. Only hope could make her not catch a cold after pursuing that ridiculous idea, but she didn´t really care, anyway.

Surprised by the change of subject, he raised his brows at her before mirroring her smile, nodding sheepishly. "If you don´t mind the cold, then let´s practice shooting some arrows", she suggested.

Clutching the front of her cloak tighter to her collarbone, she attempted to hold off the cold from her bare skin. "Sure", he replied with a nod before following her to the training grounds.

Despite the weather, dozens of men were practicing their sword fighting with one another, the sound of metal clashing against itself filled their ears as they arrived. Adalgund couldn´t help but stare in awe, for it was the first time he had seen a remotely large training ground as the one of the Danish court. It shouldn´t surprise him much, since it was property of the crown, but the boy couldn´t help but get excited at the mere sight of it.

Eira didn´t wait for him as she walked towards the equipment, reaching for two sets of bows and arrows. Part of her wanted to practice with her beloved bow, gifted by her late father, but she didn´t want to put in the effort to grab it along with the arrows from her chambers. Her gaze locked on the roughly carved wood from the weapon, sighing as she lifted it, attempting to grow comfortable with the weight of it.

"This shall do for now", she muttered to herself as she hung the bow over her shoulder, grabbing the rest of the items in her hands before trudging to Adalgund. Offering the bow and the set of arrows to him, she felt the cold seep at her palm, already drying out the skin in the process, despite having applied lotion in the morning.

He thanked her softly, taking the items from her hands before following her through the woods. "Why are we out here?", he questioned after a while of passing several bushes and trees. It was quite loud due to the rustling of leaves even though the pair itself didn´t speak much. Eira glanced at him for a short moment before she continued to stride through the grass.

"I always practice here. Less people, less distraction" She shrugged before halting when they reached a small clearing in the woods, where several targets were hidden in the trees and bushes.

Adalgund tilted his head to observe the targets from a different angle, noticing the small patches and holes in the middle. "I take it you´re good at archery?" with the raise of a brow she turned to him, before following his gaze. Eira concealed a smirk at his baffled expression, watching as he stared incredulously at the bullseyes.

"Well, I´m not a professional hunter or such..." A smile that could only be described as bashful was etched on her face as she replied. "It is the very first time I´ve ever heard of a princess skilled at such a thing", he claimed with a thoughtful expression. Eira felt the urge to roll her eyes at his words, groaning internally at the thought.

Of course, it is unheard of for a princess to participate in ´manly´ activities. It would have been more acceptable for her to spend her free time with embroidery or singing, not that she was skilled at those things. She was great at drawing and was greatly interested in art itself, but she had no taste for stitching stupid patterns into a plain cloth while poking her skin each time, drawing blood which ends up staining the fabric.

What good comes to engaging in activities she was not good at? If she didn´t even have any fun while stitching even the most simple pattern of the sun, then where was the meaning of it?

"I´m not very good at things like embroidery, so I use my talents elsewhere", she replied seriously. The grin on her face had vanished and was now exchanged with a blank expression. Adalgund stared at her while scratching the back of his neck, pondering over his next words. "I also am not very good with the sword." Eira´s eyes slightly widened at the confession, watching him with raised eyebrows.

"I do wish to be better at it and I used to train a lot…", he added with a solemn expression. The corners of his mouth were turned downward into a frown and he kept his gaze on his shoes, ramming them into the dirt as a distraction.

"Then why did you stop if you enjoyed it so much?" he felt his breath stagger at her question, his nostril flaring at the old memory that flashed before his mind. Eira kept her gaze on him while taking hold of an arrow, letting out a deep breath before launching the head towards the bullseye. It was refreshing to finally shoot arrows into objects, feeling the swoosh of air whiplash her as she let go of the shaft.

Dodging her question, he turned to admire her skill while asking something himself. "Have you…" he furrowed his brows as he rethought what to say before finally adding, "Ever… hurt someone?"

Eira hesitated, ranking her fingertips over the feathers as he awaited her answer. Immediately a memory clouded her mind, a memory which was still very fresh. She hadn´t thought of it for a while, having deliberately stored it in the depths of her consciousness. She bit her lip at the thought, replaying the event as if it had happened yesterday.

A few months ago Eira happened to stumble across a balcony, her body still sweaty and exhausted from training. Her breath was shaky and her fingers were trembling as she continued to walk, halting only in front of the balcony for a short moment to catch her breath. She had clearly overdone her training sessions that day, stubbornly keeping her feet planted on the grass of the forest as she continued to shoot arrows until late in the afternoon, missing lunch.

Her gaze stared ahead to watch the sunset, her eyes glued to the different colours depicted in the sky. Letting out a sigh, her shoulders slumped together and she admired the silence for a short moment, before being pulled out of a trance-like state. A gurgle-like sound erupted from somewhere before she could hear a female voice wailing and crying. Eira´s gaze immediately shifted to the source of the weird noises, drifting to the wall of the castle next to a rustling bush.

Eira didn´t immediately realize what was happening and had to squint her eyes a bit when she saw two silhouettes inside the bush. The crying sounds were likely coming from the smaller figure, which was kept in a tight grip by the taller person. The sound of shuffling clothes caught Eira´s attention, and she noticed how the clothes of that person were ripped off.

Her breath was caught in her throat as she realized what was most likely happening. A servant girl was molested by some drunk scoundrel, who was mere seconds away from plunging his cock inside her and taking her by force. Eira´s brows furrowed and a gasp escaped her lips as she stood still, almost rigid in her stance. The boiling sensation of anger was seeping into her chest, making her act irrationally.

A mere glance at her bow made her halt in her step before she took it in her hands and observed the arrows she had kept. Her eyes widened dramatically as she threw the arrows a glance, sighing when she noticed one of them had white feathers, instead of red ones.

Eira couldn´t be more glad when she realized that it was not one of the arrows her father had gifted her, but one from the training grounds. A servant must have picked it up by accident, giving it to her, along with the other arrows she had practiced with beforehand.

With trembling hands she reached for the white arrow, not wasting any time to get into stance while connecting it with the string. Letting out a shaky breath, she tried to concentrate on the head of the man, wincing at the thought of accidentally missing the shot and shooting the girl instead. Both of them were moving a lot and along with the darkness that crept towards the bush, it was hard to hit the bullseye.

A rush of adrenaline overwhelmed her. Her heart began to race, pounding almost outside of her chest and her breathing became more shallow.

She froze in place, hesitating to shoot. If she did, she would have murdered a person- regardless of how wicked that human might have been. Eira wasn´t one to shy away from death, being exposed to it from a young age already. Executions of criminals and other ones were not uncommon and they took place in public. Anyone was able to watch them, along with children. Eira was one of those children, watching the life drain from the executed, their eyes losing that certain glint and their bodies becoming limp.

It was a common sight for her and her father had taught her from a young age that sacrifices must be made and some must repent for their sins by the death penalty.

A very by-the-book Christian thing to say.

Eira would nod along and watch the executions with a blank expression, while her friend Estrid- besides being her senior- would rather stay inside the castle and never hear a word about the loss of someone´s life. She´d even flinch when someone would speak of such a thing, which Eira would use to tease her relentlessly.

Therefore Eira believed she was toughened up regarding death, and would feel no compassion when attending those executions at her father´s side. But now, when being forced to be the one to take a life, she froze.

She felt uncomfortable at the thought of being a murderer since it was one of her greatest sins. Although she did now believe in the catholic church, she still felt guilt when thinking of the consequences and couldn´t help but think about what her father might think of her after finding out she was a murderer.

But on the other hand, that man must also repent for his sin. And this time, Eira shall be the judge of him, deciding his fate. Squinting her left eye shut, she pulled the shaft toward her chest, exhaling deeply before finally letting go of the arrow.

As quickly as she shot, the arrow was launched into the air and pierced right through the man´s skull. Bullseye Eira bit down on her lip harshly, drawing blood in the process as she watched the arrow shoot at the perfect angle, along with just enough force to pierce that man´s head, to which he immediately fell limp. The girl loosened herself from his grip, letting out an ear-piercing scream as she watched the blood dripping down his face.

The scream made Eira aware of what kind of situation she was currently in. Part of her wanted to run toward her, embrace her in a hug, and comfort her in that horrible moment. But Eira knew she couldn´t since she would most likely be rightfully accused of his murder.

Quickly, she composed herself and hurried toward her chambers, quietly shutting the door after entering, so she wouldn´t draw any unnecessary attention.

Eira ended up comforting herself to sleep by reassuring herself that he deserved it. He must have had to repent for his sins. She whispered to herself over and over again, her eyes staying wide open as she lay alone on the bed, too shocked to do anything else.

She ended up not eating dinner and acted like it had never happened in the first place.

"I did", she replied in a monotone-like state as she stared at the bow, grazing the carved wood with her nails in order to comfort herself in some way.

Adalgund noticed her absent demeanor, pursing his lips as he cleared his throat. "And you still practice?" his rhetorical question was somewhat hopeful, desperate even. He sat down next to the grass, tugging at the small strands that began to stain his pants with green splotches.

"Did the guilt stop you from using a sword?" Eira continued to shoot at the targets while holding the conversation with him. Adalgund watched with clenched teeth, repeatedly ripping out the grass from the dirt. "Sort of." Eira sighed at his reply, throwing an unimpressed glance in his direction.

He truly did remind her of Estrid…

The conversation had turned too somber for her liking. Therefore she decided to turn around, extending her hand to him. The temperature didn´t rise at all and her hands slowly began to get numb. Eira couldn´t help but hope that the weather would soon change so that she could mindlessly stay outside the entire day without freezing to death.

„Come, you haven´t practiced at all" Her tone switched to a more soft one when speaking to him. Eira didn´t know why, but she felt the need to be nice to him and wished to become friends with Adalgund.

His presence alone made her feel more at ease and he was one of the few young people at court.

Adalgund yelped when she dragged him up with force, taken off guard by her strength. Nonetheless, he chuckled when rising to his feet, patting down the creases of his pants. "It´s cold", he complained. His wining resembled that of a child, to which Eira smirked at him. "If you hit bullseye, then we´ll go back inside" Adalgund shot her a glare and frowned. "We´ll freeze to death then."

Ignoring his complaints, she instead draped the bow over her shoulder, recollecting the arrows she had shot while Adalgund miserably attempted to hit several bullseyes. "With that stance, you won´t ever hit your target", she remarked half-heartedly while pulling the tip of an arrow from the tight fabric.

"Then help me, Your Highness", he pleaded desperately, growing frustrated at the nagging cold. Feigning annoyance, Eira groaned in order to hide her amusement while joining his side, squeezing his shoulders. "Relax your shoulders and control your breathing before shooting" Adalgund followed her instructions, growing more confident as he pulled the arrow toward his chest.

„Shoot", she demanded while observing him intently. He did as told and let go of the shaft. Both of them watched the arrow flying through the air, launching into the fabric. Letting out a gasp of joy, he grinned while admiring the target. On the first try, he was able to hit the second inner circle, despite believing he wouldn´t even hit the target itself at all. "You´re an alright shot" Eira huffed while raising her brows, jokingly downplaying his achievement.

He narrowed his eyes at her, pursing his lips before correcting her. "I´m an excellent shot" he couldn´t contain the laughter that followed him afterward, to which Eira soon joined in.

It was unbelievable how carefree she felt beside him. None of the negative thoughts that kept nagging her mind, making her refrain from sleeping even glimpsed through her mind when she was near Adalgund. Eira didn´t feel the need to force out a laugh, feeling somewhat joyous when speaking with him. Now that Wulf had departed for Ketil´s farm, she firmly believed she would be miserable for the time being.

Excitedly, the boy pulled out another arrow, connecting it with the string and concentrating on his posture before letting go. It hadn´t hit the center just yet, but he was working up to it, and Eira watched his determined expression with a soft smile.

It felt awesome to be able to teach him her favorite activity and see his progress, thanks to her instructions. She was clearly a great instructor, she thought with a satisfied smile. It didn´t take too long until he finally hit the bullseye once.

When he did, his eyes lit up like the ones of a young boy and both reached out to high-five each other. "You´ve made it", she exclaimed proudly to which he bashfully scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks flaring up at the praise. "Only with your help", he replied sheepishly while he distracted himself by collecting the rest of the arrows before looping the bow around his back.

„As a reward, we’ll soon dine" She patted his back while taking the lead, walking toward the training grounds with a shivering Adalgund hot on her trail. When they stumbled upon a servant, they took off their bows before giving him the rest of the training gear to stash somewhere. "You may lead Ser Adalgund to his new chambers before you fetch him for lunch", she told the boy before glancing toward Adalgund.

The servant quickly bowed before taking the weapons from their grasp. "I shall see you soon" she waved at him before walking back inside the castle.

Her feet were moving quickly to finally escape the harsh cold. Instead of visiting her chambers, she quickly ran toward the library, sitting down on the comforter in front of the fireplace.

A moan escaped her lips as she shut her eyes, feeling how the warmth seeped into her skin and comforted her numb hands. Her ears had already been burning from the cold, which she noticed just now as the numbness disappeared from her body.

Nevertheless, she threw her head back while relinquishing in the warmth of the flames. When she glimpsed down to the soft fabric of the comforter, lewd images began to cloud her mind as she thought of the small moments she and Wulf had shared. All of them happened in this library, on this comforter.

His hands raked up her body, cupping her clothed bosom while whispering sweet nothings into her ear, leaving her panting. She was sure her cheeks were still red, but not due to the cold this time. Eira missed his touch. She missed how his rough lips sought hers, how he embraced her with his strong arms. She truly was a sucker for his muscles, she´s got to admit that.

Biting her lip at the thought of him, she breathed through her nose while continuing to gaze ahead at the bursting flames. Mindlessly, she ranked her fingers along the comforter beneath her, silently fiddling with the strings of loose fabric.

When she felt herself warm up enough to be able to feel comfortable in her skin again, she slowly stood up from her previous spot, wiggling her feet before walking outside the hall again.

"Where the hell is Estrid?"

Chapter Text

Sailing through the sea was just as boring as Canute had anticipated. There wasn´t anything remotely interesting that happened during the short time he spent on the small ship.

The only thing that he saw was the sea. The only sound he heard, besides the loud voices of the Jomsviking, was the repeating notion of waves breaking. The only thing he smelled was the salty, algae scent of the sea.

Canute almost felt like going insane. It didn´t help that the frequent visits of his late father had accumulated drastically, plaguing his mind like crazy. Especially since he had to forcefully block him out of his thoughts, acting as if he hadn´t seen his father in the first place, after all, Canute would be seen as a mad king if he spoke out of the blue, acting as if he held a conversation with someone who wasn´t there in the first place.

And it wasn´t like he could distract himself from those visions; he was glued to one spot with no chance of escaping. So he waited and waited, breathing the salty air in through his nose while listening to the loud waves of the sea, abiding on the ship.

It wasn´t very easy to endure a certain period in one small place with men who were more like beasts than humans. Despite having the honor to call themselves Jomsvikings, they were brute and utterly disgusting.

Canute couldn´t help but remember the time he had spent with Askeladd´s troupe, noticing the similarities between the men he had to spend time with. The time when he was forced to be guarded 24/7 by the boy who always had a scowl on his face and kept pestering him with snarky remarks or resorting to calling him a princess in a taunting manner.

Canute couldn´t exactly imagine a grumpy boy like him living as a slave, especially not when he refused to even do the simplest task without a complaint or groan in return.

It was a fleeting thought, one that quickly escaped his mind before he pondered over more important matters. Matters such as the short interaction he had witnessed before his departure. Seeing the familiar way his niece and most trusted advisor had interacted with each other, down to the display of her even giving that man a small tissue as a farewell gift, resulted in his annoyance.

An indecent relationship such as this, would likely complicate things to go through with his plan, hence why it was a clear obstacle; something that must be resolved.

At least, Canute had some time to ponder over the whole ordeal entirely, considering several ways to get rid of that obstacle. One did seem like the most profitable and smartest and Canute would soon tell Wulf about his plan, on the way to return to the castle.

That would soon come to happen, but first, Canute must handle the matters regarding Ketil´s farm, something he quickly wished to be done with.

A sense of glee filled him when Canute finally got a glimpse of the land, meaning that they would soon arrive at the infamous residence. He had almost believed he would go mad soon, only being exposed to the wide depths of the sea. That miserable feeling had quickly vanished when they arrived at land and the overwhelming scent of the salty sea soon mixed itself with other ones, coming from the wet grass and plants.

Canute let out a deep breath when finally he was able to disembark the ship and waded through the water. His clothes got wet and his pace was slowed, but the feeling was somewhat refreshing, as if it had awakened him from a deep slumber.

Dozens of Jomsviking made noises of happiness as they infiltrated the property of Ketil, wading through the water with determined and bloodthirsty expressions as they clenched the steel they carried.

The sound of their heavy armor clattering against itself made Floki draw a sharp breath, watching with an expression that could only be described as smug. "Spread out and gain control over the area", he commanded with a fierce voice. By butting emphasis on his words, he reached out with his arm, guiding in the direction his men were running toward.

"Make way for His Majesty The King!" his rough voice caught the attention of several Jomsviking, who went out of their way to give the highly respected man more space to walk through. Canute's hands were balled into fists, clenching by his side as he sauntered over to the assembled troops.

Standing in the middle of the crowd, Canute breathed through his nose while taking in the scenery before him. His narrowed eyes scanned the high amount of arrows that were sticking inside the sand and mud, showing clear signs of hostility from Ketil´s side.

The footprints were also a dead giveaway; Ketil wouldn´t back down without a fight.

"What a shame. It seems as though Ketil has decided to fight me", he spoke out loud with a bored tone along with a blank expression. "Dispatch an envoy, Wulf", he ordered the man behind him without sparing him a glance, but instead keeping his eyes on the wide field across the land.

"We will line up here and wait for Ketil´s response." His stern eyes never strayed from the nature of the farm, admiring the few trees and flowers planted in the ground. "Yes, Your Majesty", Wulf replied without hesitating, quickly turning around to fulfill his task.

"This land is beautiful. It´s a waste to stain it with blood."

---------

"Where were you?", Eira hissed while squinting her eyebrows at Estrid. After she had exited the library, she quickly began to search for her friend by entering several chambers, along with her own. It had been a drag to search for her friend and she had almost given up and would have instead just Finally, she had ultimately found the short blonde inside a small hall, quietly humming to herself as she stitched a floral pattern into a handkerchief.

It was quite impressive, to be honest, but Eira didn´t concentrate on that fact and instead decided to question Estrid on her whereabouts.

Upon hearing the feminine voice, along with the specific rhythm of footsteps she knew all too well, a smile formed on Estrid´s soft lips. She turned around and grinned at the grumpy girl, suppressing the urge to wave at her since she was occupied with handy work. So instead, she settled on a small, "Hi."

Almost immediately Eira´s features softened, biting on her lower lip and forcing a frown on her face. She walked forward to sit down next to her, settling onto the soft comforter. When Eira still had that accusingly glint in her eyes, Estrid sighed while putting her work aside and focusing instead on her friend.

"I was tired from yesterday so I slept in a little longer and missed my embroidery lesson. Hence why I´m still working on this" She pointed toward the small handkerchief and gave her friend an apologetic smile.

Eira´s brows raised in return, stiffing a small chuckle as she listened to her. Yesterday evening, the two quietly sneaked into the library and played a game where they had to converse only by referencing random book titles they found on bookshelves, using them as a sort of communicator. It was pretty hilarious, which is why they stayed up much later than usual.

It wasn´t much of a problem for Eira, since she always stayed up late to read books in her bed or beside the window sill, but the same could not be said for Estrid. Normally, the princess was an early bird and naturally retreated to her chambers very early, since she cherished a good night´s rest. It was surprising that Estrid even agreed to do that silly idea with Eira when she had knocked on her door, disturbing the princess who had only worn a nightgown by then.

"That woman won´t reprimand you for missing one assignment, you know?" Eira rolled her eyes and scoffed jokingly while crossing her arms before of her chest. "Not when you´re her little angel who does no wrong", she added with raised brows, as if daring her to deny it.

It was no secret that Estrid wasn´t someone to defy easily. She was a quiet and pliant princess, no doubt. Of course, every mentor and instructor favored her when does every task demand of her without complaining. It was a stark contrast to Eira, who was known for never showing up for her embroidery lessons. That instructor can´t even remember the last time she had seen the princess in that room and she would be surprised if Eira would randomly show up again since she´d anticipate her absence.

"I know, but it feels wrong not to do", the blonde replied sheepishly, giving her the same look Adalgund had thrown her before that. Thinking of Adalgund…

"You left me alone to deal with our new guest," she claimed with furrowed brows as if she had truly been upset with her, which she only did to tease her dear friend. "Ah, I´m sorry. I didn´t know they´d arrive so soon. I was only told by Gunnar that they would arrive within the next two days," The corners of her mouth twitched downward, giving her a compassionate look.

Of course, Estrid was aware of how much Eira truly despised to greet new guests and would much often rather keep to herself. Not only that, but she did look forward to meeting new people to make them feel more welcome at the castle. Come to think of it, Estrid almost cringed at the thought of an awkward interaction between the grumpy Eira and a new person who didn´t know her at all and would think of her as rude.

"How did it go?", Estrid asked sincerely with the curiousness practically written all over her face. Eira shrugged in reply, staring off to the ground as she pondered the question. "His name is Ser Adalgund Andersen. He´s nice, I suppose." Shooting her an intense glance, Eira added, "He´s awfully similar to you and very young also."

Estrid´s eyes slightly widened upon hearing those words. "Young, eh?" her grin widened as she watched her friend. Due to being oblivious to the bond that had formed between Eira and Wulf, an idea had crept up her mind while rethinking what she had said. Of course, Estrid knew what sort of feelings her friend harbored for the captain. But he was a captain, after all, and not a very young one at that.

Since Estrid had a crush on him for god knows how long, one would think it was simply a childish infatuation she had, nothing more. Therefore, Estrid couldn´t help but think of a possible betrothal of her friend.

Upon seeing the creepy grin on her face, Eira quickly whipped her head towards her and shook it violently. "Don´t get the wrong ideas!" All she did was chuckle in return, amused by her demeanor. "Besides, you´re already too much to bear. Why would I want two of you?" Estrid continued to giggle and embraced her in a tight hug to annoy her further.

Eira had only grumbled in reply, rolling her eyes as she felt her friend´s arm embrace her but also let out a sigh of relief. Secretly, she had enjoyed the hug and the caring touch of her friend truly brought comfort to her. But if she´d ever voice that thought out loud, she´d never hear the end of it and would be forced to give into hourly embraces, when already daily ones had been too much to her liking.

"Food should be served by now. We´ll dine with him, so we shouldn´t come late." Estrid nodded quickly and let go of her before standing back up on her own two feet. A small sense of victory cursed through Eira´s veins when she realized her plan to escape her bone-crushing hug had worked. When Estrid embraced someone, it felt entirely different than when others did.

It might have been because of her tight grip, which was less likely, or because Eira had felt vulnerable at that moment, which was a feeling she didn´t quite welcome. She didn´t know which one it was but told herself it must have been due to the physical aspect, which would have been highly unlikely since Estrid wasn´t quite the strongest.

"Then come, let us go" Estrid´s soft voice ripped the girl from her thoughts, pulling her back into the current reality. Her friend was waiting for her with an extracted hand, which she quickly took and helped herself up from her seat.

"Do you at least feel rested enough?" Eira had asked while her friend had intertwined their arms together. "I do," Estrid said with a cheeky smile as they simultaneously fell into step.

Their walk ended swiftly when they arrived in front of the dining chambers. Only a set of doors separated them from the delicious scent of freshly prepared food. The guards acknowledged the duo with a curt bow before opening the doors for them.

The sight was a familiar. The same table had been decorated with rich silverware and exotic fruits. An aromatic note had filled their nostrils, increasing their appetite, and drool practically flowed from their lips.

"God, I´m so hungry," Estrid whined as the two sat down next to each other. A servant quickly filled their goblets with wine, which Eira had quickly downed in order to wet her lips which had dried out from the cold.

Licking her lips, she turned to her blond friend while waiting for the servant to refill her goblet. "You needn´t wait any longer, I´m sure he´ll arrive soon."

"Hopefully," Estrid frowned while absentmindedly tapping her fingers against the table´s surface, which emitted a rhythm that had filled the silence.

Sooner than later, the person they were waiting for had finally arrived. Adalgund had flushed cheeks and was scratching his nape sheepishly, his head slightly bowed as he entered the hall.

"I apologize for arriving late. I lost track of time when unpacking my luggage", he elaborated while taking a seat at the table, opposing the two princesses. "Didn´t the servants unpack it for you?" Eira raised a brow at his explanation.

"Uh- yes... well, I-I wanted to unpack it myself instead" he stumbled over his words before quickly gulping down the red liquor in front of him to distract himself from the rising anxiety he felt.

When the servants finally placed several dishes in front of their watering mouths, the three nobles were quick to indulge in the food.

While cleaning her lips with a napkin, Estrid sent the boy a soft smile before neatly folding it next to her plate. Eira didn´t exactly throw hers onto the table, but she did rather from the used napkin into a knitted ball and put it on the dirty surface of her plate, which dirtied it even more.

Well, not like she was going to use it again…

"You must be the princess Estrid, the king´s sister" Adalgund´s eyes widened slightly when realizing, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards. "Forgive me for my rudeness, my name is Adalgund", he apologized while his eyes darted toward his own plate.

"It is quite alright" She offered him another charming smile while swatting her hand dismissively. Eira had in the meantime quickly opened the napkin before folding it in a similar way to Estrid and putting it aside her plate. She bit her lip anxiously while rolling her eyes, being annoyed at her lack of etiquette.

"Sadly I wasn´t able to greet you formally, but at least we can dine together" Adalgund mirrored her expression, a grin now gracing his lips as he felt his anxiety slip away. "Is everything to your liking?", she questioned while glancing at his almost empty plate.

"Uh- yes, the food is very luscious," he complimented. Eira munched on her food in the meantime, sighing softly as she listened to their conversation. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards into the hint of a smile.

Gratefully, Estrid was fond of small talk and was able to do it for the both of them, so that Eira herself could stay quiet for once and instead listen to others. It´s what she preferred anyway, to listen to one instead of talking to one.

"I´m glad" she resumed nibbing at a piece of cake with a happy expression.

How she loved sweets and baked goods. The scent alone was mouth-watering to her.

"Eira had shown me the royal gardens today, it is gorgeous" the blonde girl beamed at his words, images of the beautiful flowers popping up into her mind again. "It is indeed. And now that spring has slowly arrived, many flowers have already blossomed, despite the lingering cold of the winter."

Adalgund nodded quietly as he listened to her words as recalled the colorful petals of the many flowers he had seen. It was truly a sight to behold.

"Tomorrow morning, the three of us could visit the gardens together after breakfast," she offered before shoving the last piece of cake inside her mouth and cleaning the excessive crumbs away.

"A splendid idea", Adalgund agreed while glancing at Eira, who nodded with a smile of her own. "Then it´s settled."

--------

Gray clouds were the only sight in the sky, with no hint of blue appearing between the clouds. It was a depressing sight, fitting the nature of what was currently happening on land.

Men were fighting until their very last breath, striking their enemies down or dying while trying to do so. Canute was clearly at an advantage, not only regarding the numbers of his troops but because he had experienced men fighting for him. Jomsvikings were fighting for his cause, the strongest and most skilled of all Vikings, compared to the little army of farmers Ketil had assembled.

One couldn´t call this a fight. Ketil had no chance of winning this, all odds were against him.

Along with a few other guards, Canute was sternly observing the battlefield with Wulf at his side. He was now wearing armor, even though he wasn´t planning on joining the battle any time soon.

Canute had quirked an eyebrow when Wulf grunted, turning to him. "Wulf, what is it?"

"Your Majesty, the man who appeared to be Iron Fist Ketil was just struck down by a subordinate of mine." Canute narrowed his eyes at the man´s words. "That was a poor decision. Did I not order them to capture him?"

Bowing, Wulf furrowed his brows before apologizing, "Yes, I am sorry for my men´s ignorance. I will go confirm it´s Ketil" he raised his head again to watch the scene in front of him.

"The Jomsvikings are killing those who are retreating, which is also against my orders" Canute´s voice lacked the anger that would have normally been associated with his words. Instead, his tone was void of any sentiment and his glare was seemingly cold.

"Tell Floki he must not pursue them" Wulf complied with his order, nodding before he ultimately walked forward.

Unbeknownst to Canute, Thorgil had reached land with drenched hair and trousers, sauntering over to a tiny cliff before he peeked over, resulting in him seeing His Majesty calmly observing the battle. Realizing his chance, Thorgil wasted no time in rushing forward toward the English king.

"We must treat the deceased with respect. Later, we´ll give them to their family", Canute told the guard beside him before widening his eyes. Hearing fast footsteps nearing him, he quickly turned around and met the eyes of Thorgil who wickedly grinned at him, a sword in his hand as he sprang forward to strike.

"King Canute, I´ll have you now. Your head is mine!", he boasted before striking down. Canute was frozen in his spot, shocked at the sudden attack before he quickly collected himself and unsheathed his sword, parring his attack.

The side of his steel was broken in the process, damaged by the brute force. Due to the same reason, Canute had been pushed to the ground. A surprised expression was seen on Thorgil´s face, not expecting the king to react so quickly to his sneak attack.

"Thorgil! How did you get through?!", one of the guards exclaimed as two rushed forward to stand in between them, although they were swiftly beheaded by the said maniac.

Canute was barely able to catch his breath when Thorgil had focused his gaze on him again. Quickly, he stood up and raised his sword in defense with a grunt, although the steel was broken due to the former counter and therefore useless.

"I was not expecting that" A smirk graced his lips as he stood in front of the king, staring him down. "I didn´t think you were capable of blocking my sword. Your skills have improved, Your Majesty."

Canute couldn´t quite concentrate on the man´s words. His right hand was limp and shaking as he gripped the handle of his sword, his eyes twitching with stress. Did it sprain from the attack just now?

"That´s the spirit!", the man yelled out before rushing in for another attack. "This makes it worthy of taking your head now!" he laughed maniacally before striking with his sword. Luckily, Canute was able to block it with his broken sword, though it was thrown out of his hand afterward which ended up making him vulnerable.

Pondering over a new plan, Canute´s breath quickened as he felt the pain of his injury worsens. His gaze fell onto the red cloak he wore; a sign of royalty.

Furrowing his brows, he swiftly unclapsed it before throwing it onto Thorgil´s face, who was currently gazing at the sword that laid in the grass. This way, he could use the short amount of time he had by running away from him, whimpering as he ran with all his might to reach for one of the corpse´s sword.

Thorgil, who wasn´t exactly fond of that stupid trick, narrowed his eyes after he ripped the cloak from his face and quickly ran after him. Before Canute could reach the blade, the former thegn kneed him in his stomach, throwing him to the side.

Canute groaned at the contact, landing harshly onto the wet grass. With each breath he tried to take, he felt an even sharper pain that pierced through his chest. Canute felt scared in that moment, scared that he would die right now for nothing at all.

To die before he could even change the world for the better was something horrible he never wished to think about.

Laying on the ground, he kept whimpering due to the pain cursing through his body. Thorgil kept his bare foot on the side of Canute´s helmet to keep him in place. "I´d love to play with you but I´m sorry. I don´t have much time" The grin never vanished from his face as he taunted the king.

"Let´s start over. I´ve come to take your head!" Reaching forward, Thorgil prepared himself to strike, before a blade pierced through his dominant arm, which was holding his sword.

Groaning in pain, he let go of his weapon to hold his injured arm before a furious Wulf slammed into him, sending the both of them to the ground. Quickly, he reached forward to engulf the maniac in a chokehold, increasing the pressure to a deathly one.

"You bastard! How dare you treat His Majesty that way!", he spat with a venomous tone as he squeezed around the brute´s neck. Struggling beneath him, Thorgil reached forward with his free hand to stab his eye with his fingers.

Blood was flowing out of the fresh wound and it was already clear that the eye would be lost since it was a crucial wound. Wulf had yelled out in pain but his grip never loosened. He was adamant about killing him. The man who betrayed him and ambushed the king himself should die on this very battlefield by his hand.

Thorgil pierced his eye socket much harder than before, circling it around which resulted in Wulf finally loosening his grip and falling to the side in agony.

That didn´t mean he had any time to catch his breath, though. Canute took one of his former guard´s sword in the meantime and reached forward to ramm the steel into his chest. Thorgil had only missed the attack by a hair, quickly rolling to the side before jumping up into stance.

It didn´t take long for Wulf to collect himself. The pain was still unbearable, but he must protect the king by all means. Standing up as well, he groaned and glared at the attacker with his remaining eye. "Your Majesty, please hand the sword to me and stay back!"

"Piece of shit" Thorgil moaned in pain as he finally pulled out the sword from his arm, which was completely soaked with his own blood. Glancing around, he quickly noticed that several knights were on their way to defend the king, each one of them wore clothes dirtied by the blood of their enemies.

"Fuck!", he yelled out as he noticed he had no chance of winning before running in the opposite direction, heading to the sea once again. "Stop, Thorgil!", Wulf screamed furiously as he watched the coward escape. Canute stood beside him, watching the retreating figure with a blank expression.

"Do not pursue him, Wulf. Your wounds are too severe." His gaze was still focused on Thorgil, narrowing his eyes as he felt the pulsing sensation of pain clouding his mind.

"I let my guard down but what worries me is that he´s a very daring man." The said man was frantically swimming his way through the cold water, determined to escape the king´s sight. "I want him as my subordinate again"

------------

Sleeping in was not a very smart thing to do. Eira wasn´t even aware of why exactly she had been so tired that morning. She made sure to go to bed early, different from the night before, when she had stayed awake inside the library, laughing with her until well past midnight. Even though she did retreat to her chambers that late, she had no problems waking up early and stayed energetic until the evening.

It might have been due to the change in physical activity. It had been well over two weeks since the last time she had practiced archery or been outside that long overall. It may have been the reason as to why she had been this tired; she overworked her body.

Of course, it was frustrating to think of that. Eira loved nothing more than to launch her arrow at targets and to think that she could tire this soon from her favourite activity clearly irked her.

Nevertheless, the princess kept her head buried in her pillows until the servants knocked again an hour and a half later. She groaned into the soft fabric as her eyes fluttered open, meeting the sketch that was plastered on her wall. The once red color had changed into a rusty brown one.

"You may enter," she called out with an annoyed tone as her gaze was kept on to the sketch. Two women had entered with plates in their grasps. "Your Highness," they bowed before placing them on the small desk, where sketch paper was scattered around.

"I fear it might be a bit late to eat breakfast with Princess Estrid and Ser Adalgund, but we´ve brought you food so you won´t go to your history lessons on an empty stomach", the elderly woman softly spoke.

If it had been any other time of the day, Eira would have replied politely with a trained smile etched across her face, but in the morning she had never been one to be cheerful.

Instead of replying, Eira rubbed her eyes and yawned, not caring to cover her mouth while doing so. Her body felt tense and she felt her muscles ache from the little training she participated in.

This morning she took longer than usual to get ready and therefore ended up arriving almost too late to her class. She knew how insufferable her mentor was and did not want to be reprimanded by him at all. Hence why she was speed-walking or rather, almost sprinting to arrive on time.

Thankfully, Eira always made sure to do all the assigned work right away in order to stay on the teacher´s good side. And she did find the class interesting, which is why it wasn´t quite a drag to work on the tasks and was instead quite fun to her.

After class had ended, Eira made sure to visit the library and search for the books she was told to read in the meantime. It didn´t take that long and she was soon able to cross off all of the books she was supposed to borrow.

Ordering a servant to bring the pile of books to her chambers, the princess then walked towards the gardens, where Estrid was probably spending her time.

Eira wanted to apologize for missing the stroll Estrid had planned for the three of them to participate in. She knew how much she was looking forward to it, for she always took up the opportunity to make new friends.

Come to think of it, Eira had noticed how well they´d gotten along. It wasn´t surprising, since Adalgund was very similar to her in some ways. It did gladden her heart since Eira thought of him as trustworthy in comparison to the ladies at court. Therefore she was happy that she had made a new friend and was quite surprised at herself that she would consider Adalgund as such.

Glancing around the halls as she walked, Eira noticed many servants hurriedly and frantically moving to each hall, holding different items of decoration in their hands. Narrowing her eyes in confusion, her gaze landed on the egg-headed man she dreaded.

Even though she despised to talk to him, Eira was still curious enough to talk to him. Approaching the man stood in the hall, speaking to one of the servants, Eira greeted him. "Gunnar, what´s all this fuss about?"

He pinched the side of his mustache after he reluctantly bowed to her. "Princess, the servants are currently preparing for King Canute´s coronation."

The corners of her mouth slightly twitched into a frown as she listened to him. "When will it be held?"

"As soon as His Majesty arrives, Your Highness," he elaborated in a squeaky voice that irked her way too much. That meant that the coronation would likely take place at the end of the week since her uncle would probably arrive in the next few days.

Dread filled her at that moment, realizing it wouldn´t take any longer now until her uncle would finally be crowned as king and Eira would officially be cast aside.

Nodding, she bit her lip before replying, "I see, farewell then, Gunnar."

Stepping outside, the cold quickly began to chip at her skin, although she took notice of how much harsher the weather was yesterday. Slowly, but surely, the temperature was turning warmer which definitely excited her.

Immediately, she found the pair sitting underneath the tree Estrid and she were always hanging out under in the summer. With a small smile, she walked towards them and waved at them. Her mood swiftly changed as she saw the two.

Adalgund, who had turned around to face her, quickly noticed and waved back. The two of them seemed to be laughing, engrossed in a humorous conversation. Estrid saw his interaction and followed his gaze, her face lighting up with joy more than it had before.

"Eira!", she greeted with a wave and a big grin which showed her teeth. Eira halted and sat beside the pair, observing the two. Both of their faces were reddened, most likely due to the cold, which meant that they had been outside for a long time already.

"I´m sorry I didn´t accompany you two in the morning. I slept in", she admitted while biting her lip, her gaze darting off to the grass they were sitting on.

"No worries! Not when I did the same thing yesterday…," Estrid chuckled while reaching for her friend´s hand and squeezed it in a comforting manner. "Right, I suppose we are even now", Eira replied with a small smile.

Gazing towards them, Eira noticed the proximity the two sat at. A bit too close to be considered formal, especially between males and females. She couldn´t help but wonder if the two were fond of each other, which was surprising for the short time they had known each other. But she did notice the lingering glances between them or the way they had seemed so content while Eira had observed them from afar.

It was cute to see them get flustered during the conversation whenever their hands accidentally brushed against one another or how Adalgund had stared at her with puppy eyes.

It was the first time Eira had seen her friend show any hint of romantic feelings towards a man, and now she was enjoying the sight in front of her.

Pondering for quite a bit, Eira realized that if Adalgund was searching for a suitor, a princess to be exact, he could wed Estrid instead of herself.

Eira would make sure that it happened since she wished for nothing more than her best friend to be with a man who could make her happy, instead of being forced into a marriage with a man twice her age.

Chapter Text

Several hours had since passed after the attack on Canute. In that time many farmers have been killed and the so-called troops of Ketil had been diminished.

Clouds still covered the entire sky, coating it in an ugly grey. The sun had been blocked by them and therefore the temperature had been much lower than at court in Jelling hence why Canute had draped the red cloak over his shoulders, which he had discarded in the course of the battle.

After Thorgil had managed to escape, dozens of thegns, along with medical enforcers, had come to His Majesty´s rescue. Many contemplated chasing after the maniac, though Canute quickly advised them to drop that idea.

His arm was bandaged and much to his dismay, it did sprain. But he did consider himself lucky that it wasn´t at least broken or such, which definitely could have happened due to the attacker´s strength.

The pain was strong at first and he kept on clenching his hands into fists to somewhat manage that awful stinging sensation, but the injury slowly numbed after a while, which made it bearable.

Speaking of wounds, Wulf had been quickly treated due to the seriousness of his injury. The eye was lost for sure, and all that was left was his bloody eye socket, which was a gruesome sight for sure. Thank god a bandage was wrapped around his head to conceal the wound.

After most of the farmers had been slaughtered, Canute made sure their bodies would be brought forward, to send them off properly to their family.

Several bodies were sprawled across him, each laid in their bloodied and torn clothes as the glint of life had left their eyes. It was depressing. Canute knew that sacrifices must be made for his plan for a utopia, but the morals he still had made him almost hesitate before going through with such things.

The very least he could do was give the men who had fought for their lives a proper burial and send them off to their loved ones. This way he could make himself feel less guilty of his decisions.

Gazing quietly at the deformed corpses, Canute stood almost rigid-like. Beside him was Wulf, who observed his subordinate with his good eye. Two men were carrying a dead man by his feet and arms, placing him roughly on the ground. "Is that the last one of them?" Wulf asked with a voice that became hoarse after he had yelled so much.

"Yes, Sir!", one of the men replied while the other nodded. After hearing their confirmation, Wulf turned towards the corpses again. "Ketil can´t keep fighting us. Soon his options will run out" His arms were crossed behind his back as he spoke and his head was tilted downwards.

"I will send another messenger to urge them to surrender" Wulf turned around to Canute as he noticed Floki approaching, along with another Jomsviking.

His expression was stern as he neared the two, the wrinkles on his face were more evident than normal. "Your Majesty, may we seize the houses on the farm? My soldiers prefer to sleep in actual beds than in tents if they can help it."

It would be cruel of him to accept this request, would it not? Not only did Canute forcefully push Ketil into being a criminal, but he subjected his farm to inquisition as well. If he´d actually allow the Jomsvikings to pillage the entire farm, that would be uselessly cruel, would it not be?

Canute would at least have the decency to show Ketil mercy in that regard.

"No." Canute frowned at the man, glancing at him from the side as he answered his ridiculous request. "All troops are forbidden from entering the farm. The soldiers would pillage if they´re allowed to enter." Floki refrained from scoffing at him and furrowed his brows instead.

"Pillaging is rightfully entitled to the victorious," the older man recalled so that he´d finally accept his request instead of refusing it wrongfully.

"And our battle was to subjugate, not to pillage the entire farm." Canute didn´t turn around as he elaborated his reasoning and shut his eyes in annoyance. "Do not fret, Floki. I will happily pay you and the Jomsvikings a generous amount for this mission when it´s over."

The older man wasn´t quite satisfied with the outcome of this discussion and was irritated by being denied something he was entitled to. Nonetheless, that man was still a king and therefore he bit his tongue instead. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

After that, Floki quickly signaled his subordinate to follow as he turned from the king and began to walk in the opposite direction. He was still furious with the king, but he knew better than to make his feelings known to him.

Canute´s hands began to tremble underneath his cloak as he noticed another illusion clouding his mind. Pearls of sweat formed on his forehead and he felt a headache creeping up as the scenery before him changed.

The first thing he heard was his late father´s familiar laugh- the chuckling sounds he had known all too well whenever Sweyn taunted him. He didn´t see him immediately, but Canute could practically feel him behind his back.

Goosebumps covered his nape as he heard the voice again and he felt himself grow anxious. "So now you choose to show benevolence? You are getting wiser, Canute."

The image of the corpses scattered across from him burned into his mind, his gaze was reluctantly glued to the sight. "You are right to do so, as that comes with the job of a king" his words attempt to come off as comforting, to convince him not to feel guilty over his actions.

Was it truly just his conscious trying to persuade him to believe in himself? Was it just him, trying to convince himself that his actions were justified to be able to live with himself after doing such horrible things?

But he had to do those things, did he not? It was his duty as king to build a better future for his people, no matter how many sacrifices will be made in the process of achieving that.

"As for your grand scheme, you must choose who you spare and who you kill. That responsibility is yours." The head of his dead father kept flowing around in the air as he spoke. The vivid landscape had already vanished into a crimson red, almost as if he were in hell.

"It is much too heavy for the likes of a common mind. The world is engulfed in war, deception, and chaos of a fiery hellscape. Hell has it´s own ways." A pile of corpses had formed in front of him, his father at the very top of it. Was it a depiction of all the lives he took? All the people that died at his own hands?

"Oh, my son, Canute. You´ve killed your father, you´ve killed your brother and soon will kill the soul of your niece. So kill, kill them all until the path of corpses laid before you, leads to the paradise you seek" his voice became venomous before he erupted into a fit of laughter, flowing into nothingness as a path was created in front of him.

Luckily, the illusions quickly vanished after that, and Canute was able to recover from the disturbing encounter with his father. He didn´t know why exactly his mind had projected his insecure thoughts and inner fears into the illusion of his father, who tormented him with monologues on several occasions.

It always seemed like he was doubting himself in that regard. He knew what kind of goal he had and was sure he was walking down the right path to achieve it. However, his philosophical way of thinking separated him from others. "Sacrifices must be made," was a sentence he kept repeating inside his head.

Therefore, his own "father" had once called him a lonely shepherd, prone to having no companionship and walking his chosen path alone. Canute knew of this and was aware that no one else would ever understand his way of thinking. He had no problem with that. At least this way he could go through with his plan and achieve his goal in the end, even if he was alone.

He had accepted that already.

Canute then retreated to the tents, where he rested for a short while with Wulf by his side. While they relaxed, Canute pondered the idea he had during the travel, regarding the compromising nature of the supposed relationship between his trusted advisor and his niece.

His brows furrowed as he thought of the possible consequences, but there was no other possible way to follow through with his plan if he didn´t overcome the obstacle the two had been.

Therefore, Canute shot the guard who had been by their side a curt nod, "You are dismissed." Confused, but pliant nonetheless, he bowed quickly before turning around and walking away. Wulf raised a brow at that and turned to him. Sighing, he contemplated how to begin the conversation before his eyes ultimately hardened.

"Wulf, you are acquainted with my sister, Princess Estrid, not?" His gaze was kept on the bandage wrapped around his arm before finally meeting the man´s confused gaze. Wulf´s brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to reply but didn´t say a word.

"I know the princess, yes," he replied after hesitating for a moment. "I´m not sure where this is headed, Your Majesty." Canute had formed his lips into a thin line before the corners of his mouth twitched up, showing a hint of a slight smile.

"Estrid had been of age for a while already. It was troubling to find a matching suitor for her, but come to think of it, you´re a great choice", he elaborated swiftly. Not beating around the bush, otherwise, he knew that would likely confuse or irritate the man.

Wulf´s eye widened drastically upon hearing him speak. His breath hitched slightly and he needed a moment to recover before he could answer. He didn´t need to, anyway, since Canute continued to talk. "I trust you the most to treat my sister well, I´m sure you will be a great husband to her. This way, both of you remain at court, by my side."

Normally, hearing such words from His Majesty would make Wulf´s heart swell with pride. But now, Princess Eira had already been very dear to her. Wulf had even thought of the possibility to wed her if everything would go right. He was very obviously infatuated with her and often clutched the handkerchief he wore, his mind drifting off to her.

Now, he´d have to marry the king´s sister instead, which would change the bond he had with his paramour. As the husband of her dearest friend, Eira would likely refrain from continuing their affair and both of them would end up with broken hearts.

Everything inside of him kept screaming "No" denying the idea of a marriage with his sister. But Wulf was in no position to deny His Majesty anything, especially not after Canute had showered him with such compliments, which he definitely did to persuade him. What would he even tell him? "No, thank you. I´d rather defile your niece instead."

Ridding himself from those thoughts, Wulf nodded pliantly. "It is a great honor for you to think so highly of me, Your Majesty." Feeling satisfied with the outcome, Canute had to suppress a smirk. "I´m sure my sister will happily agree to this union."

"I don´t", Wulf thought but kept quiet instead. It would be stupid to say such a thing out loud, especially if he was offered such an honorable betrothal. Marrying the king´s sister was a great achievement and would directly make him a member of the royal family. It would have been outrageous to deny such a thing in the first place, regardless of what position he had found himself in.

"Besides, I could proudly call you my brother-in-law", Canute added with a rare smile. Wulf couldn´t do anything else than smile as well, happy upon hearing such encouraging words from His Majesty himself. It was quite rare, to be exact, that Canute would speak so highly of someone.

Still, he felt torn. By marrying Estrid he´d clearly be in his favour, but that union would destroy anything that had formed between him and Eira.

Echoes of boasting voices erupted, pulling Wulf from his thoughts. It sounded like a commotion; several men were yelling excitedly. Turning around, Wulf squinted his eyes to try and take notice of what was happening. It seemed like the men were huddled together, encircling something or someone and cheering it up.

Canute shot him a confused glance but didn´t speak up. Standing up from his previous seat, Wulf excused himself to find out himself what was going on. Or rather, to clear his head a bit which had turned foggy from the entire conversation he held.

It was confusing, to say the least. The men were practically squeezed together, making it hard for Wulf to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Eventually, he was able to squeeze through himself, catching sight of the middle as well.

Two men were encircled by the rest. One appeared to be a subordinate, while the other, of a much smaller stature, looked like a slave. His clothes were dirtied and thorn and he had a soft glint in his eyes, which was vastly different from the majority of Vikings. Wulf didn´t stay around for long, only picking up on some snippets of their conversation, before the taller man had started to throw punches at him.

Wulf then went back to Canute, who had been standing with Floki, seemingly caught in a civil conversation with the older man. When Canute noticed him, he slightly raised his brows. "Did you figure out what the fuss is about?"

Halting in front of the pair, he quickly bowed before answering, "Yes, Your Majesty. Looks like Ketil has decided to send a messenger over. It wasn´t a personal surrender from Ketil, so now our men are trying to get him to leave."

Tilting his head slightly, he dropped his gaze to the grass instead. "But it seems the man has no intention of giving up." Canute began to walk away from them, turning his back as he took a few steps while he spoke. "Did you get his name and position?"

"Yes, he said his name is Thorfinn, he´s the son of Thors and he´s a hand on the farm."

Immediately, Canute´s eyes widened. Whether it was in recognition or due to surprise, his eyes got drastically bigger as he heard those words. His breath hitched and his brows were raised, which resulted in wrinkles appearing on his forehead.

Never in a million years did he think he´d hear that name again. Thorfinn had been enslaved, the last time he had known of him. How high was the possibility that the Thorfinn he knew would be on the same farm as him?

"Is he young, short of stature?", he hesitantly questioned. Wulf´s good eye opened in surprise, watching the man with an unreadable expression. "Yes, exactly. Do you know who this man is?" Subconsciously, Canute had reached forward to graze his fingers along the scar on his cheek. The first scar he ever got, was the one he had from Thorfinn.

"What shall we do with him then? Will you meet with Thorfinn?" Wulf asked when he noticed that Canute wouldn´t answer his question any soon and his reaction did tell enough. Canute let go of his cheek, contemplating for a moment before he replied again.

"No, it won´t be necessary." his back was still turned to his advisor and he stood rigid for a moment before he continued to walk further away from them. Floki smirked as he listened in on the conversation, smug as always.

There was no way that the son of Thors was alive and here, was it? A stupid thought, Floki believed.

When Wulf surmised Canute wouldn´t come back any soon, he decided to join the commotion again. This way, he´d at least be able to distract himself from his inner turmoil. He kept on gripping the fabric inside his pocket tightly as if he feared it might vanish.

It was unusual to see a man of short stature be able to suck up all those punches. The man called Thorfinn must have been used to such kinds of beatings. By analyzing the movements of him, Wulf quickly noticed that the man had subtly changed his posture to distribute impact throughout his body. It was so subtly that no one seemed to notice he was dodging all the attacks.

Despite his skillful dodges, the man he was receiving all the punches from was a strong fighter, and therefore Thorfinn would probably not last very long like this.

Nonetheless, Wulf was still impressed by Thorfinn. While he observed the two, he noticed how the blond man had been caught off guard for a moment, before Drott, the Viking, landed a real punch on him this time. The short man staggered and he spat two bloodied teeth but then he did something unexpectantly.

Thorfinn provoked the man by taunting his "lack of strength", which did get under Drott´s skin quickly. A determined expression was evident on Thorfinn´s face, and the men around him watched speechlessly as they were flabbergasted by his unexpected demeanor. One of the men, a ravenette, tried to intervene in the fight, claiming that Ketil´s envoy would die in the course of this.

It didn´t change anything, though. A different man gripped his arm tightly which quickly shut the ravenette up, leading to the continuation of the one-sided fight. It took long to throw so many punches that could remotely come close to the number one hundred and the sun was already beginning to set.

It felt like hours, but at the same time, it felt like a few seconds. The crowd was still watching intently and one of them dared to speak. No matter how often Drott launched a jab, Thorfinn stayed rigidly in place with a blank expression. His face was already swollen and covered in bruises by now, his face was unrecognizable compared to before.

Drott was the one to become exhausted and each punch got weaker and weaker. The hundredth one wasn´t even close to wounding him before he finally let out a gasp and fell to the floor, much too exhausted by it.

Thorfinn still stayed in place, gazing down at Drott who tried to catch his breath. It was quiet, and everyone watched to see what would unfold. Eventually, Drott had raised his head to meet Thorfinn´s gaze, apologizing wholeheartedly for doubting him. "You… You are a true warrior", he acknowledged as he kept his gaze glued to the man he beaten into a pulp.

Then, turning around to Wulf, Drott directed his next words at him. "Captain, this man here once served His Majesty as an imperial guard, just like us. Please sir, would you kindly allow him to see King Canute?" the man was kneeling in front of the blond male, who was in an almost catatonic-like state.

Approaching them, Wulf stood directly in front of Thorfinn to observe his face from close. "Although lightweight, you seem to be very well trained, Thorfinn. But why didn´t you hit him back?" Thorfinn did not move as the captain spoke to him, nor did he reply anything. "Had you beaten Drott, it would have proven that you used to be an imperial guard to His Majesty."

Finally, the man had moved. He tilted his head to the side, staring at the ground as he thought over Wulf´s words. "Well that´s a dumb question to ask, isn´t it? There is no sense to beat someone when you´re trying to negotiate for peace." his tone became more passionate with each word he spoke.

"Especially since I´ve met you just today. We don´t know anything about each other, I have no grudges against you. So why, why do we have to fight?" Tilting his head downward, Thorfinn tried to shut his eyes but quickly discarded that idea, since it hurt too much by the friction. "It´s ridiculous. The only people that should be fighting are Ketil and Canute. The leaders should be playing Hnefatafl, not us. We shouldn´t be the ones settling their quarrel."

"Because there is absolutely no reason for this many people to shed their blood. It shouldn´t be us, we´ve just met each other. And that means that no one here is my enemy, because no one is my enemy." the expression on his face had turned determined again and his hands were clenched into fists, while his stance remained stiff.

"You have guts, coming here in front of this many veteran warriors, saying you refuse war so boldly..." Wulf was amused by the amount of courage Thorfinn had, chuckling as he thoughtfully gripped his chin. "So Ketil and the King should play Hnefatafl?"

Furrowing his brows, Thorfinn replied, "Why is that so funny?" to which Wulf was quick to apologize. "You should try making that proposal directly to His Majesty then. He´s not reckless, the king´s not fighting a war because he wants to. If you are granted an audience with him, then you´ll understand his intentions."

The glint in Thorfinn´s eyes became more vivid. Wulf turned around to the men, extracting his hand forward as he spoke. "Make way! We will take this messenger to the presence of His Majesty" Immediately, the crowd pliantly split into two groups, forming a path. Wulf was the first to walk forward, while Thorfinn stayed behind.

He turned around to his friend, Einar. His face was serious has he met his gaze, asking him to accompany him. "We´re going to meet the very person who started this war. I´m sure you have plenty to say as well."

Shocked by the offer, the taller man stared dumbfoundedly before recovering after a few seconds. His face matched the determination his friend expressed. "Damn right! I have a whole lot to say!" his brows creased as he spoke and he clenched his fists the same way Thorfinn did, before joining his side to follow Wulf.

It didn´t take long until they eventually arrived, as they had walked less than five minutes. Near them was the pile of corpses displayed. The dead bodies were brutally disfigured and the grass beneath them had been stained with blood. The worst of it? Thorfinn and Einar were able to recognize many of them, which traumatized the pair even more.

While they were still staring at the gruesome sight, Wulf had already approached Canute to tell him about Thorfinn. Canute had faced the sea the entire time and had therefore not noticed them approaching at all. Not only that, but he had outright refused to see him. That Thorfinn was still adamant about meeting with the king, was definitely a bold move.

After he was informed, Canute´s thoughts drifted off to his father´s death and the moment he had been scarred by the shaggy blonde. It was the day Canute had been scarred physically, but Thorfinn mentally. Did he regret giving Askeladd the finishing blow? Should he instead have allowed Thorfinn to avenge his father?

He knew the answer to that. Thorfinn´s biggest wish was to best Askeladd in a duel, which couldn´t have happened, regarding the outcome of that day. There was no other way, though. He did feel sympathy for him, which is why he let Thorfinn be enslaved, instead of executing him. It had still been a grave punishment, but any less would have made him seem like a weak monarch.

But never would he have expected to meet him this day, or any in the future.

Chapter Text

Sighing, Canute reluctantly lowered his head. "All right, then. I´ll see him. I respect my men´s feelings, as well as yours." He gazed off to the side with an unreadable expression. Wulf had thanked him before turning around, and facing the waiting men. "Ay, messengers! Come forward!"

Pliantly, the two guards who had been keeping the men from approaching seized their swords in order to let them walk forward. Both of them were dressed in plain clothing, although their attire had been dirtied by plenty. Unsurprisingly, the man who appeared to be Thorfinn, had a bruised face that made him unrecognizable.

It had been the first time Canute had ever seen him be wounded so obviously. In his memory, Thorfinn was a fierce and strong boy who was quick enough to escape any attacks. And now, the aging over the several years hadn´t helped to make him appear familiar. It was as if he had been a different person entirely.

Canute patiently waited for them to arrive. He felt uneasy, but he didn´t dare to show any hint of it. Halting, none of them spoke as Thorfinn and Canute stared at one another, their gazes meeting. The silence was quite loud.

"So you´ve managed to stay alive. It´s been a while, Thorfinn." There was something surreal to it. The first time they looked eyes on each other, Canute flimsily hid behind Ragnar as he cowered underneath Thorfinn´s glare. Now, it had been much different.

"A long while, you must despise me for enslaving you. Actually, you must be quite bitter about what happened to Askeladd" Canute had narrowed his eyes as he spoke, focusing his gaze on the ground, rather than the person he was talking to.

"I went against the royal family of Denmark and yet I am still alive. I´m deeply grateful for your consideration." His face was still aching, pulsing with each passing second as his bruises became more swollen. "I am sorry, for cutting your face with a knife." Canute was surprised by his words, not having expected such a mature response coming from him.

Wulf´s eye widened upon hearing the apology. He had heard of the name Thorfinn Karlsefni, who was responsible for the scar on the king´s face, but never had connected the dots between him and Thorfinn, son of Thors. It was surprising to see the man, who had fought on par with Thorkell. A man so young and short.

"Wait, you… attacked the king?" Einar was first to speak, his question directed at his friend beside him. His tone was uneasy and sweat glistened over his forehead upon processing the newfound information.

"I wouldn´t have recognized you with your face so swollen, but it seems you are the Thorfinn I know." Canute´s words held truth in them. "Well, haven´t you become a man to say such commendable things? It´s already been four years…" The number might feel meek, but lots of things had indeed changed in that period.

"I guess that´s plenty of time to change a person." Could Canute maybe find the common ground with Thorfinn he had searched for? The thing he had desperately tried to find, before giving up on it a long time ago? It may be of use to confide in him about his true goal. His father might be wrong, after all.

"Canute, I need you to get away from this farm" Upon hearing the request, Canute´s gaze hardened. "Can´t do that." It was ridiculous to even consider such a thing, not when he had done so much to fulfill his plan. "This all started because of Ketil´s men. It was Ketil´s youngest son Olmar. He killed ten of my subordinates out of resentment for not being able to make the" his tone had become more hostile as he spoke accusingly.

"So I´ve heard. But haven´t you done enough? Over a hundred men of the farm had been killed. With that many workers dead, the entire place may not be able to recover."

Shutting his eyes, Canute pursed his lips for a moment, before re-opening his eyes again. "Yes, well this was after I advised them to surrender. He misjudged my military strength, so the blame is Ketil´s."

Canute knew it had been his fault. He was the one to orchestra all this, after all. He was the one to push Ketil into fleeing, gathering troops and attempting to fight back out of fright.

"And therefore, the battle is not over until Ketil´s men have been punished." Scoffing, Einar shook his head in reply. "Tch, so in other words, it´s not over until you take this farm, right?" Canute glared at him with cold eyes, to which Einar accusingly pointed a finger in his direction.

"Don´t you dare try to justify what you´re doing!" Even though you´re the king, you´re exactly the same as any thief here!" Retracting his hand to ball it into a fist instead, he continued, "So tell me, what makes you any different from a typical Viking leader, huh?" His words were treasonous and daring.

"If you want a farm so bad, make your own damn farm! Plow your own soil and look after it, you´ll try growing your own farm! Then, you´d understand just how awful and utterly wrong it is to take someone´s farm from them!" Einar was utterly furious with that so-called "King", disgusted with his morals.

How was such a man able to call himself a monarch when all he did was weaken the ones who had already been weak?

"And Canute, do you remember what you said to me in Gainsborough long ago? You said you will build a paradise on this earth, a utopia, created for everyone that lives in suffering. So then, are you still doing that?" Thorfinn spoke up now, a stern expression etched on his face.

Canute had smirked, amused by Einar´s words. How ridiculous it was of him to speak like this to a king? But he did say something truthful. "A Viking leader? You´re certainly right, I do indeed rule over the Viking clans" he chuckled to himself before turning serious again. "I am the emperor in fact, and I am the most powerful Viking in all of the North Sea."

Einar and Thorfinn had kept quiet as he spoke. "I am the ruler who governs the largest territory in the Nordic region. I´m the general, leading a thousand ships with ten thousand men, my power surpasses all human wisdom, anything is possible for me, even the impossible!" he grew more cocky with each word he spoke and raised his arm to emphasize his speech.

His palm motioned towards the sea, almost as if he were to grasp it with his hand. "Behold, with the powers I have I will calm these waves." To make Thorfinn and Einar truly understand his point, he´d have to make an example such as this, no matter how absurd it might be. "And now, in the name of your emperor Canute, all mighty waves… calm your fury!" his eyes narrowed as he tried to grasp at the scenery.

After waiting for a moment, Canute retracted his arm again. Of course, the waves hadn´t been controlled by his words alone, such a thing could never happen. "You see that? Nothing changed. All of my power and I´m unable to stop even the smallest ripples in the sea."

His gaze was still focused on the scene in front of him. The sun was dipping below the horizon and cast an orange hue over the sky and former grey clouds. It was beautiful and peaceful. A glimpse of what he wanted to bring to earth, peace for all in need.

"Can you tell me who it is who controls the ripples and the waves?" he waited for an answer, which he didn´t get from the two. So then, he turned back around and frowned while speaking. "That would be god."

"Building a paradise on this earth means that we must go against his divine plan. That is rebellion against god. By only obeying his ordained course of life, humanity will not obtain happiness."

That only stirred up confusion inside of Thorfinn. "Rebellion?", he repeated questioningly. "Take a look around you, Thorfinn. Look at us, we are Vikings." Walking in front of the crowd that consisted of his subordinates, he raised his arm once again to motion to them. "We are the bearers of chaos and destruction, pillaging and burning towns. So answer this, do you believe we have the right to live in paradise?"

"Regardless, that´s exactly what makes us human. People commit crimes and continue to feel lost, that is all part of human nature. I´ll bring salvation to the men who were abandoned by god. Otherwise, there is no way for me to build a paradise."

He spoke passionately, strong-willed to make his dream come true. He wanted to save people and build a better world for them since god has failed humanity in that regard.

Einar wasn´t as quite convinced as Thorfinn, raising his eyebrow. "You´re going to salvage the Vikings?" his expression turned sour and his teeth were clenched together.

"Yes I am, I´m the only one who can. No one else would be able to conquer and control these men to gather their power together like you see here now, and lead them all to paradise." Clenching his fist, Canute added, "I need their help. I will gather the power of humanity and fight against god."

Thorfinn had been impressed by his speech, enamored by the beautiful idea of saving the Vikings. He had never thought of that, and he hadn´t expected Canute to be willing to achieve such a grand task. In a way, their ideologies matched, wanting to build a peaceful environment for others.

But Einar, on the other hand, gritted his teeth. "Canute, I´m going to beat your ass," he whispered quietly enough so he wouldn´t hear. The rest, though, he screamed. "Whatever great plan you think that you have is none of my business! But who will be the one to save the people you´re going to kill today and every day after?!"

Pointing his finger accusingly at the man, Einar continued to yell, "You´re going to let the Vikings off the hook and make good use of them, but you´re okay with killing and pillaging from people, who serve no purpose to you? It disgusts me that you´re thinking of creating paradise."

Canute didn´t falter, his expression was kept firm. "Resent me all you want, it´s not like I expect you to forgive me." This irked Einar, who grunted before moving forward to launch himself at the king, although Thorfinn kept him in his place.

"Don´t do it, Einar" he trusted him enough to let him go, knowing that Einar had no intentions of actually hurting the man when thinking rationally. After that, he turned to Canute again and asked him directly, "Do you intend to back off this farm?"

"I don´t. For my plan to work, I´ll need Ketil´s assets" Thorfinn huffed upon his reply, obviously unsatisfied with it. "What are you going to do about it, Thorfinn?"

"Will you kill me, right here right now? You need to make a choice, you won´t be able to stop me if you don´t" Canute motioned for his men to walk forward, slowly approaching the two messengers. They began to encircle the duo with their weapons so that they´d be trapped.

"How could you be so foolish, my son?" it was now his father´s voice whispering inside his ear. As unfitting as it was, Canute now had to deal with another "visit" of Sweyn. "Why did you reveal your true feelings to this man? He´s inferior, below you, Canute."

"Don´t tell me you were trying to find common understanding so that no bloodshed would occur. A true king should never reveal his desires to the common folk."

The voice of his father became more quiet, fading into the background when Thorfinn spoke up. "Listen, Canute. If you intend to see this madness through by resorting to violence once more, then I... will run away."

This took Canute by surprise. How could he simply accept it without threatening to use violence or such? Thorfinn was a Viking once, he knew the way of war and was no stranger to bloodshed. Was he truly this adamant about being a pacifist that he would try to escape his fate instead of fighting back?

"So that´s it, you´ll run away? Is that all you´re going to do?" The short man slowly nodded, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Yes, what other choice do I have?"

"Should you and I attempt to kill each other here? This paradise that you keep speaking about...it can save many people and can torment a few. That is what it does, right?" he sounded aloof as he spoke as if he were completely engulfed by his thoughts.

"To be honest with you, I don´t know if it´s a good thing or a bad thing and I have no right to criticize your absurdity. So all I can do, is to run away." He knew Canute was trying to save people in his own... twisted way. And Thorfinn didn´t know what made him think like this, nor did he understand how. Therefore, he felt as if he was in no position to judge him for it.

"Einar, let´s go," he told his friend, motioning for him to follow as he began to walk away, turning his back to Canute. "Stop right there!" his sudden order surprised the two, halting shortly in their step to listen to His Majesty´s words.

"So you let yourself get beaten, just so to stand before an emperor and admonish him to his face?" his brows were furrowed and his tone held an incline of animosity.

"Yes and that didn´t work well," he replied bluntly before turning around once again. "Farewell then, Your Majesty."

Canute watched as the two men continued to walk, trembling as he tried to hold in his laughter. What sort of negotiation was this? Thorfinn had no trick up his sleeve, no way of defending himself, nor did he have a hidden agenda.

Just simply appearing, letting himself get beat up just to request that Canute should stop the requisition? That was the most absurd peace negotiation he ever had!

He couldn´t contain it anymore, and he began to erupt in laughter. No matter how much he tried to suppress it, he couldn´t help himself. He stabilized himself by resting one hand on top of his knee, while the other held his head.

When was the last time he had laughed whole-heartedly like this? The reason for it was quite abstruse. No matter how twisted it may be, he found the entire situation quite humorous.

Thorfinn and Einar turned around, unfazed by his demeanor while Wulf watched dumbfoundedly, never having seen this side of the king. "Countless… countless enemies have come, trying to stop me. Some even tried to trick me..." he giggled between each sentence, failing at pulling himself together.

"but you… what exactly was your plan here?" he raised a brow, staring at him with widened eyes while grinning. "You colossal fool! Tch, you didn´t have anything up your sleeve? You chose to come unarmed, took a terrible beating, and had nothing more to say than to tell me not to take the farm?"

He continued to chuckle, irking the men. "Is it that funny?" Thorfinn asked with a straight face, to which Canute replied," Oh it is! I´ve never participated in such a foolish negotiation before." he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in order to stop his laughter. His lips then straightened into a line again as he raised his head, gazing at Thorfinn again.

"So you´ll run, huh?" Thorfinn nodded in reply. Canute hummed, seemingly in thought as he pondered Thorfinn´s decision to escape. It was truly amazing how a beautiful pacifist like him could stem from the Vikings.

"Tell me, Thorfinn. Where will you run to escape the war in conflict?"

"Somewhere that´s not here. And I won´t tell you where it is, Canute." The two stared at one another, holding eye contact as they conversed.

"My territory only continues to expand. I will never stop, eventually, my borders will reach you," he argued. This way, a place without violence couldn´t ever exist. Thorfinn didn´t understand that.

"Then I´ll keep running as far as I can. If there´s a place to run to, then I won´t fight. I´ll go to a place beyond the king´s reach and build a land of peace. But I´ll do it my way, I´ll do it for those who suffer, who cannot live in the world you created. For you and for myself."

Canute watched him with a skeptical expression, not quite convinced of that so-called "plan". "So let me get this straight: are you telling me that you´re going to fill the hole, left by my great work?" Furrowing his brows, he added", are you capable of that?"

"My power is far weaker than yours. I can´t handle it if the hole is too large. If you continue to persecute others like this, there will be no one to save you." Crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head, Thorfinn stared at him expectantly. "So you might wanna get to work and don´t make my job any harder."

Astonished, Canute stared at him with wide eyes as he listened to him. Witnessing Thorfinn be so talkative was a real surprise. Four years ago it was rare to hear him say a full sentence, especially if it wasn´t a complaint. "Tch, good grief. You´ve become quite the talker over the years. I´m curious, who did you get that from?"

Thorfinn huffed, not willing to answer the question.

The scenery around them had long changed since then. Stars were illuminating the land and the looming night sky had somewhat matched the atmosphere of the current situation.

Canute had been amazed by Thorfinn´s goal, believing it was impossible to achieve such a thing. He truly did wonder, how it would all turn out, could Thorfinn really have such a feat? The least Canute could do was help Thorfinn out a bit, by making the hole in his work less big.

Eventually, he accepted Thorfinn´s request by not capturing the farm but instead departing for Jelling again. This way, Canute was able to make it easier for Thorfinn to succeed.

Was it all for nothing? Withdrawing from the farm? Canute didn´t think so. Ketil´s farm was one of many, hence why he could relinquish it. By not going through with the requisition, Canute was able to gain new companions who sought the same goal of peace as him.

It was already midnight when the royal´s fleet dispatched to sea, sailing beneath the night sky to reach court.

Wulf and Canute stood on one of the ships, gazing at the scenery quietly. Sparking up a conversation, Wulf informed him, "Floki was quite displeased with your choice. He didn´t see why you decided to withdraw from the farm."

Keeping his eyes glued to the stars, Canute hummed in thought. "Are you displeased too, Wulf?" The captain had a soft smile, not hesitating to reply. "Not at all."

Canute then turned around, smirking at him. "Then let us head home and reconsider our plan to claim the farms of others. I really wouldn´t want to make Thorfinn´s job any harder." Wulf nodded, though he didn´t respond verbally.

The two continued to gaze at the scenery, in awe of its beauty before Canute spoke up again. "You know, until now, I actually thought that you were the only one truly fighting by my side. But today, I´ve gained new allies." he too had a smile etched onto his lips now, shutting his eyes to enjoy the fresh breeze fanning over his face.

Wulf was content, as well as Canute was. But it was only fleeting, for the thoughts of the betrothal had crossed his mind again. He couldn´t allow himself to be satisfied, not when he wasn´t free. This marriage would put him in chains, and worse, destroy the one thing that truly made him happy.

But there was no other way, was it? He´d have to suck it up since it would now be his duty to fulfill. He merely wondered, how could he possibly explain this to Eira.

------

Picking up a small flower, Adalgund was careful enough not to hurt any petals before lifting it to Estrid.

The two took a stroll through the gardens, conversing while they occasionally stopped to pick up flowers that caught their eyes. Estrid spoke of her wish to make a bouquet and bring it to her brother´s grave.

Happily, Adalgund complied and helped her with the work, keeping an eye out for any pretty flowers that would suit the rest. It was still quite early in the morning and therefore Eira hadn´t been on her feet yet. Actually, she was sleeping in instead, completely missing the small meet-up they had planned beforehand.

"It´s gorgeous," she replied with a smile and took the flower from his grasp, adding it to the many ones she held in her palm. Raising it to her nose, she took a whiff of them, humming in satisfaction. "I love the scent of flowers," she gushed happily.

Adalgund raised a brow, curious. Then, she extracted them from his nose, accidentally bumping the flowers against him. He blinked, overwhelmed by the variety of scents. "Oh, sorry" she sheepishly retracted her hand, to which he softly rubbed his nose. "No worries," he chuckled at her flushed demeanor.

Soon she began to join him, erupting into a fit of laughter. Normally, a few heads would turn in their reaction to the sudden noise. But since they were out early, the only people who were outside, aside from themselves, were guards on their shift.

Adalgund blushed at the sound of her laughter, reveling in the way he could have an effect on her. He smiled, his eyes squinting and creasing wrinkles as he stared at her.

He began to notice how often he stared at her, watching her in awe whenever she did something, even at mundane things. He couldn´t quite grasp why he was so fascinated with her. It might have been because he had never met someone like her. Someone so... soft.

She was soft with everything. Caring for flowers, insects, and with people. She wasn´t judgemental, that was the first thing he found out about her.

When Estrid had to use both her hands to carry the bouquet, they decided they had enough and began to walk towards her late brother´s grave. It was peaceful and quiet. It was rare to find a person one could comfortably share silence with.

Adalgund had offered her condolences on the way and again when they arrived at the place, kneeling in front of the grave as Estrid carefully placed the bouquet before the stone plate.

She wished Eira would have joined them, but she also knew that Harald´s death had been a sore spot for her. She never talked about him, nor did she ever witness her crying after his passing. Not at the funeral, nor the several days after.

Of course, everyone dealt with grief in their own ways, but Estrid was worried for her friend. She knew of her habit of keeping those sorts of things locked up, suppressing them instead of truly processing them.

Lately, she appeared to be fine, like her usual self. Estrid couldn´t form in words how happy she had been by that fact. But subconsciously she kept worrying, as if she believed her friend hadn´t coped with her father´s death, really. What if she only forced the thoughts of her father away, acting as if he hadn´t existed, at all?

Adalgund sensed her inner turmoil, noticing the troubled expression of her. "Is everything alright?" he rested his hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, furrowing his brows as he watched her.

"Yes, but... it´s all a bit much for me," she replied thoughtfully, the corners of her mouth pulled downward into a frown. Eventually, she rested her hand on top of his, gripping it tightly as if she were searching for comfort.

Adalgund pulled his hand away from her shoulder, intertwining his hand with her´s instead. The two of them sat on the grass, gazing at the graving while holding hands. "Losing a sibling is one of the worst feelings in the world," he spoke quietly.

She squeezed his hand in reply. She had an idea of what he meant by that but didn´t want to press any further on a sore subject such as this. Instead, the two spent each other comfort in their own way, sitting by the stone plate for what felt like hours.

After hunger had crept its way into their stomach, the pair decided to go back to the castle and eat breakfast together. Unsurprisingly, Eira still hasn´t awakened from her slumber and therefore hasn´t graced them with her presence.

As thoughtful as Estrid was, she ordered the servants to bring her some breakfast to her chambers. This way, she wouldn´t have to attend to her history lesson with an empty stomach.

When they had finished eating, they decided to visit the gardens again and rest for some time. Weirdly enough, they weren´t as affected by the cold as yesterday. It was an indicator of the fact the weather was turning warmer now. Estrid hadn´t been as fond of hot climates as Eira, but she did prefer the summer over the winter.

But her favorite season of all was spring, of course. Now that it was arriving, she could stare at the new varieties of flowers blossoming to life, etching the image to her mind so she could stitch their patterns into cloth.

They sat together beneath the weeping willow, now conversing much lighter themes than beforehand. When Eira finally joined them, the two of them got more awkward, suddenly much more aware of everything they said.

After Eira sat with them for some time, she had excused herself to practice archery. Whether it had been because she truly wanted to train, or because she picked up on their tension and wanted them to be alone, was irrelevant. Maybe she also just wanted to be alone…

The entire time her mind drifted off to the fact her uncle would be crowned soon. Even though she had already made amends with it, she still held some sort of underlying grudge against him, despite how nice he might have treated her lately.

And the fact he took something that was her´s still irked her.

A green cloak had been draped over her shoulders, along with a hood that covered her face. She enjoyed being "concealed" when practicing on her own. She felt more like a "true hunter" with this.

A thegn had accompanied her due to safety reasons into the woods, guarding her as she began to hit targets. She was adamant about being physically used to this again, so she wouldn´t be exhausted after a short training session with Wulf.

It had been deliberately easy to shoot targets from far away or at a certain height, she was already perfectly trained in that regard. What she still had to practice though, was shooting moving targets or when she herself was moving, like when riding on top of a horse, for example.

Eira never wanted a situation to occur where she would hesitate before shooting. Especially not in a serious situation, such as back then where she had taken the life of a man. Never would she ever want to go through that feeling again, that sense of uncertainty.

Therefore, Eira had ordered a valet to attend as help. He was ordered to connect dummies with ropes, pulling on them while running in random directions. Then, Eira needed to shoot the moving dummies while they picked up on speed each time, making it deliberately harder for her to hit the targets in a fatal spot.

Of course, she began to tire and grew frustrated and sweat was already forming at her hairline. But she would stay outside and train until she finally hit all of the targets at their heads, pushing herself with the goal tremendously.

That´s how much of a perfectionist she was. When she was good at something, then she pushed herself to be perfect. One reason more as to why she never attempted to participate in embroidery seriously. She always sucked at it.

After a while, the valet had grown too exhausted to continue when he stumbled over a rope while running. Eira´s first instinct was to yell at him, scolding him for not taking his job seriously. But she quickly saw that he fell weirdly, breaking his arm in the process. With that sort of injury, he obviously couldn´t resume.

Her eyes slightly widened in surprise, pursing her lips while she cringed at the sound. That sure must have hurt... The valet winced in pain, grasping his arm while shutting his eyes.

"Send him to the physician" Her words were directed at the thegn, shooting him a warning glare before she picked up her bow and arrows. "Do fetch another valet to clean the mess while you´re at it."

She threw the boy one last glance before going back to the castle, pondering before she spoke to the thegn again. "Make sure the boy doesn´t work until his injury has fully healed. That´s an order." it was the least she could do, feeling a bit guilty for what had happened to him. Eira did partially blame herself for it.

The thegn nodded curtly, approaching the valet before helping him stabilize, raising him to his feet.

Eira didn´t see Adalgund nor Estrid at the royal gardens when she passed by. Well, she would have been confused if she did. Eira had been training for a long time, after all.

She wouldn´t want to look for them, since Eira didn´t know how long Adalgund would remain at court before departing for home again. Therefore the two should make use of the short time left, Eira believed.

So instead, she let the hood fall off her head and decided to spend the rest of her day at the library, searching for books she hadn´t laid her eyes on yet.

Honestly, she had been bored out of her mind today. No matter how often she reread the words written on the pages, she had no clue what she was truly reading about. Her mind kept drifting off to the next few days.

On one hand, she couldn´t wait for Wulf to arrive and finally be embraced in his arms. To finally inhale his musky scent again and be cuddled up beside him. On the other hand, his arrival would mean her uncle would be crowned soon enough…

The rest of the day she would spend inside the hall, then. Eira would sit between the bookshelves and read her way through books that caught her attention, waiting for the day to be finally over.

Chapter Text

The weather had turned warmer than anticipated and the sun shone brighter, different than the days before. Merely the occasional breeze gave one chill, other than that one was able to step outside without a cloak on.

Immediately, Estrid, Adalgund, and Eira used it to their advantage and decided to spend the entire day outside on horseback, after attending to their royal duties, of course. It had been exhilarating to ride a horse again, especially when doing it with friends. Eira and Estrid were excited to introduce the boy to a cliff near a river, where they often used to spend the afternoon in summertime.

Of course, they weren´t alone. A pair of thegns were following the entire time, "guarding" them. It came with a price to be born into nobility, such as privacy.

Nonetheless, they had a great time, lying in the grass and basking in the sun. Who knew if tomorrow the sun would shine equally as today? Their sleeves were already dirtied by plenty of green and brown splotches from lying on the ground.

They felt carefree, like children again in the small moment. Even if it would only be for a day, they´d take it for granted. Who knew what else could soon happen? Everything was destined to change, anyway. With the coronation of Canute due in time, it was a matter of time, when the life at court would convert into something entirely different.

Eira rolled up the sleeves of her riding attire, the cold air inevitably hitting her bare skin. It hadn´t been that warm yet, but it was between that or running around with sleeves soaked with mud.

Adalgund and Estrid were sprawled out on their back, their eyes closed as they enjoyed the rays of sunlight gracing their faces, while Eira sat beside them, hugging her knees as she stared off to the horizon.

She softly hummed to herself, inhaling the earthy scent as she hugged her knees even tighter, forming herself into a ball. Her fingertips grazed against her goosebumps-littered skin, as she seemed to be lost in thought.

"How do you feel about Canute´s coronation?" Eira refrained from using titles since she was in no need to be formal in their presence. Her question had caught Estrid slightly off guard, who pulled her brows together, pondering over what to reply.

"I´m happy for him. I know it is something he longed for," she replied thoughtfully, glancing at Adalgund who shut his eyes. Perhaps he was dozing off?

"But I do worry. It is a great responsibility to bear," she added hesitantly while squinting her eyes when staring into the sun´s direction. She blinked, her eyes hurting from the harsh light.

Eira hummed, choosing not to speak as she listened to her friend´s words. With a soft sigh, she shut her eyes and listened to the soft breeze that fanned over her face.

She wasn´t quite sure how many hours they had already spent just sitting on the cliff, admiring the scenery. It was relaxing to ride and admire nature, it was somehow peaceful. Eira was often told that her late mother was excellent at horse riding, and therefore she tried her best to become as good as her to make her proud.

That was until she accidentally fell off a horse, fracturing an arm when she was only eleven. Since that day, her father was wary of her being near a horse, resulting in her only being able to ride on rare occasions.

Eira still remembered vividly how much shame she felt that day, how small she felt after that happened. She felt as if she was not worthy of being a princess, of being her mother´s daughter. How ashamed that woman would have been if she found out her daughter was terrible at so many things!

She clutched the charm of her necklace, her fingertip grazing along the small pattern of its charm as she thought of her late mother. The memory still made her feel meek, as if unworthy of the title she had. Maybe it was the right decision of her father to name Canute as his heir, instead of her.

How could Eira possibly hold such a grudge against her father if he merely had made the right decision? There was nothing to blame him for, was it?

Eira bit her lip harshly, opening her eyes again to be met with the green blades of grass. She tried to force those insecure thoughts away, standing up from her previous spot to take a shortcut down to the river.

Each step she took was careful and coordinated before she finally reached the body of water. She listened as the water flowed over the smooth pebbles and stones, producing sounds of splashes when it encountered larger rocks.

She struck out a hand, her fingers grazing against the cold while her sleeve became wet in the process. Her gaze flew over the several small stones, admiring their beauty. One in particular had caught her interest, whose structure reminded her of a chest. Rolling her sleeves up, she stuck her lower arm inside the water, retrieving the stone.

After inspecting it up close, she dried it off with her sleeve before putting it inside her pocket. Estrid watched her from atop with a grin, debating on whether to join her or stay by Adalgund´s side. Glancing at him, Estrid noticed his absent state, clearly having fallen asleep.

Then, she stood up from her spot and walked down to her friend, raising her skirt so she wouldn´t stumble over it. Eira heard footsteps approaching and a grin tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw her friend out of the corner of her eye.

Without hesitation, she drowned her hands inside the cold water, cupping her hands in it before splashing it in Estrid´s direction. She squeaked in surprise, failing to escape the attack when she was met face-to-face with the droplets of water. Estrid gasped, her eyes were now stuck together by the wetness.

Eira had to cover her mouth with her palm, hiding her grin as she gazed at the princess. Drying her face with her sleeve, Estrid quickly recovered before glaring at her friend. Then, she ran forward to cup her hands inside the freezing water as well, splashing her friend as an act of revenge.

"You-" Eira groaned at the sensation of the harsh cold, widening her eyes before she broke out into laughter. The two of them kept engaging in childish acts, meanwhile wetting the other. The commotion had reached Adalgund´s ears, who began to stir in his sleep.

His eyes fluttered open, taking in the harsh lights around him. Noticing the absence of his friends, he threw a confused glance over to the thegns. The man´s eyes darted off towards the river, where the sounds emerged from. Patting the dirt off his trousers, he then stood up to join their side.

Bewildered by what they were doing, his eyes went wide. A small grin tugged at his lips as he watched, chuckling at the scene. The two, now fully soaked, turned around simultaneously at the sound of his laughter. "Care to join us, Adalgund?" Eira smirked at the boy, her dress fully drenched in water, similar to Estrid´s.

Instead of replying, his brows raised in surprise. "You´re shivering!" The two princesses were in fact both trembling from the cold. Estrid had subconsciously hugged herself for more warmth.

"What a spoilsport" Eira rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance before the corners of her lips turned upward. Estrid on the other hand felt the cold breeze nip at her skin, making her teeth clatter. "We should go back before we get sick," she uttered while glancing at the horses.

Nodding, he agreed to her words, turning on his heel to lead the way to their horses. It sucked that no one brought a cloak, thinking it would have been too warm for one. Obviously, that was untrue.

The three then got on top of their respective horses, riding off quickly while the thegns followed them. It had been even worse when riding on top of a horse since the breeze was much harsher this way. The girls were shivering, yearning for the castle´s interior.

------------

Gunnar had been stressed, having been tasked with greeting all the noble guests who were currently all arriving to witness the coronation of Canute. Normally, Princess Estrid and Princess Eira should have done that themselves, for it had been part of their duty.

But the two had already been taking care of their guest, Adalgund. Even if they spent an unnecessary amount of time with him, they were still "attending to their duties". Particularly Eira noticeably slacking off since her uncle had officially been named as heir. If there was a feast or such, she refrained from showing up.

This had been because she wouldn´t be crowned as queen, meaning there was less of a burden on her shoulders and less of a reason to be perfect. Where was the point in being dutiful if one would stay unimportant? Instead, she´d now spend more time doing things she truly enjoyed doing, for example, horse riding with a companion.

It irked Gunnar, who had never been fond of her in the first place. Her obstinate nature wasn´t something a princess should have.

The slick of sweat on top of his forehead was enough evidence for his distressed state. His shoulders were tense as he spoke with a forced grin, motioning for the guests to enter the castle. A pair of servants had already been tasked with carrying their luggage to their respective chambers.

His eyes squinted when he noticed a carriage halting, the exterior reminding of a cleric. Staring for a few moments, Gunnar waited to see who´d come out with crossed arms. A young man exited, whose attire appeared to be the one of a benedictine monk.

He stepped toward the castle, his expression was blank as he moved forward. He wore a small pouch on his shoulder which bounced with each step he took. When he reached Gunnar, he slightly bowed, showing the shaven spot on his head.

"I have a message for His Majesty, Canute" his voice held no hint of emotion as he spoke, glancing at the man with bored eyes. Gunnar quirked a brow at his words. "His Majesty is absent. You may give the letter to me, his advisor," he replied hastily with a pinched expression.

The monk sighed and opened his pouch, reaching for two sealed letters. "It is the papal dispensation His Majesty requested from the pope, along with a second letter from the archbishop of Lund," he elaborated while handing the said letters to him, the rough parchment grazing against his skin.

Gunnar stared puzzingly at the seals, particularly the one from the pope himself. A papal bull, what for? Gunnar was sure that His Majesty would have discussed such things with him beforehand. For what could Canute possibly need a dispensation from the church?

Gunnar threw him a confused glance, hesitating before he put the letters away. "I see, you´ve come from a long journey. You may rest for the night if you wish," he then offered, twirling his mustache between his fingertips.

"No thank you, I must be on my way again" his reply was blunt, matching his demeanor. Gunnar nodded, watching as the man turned on his heel to enter the carriage once again as if he had been in a hurry. Men of the church had always been quite… particular, to say the least.

Gunnar stood still, watching as the carriage took off again, departing as quickly as it had arrived. His brows were furrowed, his eyes glancing at his pockets where the letters had been stuck in.

Why would His Majesty not confide in him first, before requesting the pope such a grand thing? And the better question was, why the hell does Canute need a dispensation, anyway? Especially since Canute grew up as a devout Christian, then why did he feel the need to be exempted from a Christian law in particular?

-------

When the three had finally arrived at the castle, Eira and Estrid rushed inside for a hot bath to prevent sickness. Adalgund waited inside his respective chambers, reading a small book he brought from home. He didn´t know how long he waited, but the sun had already dipped below the horizon, resulting in darkness. Therefore, he lit candles inside the room, providing light.

When the two princesses had ultimately finished their bath, they dressed themselves inside a flowy gown, along with thick cloaks that were draped around their shoulders to shield them from any cold. Despite it being too warm to wear a cloak inside, they didn´t want to get sick, hence why they wore it.

Then after a short while, the two stood outside Adalgund´s chambers, knocking softly on the wooden door. The boy quickly opened and a smile formed on his lips at the sight of them. "We´ll visit the solar, do you want to come along?" Estrid stared expectantly at him, her eyes squinted while she smiled.

"The solar? Isn´t that a bit too private for me to be invited?" Confused, he stared at the two girls. Eira only shrugged in reply, to which Estrid spoke up again. "Canute is absent, so there´s no one to prohibit from you doing so."

Scratching his nape, his uncertain gaze switched between the two. "I´m not sure if that´s a good idea…" This time, Eira rolled her eyes to emphasize her annoyance, instead of feigning it. "There´s no need to worry. Only Estrid and I have a say in that matter, so come with us."

"Fine," he replied, defeat evident in his tone as he sighed. He quickly shut the door behind him, following their lead. The walk was quite long, as they had to reach the upper area of the castle, where the solar had been located, along with their own chambers.

When they finally arrived, a guard outside the solar had glanced at them questioningly but didn´t open his mouth to say anything. Opening the door, Eira leads the other two inside before shutting it behind her again.

Estrid sat down on the comforter, patting the seat beside her. Adalgund then joined her side, resting his back against the soft fabric. His eyes trailed along the wall tapestries in awe, analyzing each detail with great interest.

Eira, on the other hand, reached for a chest, opening it. Inside were painting materials and several canvases. Picking up a few brushes, paint tubes, and one canvas, she then closed the chest again and walked to an easel beside the window sill. Starting with soft strokes, Eira began to color the background while Estrid picked up a conversation with Adalgund.

His gaze had darkened when the subject of family arose, dancing around the questions Estrid directed at him. "So your father´s sick?" A curt nod followed before he sighed, staring off to the ground. "No one´s sure what he has, but his health isn´t turning better at the moment. Before I departed for the Danish court, my father was bedridden. Don´t know how he´s doing currently, though."

"And he still sent you off to court?" Eira had now spoked up from behind and concentrated on the painting she was tasked with. "Yes... But I plan on going back this week, even though my father would refuse for me to do so."

Eira hummed in reply, applying more color to the canvas as she pondered his reply. Estrid too was thinking over his words, quietly reaching forward to intertwine her hand with his. In a comforting manner, she began to rub circles in his skin and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Adalgund shut his eyes, reveling in the moment as she was close to him. Her touch was soothing and she smelled sweetly, making him sigh contently after he had inhaled the scent of her hair. The two of them were quiet from then on, slowly drifting off to slumber. The only sounds came from each brush stroke applied by Eira, who was determined to finish the painting in one go. Her hands had already been covered in spots of color and her fingers soon became tired.

A knock then erupted from the door, awakening the two from the comforter. "You may enter," Eira´s bored voice called out. The door was opened by a servant, who bowed respectfully at them. "Your Highnesses, dinner will be served shortly."

Nodding, she walked towards her friends, flicking their foreheads to wake them up. They groaned at the sharp pain, quickly waking up in the process. Eira dismissed the servant, who then closed the door. She walked over to her previous spot and began to clean up her used materials.

Adalgund and Estrid rubbed their foreheads simultaneously, blushing when they noticed their cuddled-up position. "What was that for?" Estrid whined at her friend, furrowing her brows as she stared at her. "Dinner´s ready," Eira replied curtly before she finished stuffing the items inside the chest, closing it swiftly afterward. "Could have been a bit nicer, don´t you agree?" Eira merely rolled her eyes, dismissing her with a swat of her hand.

"Why does the solar have a kitchen and dining space?" Adalgund stared off to the said space with a raised brow, standing up from his seat as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "If someone cares to cook in a private setting, I suppose…," Estrid answered with an unsure tone.

"But no one does, so the space hasn´t been used in years," Eira added before pushing the door open, waiting for the two to follow her. Adalgund nodded in reply stepping outside the hall. Torches on each side illuminated the stone walls, exposing each crumbled pebble.

"God, I´m quite hungry," Estrid admitted while pressing a palm to her stomach. The other two agreed, longing for the delicious food they would soon eat. "Let us walk more quickly, then," Eira smirked at her, fastening her pace as she walked forward.

"Wait for us!" Adalgund called after her before he glanced toward Estrid beside him, raising an eyebrow expectantly. She grinned, nodding before she matched his pace to catch up with Eira.

When they arrived at the dining hall, a guard opened the doors for them to enter. The scent of several dishes immediately filled their nostrils, making their mouths almost water. Quickly, each one of them took a seat at the table and waited for the servants to place each plate on the table´s surface.

"A prayer before we begin?" Eira rolled her eyes at Estrid´s request but agreed nonetheless. Adalgund also nodded and the three of them held the other one´s hand while shutting their eyes.

"O gracious Lord, we humbly ask for your blessing upon this meal. May it nourish us and give us strength to serve with love and devotion. With grateful hearts, we give thanks for your abundant blessings. Amen." When she finished the prayer, all of them re-opened their eyes.

They only ate for a few minutes when another knock erupted from the doors. Then, a guard opened the doors for a messenger to enter. He immediately bowed, addressing the three of them before his eyes darted off to Adalgund. "A letter arrived for you, Ser. It is an emergency."

Furrowing his brows, he extracted his hand, to which the man quickly walked up to him, placing it inside his palm. His blood ran cold upon seeing the familiar seal. Hastily, he ripped it open to extract the content, unfolding a piece of paper to read the words written on the parchment.

Estrid and Eira watched with confused glances, waiting for his reaction. When he finished reading, his eyes went wide and he bit his lip nervously. "What is it?" Eira asked when she noticed he wouldn´t speak up by himself.

He gulped, staring at her with terror in his expression. His lips were parted, hesitating before finally speaking. "My father is lying on his deathbed." Estrid gasped at the revelation, frowning before she put a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"I must depart for home immediately," he added with a quiet voice, standing up from his seat suddenly. "Now?" Estrid widened her eyes at him when his shoulder escaped her grasp. He nodded, neglecting the food left on his plate when he shoved the stool back in its respective spot.

"Are you out of your mind? In the middle of the night?!" Estrid now also stood up, reaching for him by the shoulder again and turning him around to meet her eyes. "I understand the urgency of the situation, but it is too late! You can depart in the morning after breakfast, but you can´t go so suddenly without thinking it through!" Her voice was trembling, worry evident in her eyes.

"Estrid, let him if he truly wishes to. It´s his right." Eira stared down at her plate with a solemn expression, attempting to calm her friend. "It´s dangerous!"

Adalgund slowly detached her fingers from his shoulders, frowning at her. "I´m sorry. I will write to you as soon as I will arrive home, I promise." Estrid stared after him with a troubled expression, her hands shaking.

"Arrange a carriage, I will depart as soon as possible," he told the messenger who nodded in reply. "May you tell a servant to pick up my belongings?" the man bowed, assuring him he´d do so before he turned on his heel to attend to the tasks at hand.

Tapping her fingers against the table absentmindedly, Eira zoned off, her eyes glued to the food on her plate which had already turned cold by now. "Please, don´t go now," tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as she gripped his arms, the corners of her mouth twitching downward into a frown.

Detaching one of her hands from his sleeve, he cupped it instead and pressed a soft, longing kiss on her delicate skin. "You needn´t worry. I will write to you and visit as soon as possible." His promise was full of raw emotion and his eyes were glazed as he stared into hers.

Nodding slowly, she retracted her hands from him and instead wrapped her arms around herself. "At least eat a piece of cake before you go. I don´t want you to travel on an empty stomach." Adalgund complied, sitting back down to eat the rest of his food. Then, he quickly ate a cake like Estrid requested, before emptying his goblet of wine.

The doors were opened again and the messenger from before entered. "The carriage has been arranged, Ser. Your luggage has also been safely stored inside of it." Adalgund nodded at him, uttering a few words of thanks before he stood up from his seat again. Eira got up as well, pulling him into a hug before she said goodbye.

Estrid watched with a sad smile, forcing away the tears that almost slipped out. Adalgund then followed the messenger outside the castle, Estrid following with a guard. Eira on the other hand stayed inside, retreating to her chambers instead. She wanted to give the two a bit more privacy, especially since it was their farewell.

The looming darkness swallowed almost everything in its wake, apart from a few things that were illuminated by torches, for example, the small carriage that had been arranged for Adalgund. With few deliberate steps, he reached for the carriage´s entrance, sitting down on a small seat. Hesitantly, Estrid slowly stepped inside, cupping his cheeks before she placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I already miss you," she admitted quietly into his skin before retracting, a blush covering her cheeks. Adalgund got flustered, his cheeks matching the color of a tomato. Gladly, the darkness hid the red of his skin, which gave him an ounce more confidence.

He reached forward to pull her in, planting a soft and slow kiss on her lips. Shocked, she didn´t react. He then retracted from the kiss, caressing the softness of her cheek before he pulled away. "I will see you soon," he told her quietly with a sad smile.

Leaning into the touch, she shut her eyes for a short moment before finally pulling away. Farewell, Adalgund."

She then stepped outside the carriage, staring after the carriage as it began to disappear from her sight. Tears were now flowing down her cheeks, coating her skin in the salty liquid. Hesitantly, Estrid then turned around to follow the messenger back inside the castle, along with the guard.

She already knew she´d be sitting at her desk, writing a letter to him until she would eventually fall asleep. It was hard to say goodbye to him, not expecting to see him depart so soon already. It was a bittersweet feeling that was pulsating through her chest. The kiss still lingered on the flesh of her lips, her fingers reaching forward to graze against them.

----------

Land was finally in sight again after days of traveling on the North Sea. Canute couldn´t fathom how much he longed to stand on the soil of Jelling and rest on a comfortable mattress again. It had already been morning, the sun lighting up the entire sky in its wake.

His blue eyes stared ahead, gazing at the approaching landscape with a tired expression. The few books he had brought with him for travel had all been finished on the first few days, leaving him bored and the only way to spend time was by conversing with Wulf or listening to his father´s voice, echoing in his mind with insults because of his choice of confiding in a commoner like Thorfinn.

Canute kept on ignoring the voice, adamant and confident in his move. A dead man held no authority over him and Canute stopped being amused by his antics, hence why he stopped engaging in the hallucinations.

Despite, the men on the ships would figure him as mad if they´d hear him talk to himself. Obviously he wouldn´t allow himself to loose face because of such an absurd reason.

Only a few hours more and then he´d finally be at court again...

Chapter Text

On the night of Adalgund´s departure, Estrid hadn´t slept in her own chambers. With watering eyes, the princess sought comfort from her friend instead of writing a letter to her paramour. She only halted at her chambers to change into a nightgown before exiting the room, quietly shutting the door behind her, and going to Eira´s, knocking on the door with a solemn expression.

Opening it, Eira gave her a surprised look. When staring into her glossy eyes, her face turned apologetic. Without words, she stepped aside to let her in, shutting the door softly. She sat back down on the mattress, motioning for her friend to follow. A sad smile graced her lips, embracing her when Estrid rested her back on her.

Eira wasn´t exactly good at comforting someone. Mostly it was Estrid who was empathetic and soothing. But right now, she knew how much her friend needed it and therefore tried to remember what she would do in such a situation.

Her fingers raked through Estrid´s blond hair, caressing her until she grew tired. While softly humming along the motion, Estrid was quick to shut her eyes, yawning and falling limp in her embrace soon after, succumbing to sleep.

It had been a while ago since the last time Eira slept with someone by her side. Being used to move freely- tossing and turning in her sleep- it was quite difficult to adapt to the new position. Her arms were draped around her, hugging her tightly while Estrid´s back was facing her.

Despite not being used to it, the sleep had been comfortable. The sole sensation of a heated body in her arms had been enough to make her drift off to sleep soon enough.

Embraced in each others arms, the two woke up in the early morning, their rest had been disrupted by a servant knocking on the door. Eira furrowed her brows, squinting her eyes at the sound and called out with a groggy voice, "Come in."

The servant lowered her head when she opened, peeking inside before fully entering. She slightly widened her eyes when she noticed two silhouettes lying on top of the mattress. "Oh, Your Highness. A few maids have been wondering about your absence, but I´m glad to inform them that you are safe and sound." She gave the two girls a closed-eyed smile, bowing slightly before she raised her head again.

"His Majesty has already arrived at court," the servant added with a cheerful tone. Upon hearing the revelation, Eira´s eyes shot open. "Already?" she didn´t try to hide her disdain, staring at the servant with blank eyes.

Estrid quickly gripped her hands, squeezing them with joy before she raised them to her own chest. "We´ve got to greet him!" she then ushered for her to stand up as well, slightly pushing her off the bed. Eira merely rolled her eyes but complied nonetheless.

"A gathering will be held at noon as well, to welcome His Majesty back at court" The servant´s smile almost gave off an eerie vibe, weirdly excited by the feast that would soon take place. Or it might have just been Eira´s imagination going wild at the newfound information.

A feast, great. That meant lots of small talk with insufferable people. She´d survive... hopefully.

"Oh, that does sound lovely!" Estrid´s grin was bright and wide, but Eira was able to notice the sadness she conveyed. Whenever she´d force a smile, she subconsciously pressed her lips more tightly together than with a normal smile. A small habit she picked up on.

"I´ll see you outside then," Estrid told her friend before stepping outside the room to get dressed inside her own chambers. Nodding in reply, Eira stood up on her feet and walked towards the mirror, ranking her eyes over her appearance. The circles underneath her eyes had darkened by a bit, now more visible.

Perhaps the gathering would be excruciatingly long and boring, but at least she could finally see Wulf again. She couldn´t wait to be embraced by him and kiss his lips again, inhaling his comforting scent. Her heart was already racing at the mere thought of him.

Covering her mouth with her palm, she concealed a yawn and turned to the servant. "You may pick out a gown for me."

----------

"Your Majesty, what a pleasure! I sure hope your travel hadn´t been too displeasing," Gunnar greeted Canute with an obnoxious tone. Canute shut his eyes for a moment, sighing before he replied, "Could have been worse." He gazed at him with stern eyes, exhaustion evident in the way his eyes were slightly droopy.

Wulf, who stood beside him, was dismissed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he nodded in reply and walked off to the castle afterward. Canute stared after him, watching as he slowly disappeared from his sight before he faced Gunnar again. "Come with me to my study, we have some things to discuss." Gunnar nodded, bowing slightly before he followed the blonde man inside the castle.

After reaching the door to his study, he quickly unlocked it, letting himself in, along with Gunnar. The man shut the door behind himself, pulling out two envelopes from his pouch. Canute sat down on the comforter, groaning when his body met soft fabric after such a long period.

He truly missed that privilege.

His gaze landed on a spot of dust on top of his desk and quickly swatted it away with the palm of his hand. His study was prone to get somewhat filthy if it was only cleaned on occasions when Canute was present, since otherwise it was kept locked.

"What is that?" He raised a brow, staring at the items inside the man´s palm. "Oh, these…" he placed the two envelopes on the desk in front of him before fidgeting with his mustache. "These are two letters from the archbishop of Lund and the pope himself."

It truly couldn´t have been more perfect timing.

"That´s good to hear." Canute held up one of the envelopes, opening it with a small knife. It was the pope´s letter, obviously noticeable from the fancy signature popping into his sight. He was careful enough not to damage the neatly placed sigil on the front when he opened it.

"I was told this is a requested papal dispensation from the pope. Might I ask what for? I´m sure Your Majesty would have consulted in me first..." he awkwardly laughed after trailing off, crossing his arms behind his back.

Canute sighed in reply, his gaze ranking over the still-folded letter. "Yes, Gunnar, it´s a dsipensation. I need it in order to marry Princess Eira. I apologize for not consulting in you beforehand, but you wouldn´t have had a say in that matter anyway."

A bit blunt, even for him. But Canute wasn´t in the mood to sugercoat anything and a nagging person as Gunnar was truly getting on his nerves when he was this tired.

Taken aback, Gunnar opens his mouth to reply but no words escape him. He blinked a few times, closing his mouth again to regain his composure. "Your Majesty, why is it you wish to wedd... your niece?"

Resting his chin on his palm, Canute´s gaze wandered over to the man´s face before he placed the letter on the surface in front of him. "Well, Gunnar, I´m sure you can find an explanation on your own" With narrowed eyes he stared at him.

As if wheels were turning in his head, Gunnar gazed off to the ground, his brows furrowing before he visibly relaxed. "I suppose it is a smart political move to make her your queen since some might claim her to be the rightful heir and will try to usurp you."

When Canute didn´t correct him, he confidently continued to speak, "And it would be great to unify two danish royal bloodlines in to one. But it is a delicate matter, which is why it is quite hard to be granted a dispensation of such sort."

"How were you able to receive a papal bull from the pope? He doesn´t grant incestuous betrothals quite often," the man remarked, twirling his facial hair between his fingertips. Canute´s eyes ranked over the unopened letter, sent from the archbishop of Lund.

He then grabbed it, holding it up for Gunnar to see. "The Archbishop of Lund has aided me in that matter and persuaded him into agreeing."

Gunnar watched in bewilderment, his eyes almost popping out of his eye sockets in the way they widened. "I wasn´t aware that the archbishop is an ally of the crown." Canute´s lips formed into a slight smirk, as if proud of his former strategic moves.

"I bribed him with the promise for control over a wealthy monastery, along with being allowed to place people of his choosing in high-ranking church positions of the properties he holds control over in Denmark."

Gunnar shifted in his stance, processing the information. "Then I assume he is now under Your Majesty´s direct influence?" Canute gave him a curt nod, now finally bringing his attention to the two letters on the desk.

First, he read the pope´s, going through each word carefully before he placed it inside a drawer, closing it as quickly as he had opened it. Everything written on the paper truly had been in his favor.

Not like it had been easy to go through with such a plan. The archbishop wasn´t a greedy man and therefore wasn´t easily persuaded when Canute spoke of gifting him properties, such as churches. They had a brief correspondence, discussing different terms. This was until Canute finally caught his interest by offering him the right to install people of his choosing in different church positions.

He was fond of the idea of distributing his influence over various regions, such as gifting his allies promising positions. Soon after, the holy man finally agreed. It had been roughly almost two months ago when Canute had first written to him.

If it hadn´t been for the archbishop, the pope would have taken several months to reply, no less without a dispensation, most likely.

"Don´t you agree on offering him a position at your council then, Your Majesty? This way, we could ensure the archbishop´s loyalty and benefit from his influences directly." Humming in reply, Canute pondered his suggestion. "That´s a good idea, but I´ll have to give it a thought another time."

Frantically, Gunnar quickly nodded his head, furrowing his brows while he forced his lips into a panicked grin. "Of course, Your Majesty! In what way can I help you with the current matter at hand?"

"There´s no need for help with that, but instead you might look for some new farms we can requisition," Canute replied with a calm demeanor. He opened the other letter, discarding the envelope before reading in silence.

"Oh, what I did forget to tell you is that wedding preparations must quickly be made for Wulf and my sister." Canute kept his eyes fixated on the paper in his grip, not looking up at Gunnar at all. The man, surprised by the new information, staggered a bit. "Of course, Your Majesty. Do you have a date in mind?"

"Preferably a few days after my coronation." Gunnar nodded, pleased to have been given a structure to work with. "Splendid. Speaking of which, a small feast will be held at noon to welcome you back to court. This way, you may do public announcements before your coronation on Sunday."

Canute hummed, placing the letter on the desk again. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and his muscles were painfully aching. His whole sluggishness was a reminder of the negative parts that come with travel this long. If there was only a way to slumber before the feast would begin…

Before he´d almost fall asleep right then and there, on this stool in front of Gunnar, his focus shifted entirely onto him, who stood rigid.

Even if Canute was extremely exhausted from his prior travel, a gathering with court officials was in his favor. It would also be the perfect way to announce the betrothal between Wulf and Estrid, wasn´t it? Wulf already knew about it and agreed. Estrid on the other hand might be upset about it but she´d never outright refuse her dear brother, so the feast should go smoothly and without a fuss.

"Good, you may leave, Gunnar." The man slightly raised a brow, perplexed by the sudden dismissal. Surely there were more things to discuss, right? Especially after His Majesty was absent for a short period, there were still some topics Gunnar wished to discuss with him. Or at least he wished for Canute to confide in him about certain matters at hand.

Nonetheless, he still bowed to him, bidding his goodbye before he closed the door behind him. Canute watched with narrowed eyes, his breathing becoming more shallow with each passing second.

Dozing off for a short while couldn´t hurt, would it?

----------

The first place she looked for Wulf was the training field. The way she knew him, Eira was sure that the first thing he´d do was train. He´d always push himself to the limit and wouldn´t ever take a break, even though he needed it.

Surely it was a trait they both had, connecting them in some way. It´s highly subjective whether one would call it an admirable trait to have or a destructive one, but at least they had it in common.

Eira couldn´t refrain from smiling the entire walk up to the porch, from which she glanced around the field. A feeling only possible to describe as giddy was cursing through her body. It was a sense of euphoria, paired with a sort of dizziness that made her feel light headed.

Her smile spread out into a wide grin when she finally caught a glimpse of a tall silhouette, immediately knowing it was Wulf from his mere backside.

He seemed to be swinging a wooden sword at one of his henchmen, the ladder seemingly distraught and exhausted. He was panting and sweating profusely, his forehead glistening in the sun as he kept his eyes on Wulf, attempting to put more distance between themselves with a step backward.

Wulf didn´t let go easy, but instead pushed forward with his ´blade´, shoving the man onto the ground. Taken off guard, the man gasped and accidentally got dirt wiped into his mouth, making him choke quite a bit.

Slapping a few hard times on his back, Wulf helped him cough the dirt out before holding his hand out for him. "You´ve turned even more ruthless since you´ve lost your eye," he jested while grabbing his hand.

Wulf glanced at him, pondering his response. "Mhm" he ultimately shrugged, staring at the wooden sword in his hand before he switched his gaze to the young thegn again. "I guess you want a break?"

The young man nodded, chuckling a bit while he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "When sparring with you, yes of course!"

Wulf then handed his sword to the man, who quickly got hold of it to store it where other weapons were held. After nodding to him, Wulf glanced at the ground for a few seconds.

In all honesty, the reason for him not immediately seeking Eira´s presence was his inner turmoil. He still didn´t know how to tell her about the arrangement made by Canute, especially since he didn´t wish to see her reaction.

He pondered over the matter the entire travel to Jelling, struggling to sleep on board of the ship as they sailed under the starry night. His mind kept drifting off to Eira and how he could possibly break the news to her. In every scenario he imagined, he ended up hurting her feelings.

It was inevitable, that much was clear. But it would pain him to see her tear-stricken face. It would pain him to know that he was the reason for her sorrow.

Which is why he tried to evade that conversation and ultimately avoid her presence.

With a groan, he raised his head and turned around, resulting in him meeting her gaze.

Speak of the devil

His eye widened slightly, a shiver running down his spine. The timing couldn´t possibly be any better, could it?

He mustered a smile, not even slightly mirroring Eira´s happy expression. Frantically she began to wave at him, beckoning him to come to her. Wulf nodded, stepping forward towards the porch. Chewing on her bottom lip, she eagerly awaited him with big eyes.

When he came near, her face suddenly fell. Before Wulf could ask her what was wrong, Eira spoke up. "What happened to your eye?" her brows were furrowed as she stared at the eyepatch, inspecting it from close up. A tightness formed inside his chest, making him feel quite uneasy.

"A madman tried to poke it out," he replied with a hinge of nonchalance, which made Eira glare at him. How could he be so relaxed about such a thing? Was he just as mad as his attacker?

"What do you mean, a madman tried to poke it out?" she hissed at him, concern conceiled with fury. She refrained from grazing her fingertips against the black fabric of his eyepatch, remembering they were out in public.

"´tis not important, but seeing you again is" A generous smile grazed his lips, his heart almost melting at how concerned she seemed to be. "Is the eye lost?" she crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her fingertips on her sleeves as she took in his appearance.

"Yes, it is. But you needn´t worry, I´m fine." Hearing his sincere words made her sigh, the crease of her brow disappearing when she visibly relaxed. "I´m glad," her voice was now much softer as she spoke.

Aside from being reassured by Wulf, she still wished to bash the skull of that fucking lunatic in. Rage was still simmering inside her, but Wulf was luckily being able to calm her a bit.

"I missed you" her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke, gazing at him with saddened eyes. It already pained him seeing her like this, knowing he caused her to longing for him. He wished he could scoop her up in his arms, embrace as tight as he could and kiss her.

His gaze drifted down to her lips and stayed there long enough for Eira to notice. She blushed, her cheeks reddening and she stared off to the ground, biting her lip.

"Follow me... to the library," she didn´t look up to meet his eye, but instead turned around quickly and walked inside the castle, her dress swaying with each movement.

Wulf grinned to himself, his finger grazing against his upper lip as he had filthy thoughts of her.

It didn´t take him long until he finally followed her, trying his hardest to walk at a normal pace. If it were by him, he´d run towards the library and catch the attention of multiple passers, for all he cared.

But he didn´t.

Eira sprawled herself over the comforter, gazing into the fireplace. The warmth radiating onto her skin increased the flush on her cheeks. Her fingers twirled around a free lock of her hair, fiddling with it until she heard the doors open.

They were shut as quickly as they were opened, followed by a pair of footsteps making their way towards her. Before she could react, Wulf had already scooped her up from the comforter and carried her to a more secluded area of the library, hidden by two tall bookshelves.

She was carefully dropped to the ground, her back was now leaning against the cold stone wall and her face was pressed against his. His arms were still around her, squeezing the flesh of her waist through the dress she was wearing.

His lips collided with hers, their tongues engulfing the other. Tugging at his short hair, Eira whined into the kiss and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. Her heart was pounding inside her chest and her hands were trembling with pleasure.

Feeling him this close to her was enough in order to make her forget the time period in which he was gone. Enough to make her chase that euphoric feeling she loved.

Feeling intoxicated by arousal, his hand reached down to squeeze her bosom through the fabric, feeling the soft flesh move according to his touch. It was enough to make her moan in delight.

He kept kneading through her dress, before he decided to trail down to her ankle, pushing the skirt of her gown up. His touch left a burning trail along her skin, making her feel ablaze.

Her breath hitched when he reached her thigh, softly squeezing her flesh. Her eyes fluttered open and her hand reached forward to stop his, keeping it still on top of her thigh before she carefully pushed it away. It felt wrong to be this intimate with him and she couldn´t help but feel somewhat insecure.

No one had ever seen her bare, aside from the helping hand of servants and therefore she felt too vulnerable to let her guard down like this. What if he didn´t find her attractive anymore? She didn´t wish to find out and instead pushed him away, physically and mentally.

Not only that but what they were doing was taboo. Eira wasn´t supposed to participate in such unholy acts, anyway. Aside from not believing in the lord herself, she still felt immense guilt due to her upbringing. What would her father think if he´d see her like this?

Wulf retracted his hand, sitting now on the cold floor and resting his back against the wall. Slowly, he reached for the back of her head and let her nestle her cheek into his chest.

A sigh escaped his lips, feeling a bit frustrated. He understood her hesitation but still longed for her intimately. He knew they could never be like this anymore, which is why a small part of him hoped for something more. Just one time before they would have to part ways.

He began to caress her hair, his fingers entangling themselves into her hairstyle, making several strands fall loose. Eira kept glancing at her palm, watching as she slightly trembled.

"I´ve started to train again while you were gone," she spoke up with a quiet voice, not raising her head to meet his eye. Instead, she nuzzled her head deeper into his chest, comforted by his warmth and familiar scent.

"Have you?" she nodded softly, making him chuckle. "Well that doesn´t really surprise me, but I hope you didn´t overdo yourself."

"I didn´t" she smiled as she replied, clutching the fabric of his attire between her fingers. Wulf continued to ruffle her hair, pressing soft kisses onto her scalp.

Both of them were quiet, the only sound emerging from them were soft intakes of breath and the shuffling of clothes now and then whenever she moved in his grip. It was peaceful. Wulf didn´t want to disrupt this beautiful moment by telling her of what was bound to happen.

He just wanted to revel in the moment, or rather, he was a coward. He didn´t dare to ignite her fury or sadness, for he didn´t want to be the cause of her distress.

It was selfish thinking, obviously. But when did Wulf ever act in his own interest? Maybe it had begun the first time he pursued the princess. From then on his behaviour had changed, weirdly enough. Before that, he always acted in His Majesty´s best interest, never for himself.

Was it truly wrong of him to finally do something out of his own interest? Especially since this would only be temporary. Maybe this made him such an asshole, to begin with. Pursuing her, knowing they had no future together.

As self aware as he was, Wulf was still a coward and kept quiet, not uttering a word to the girl resting peacefully in his embrace. Instead, he kept staring at her with a sad look in his eyes, tightening his grip on her out of instinct.

------

A knock pulled Canute out of his slumber. He didn´t know how long he had dozed off, but he felt disorientated as he looked around the room with tired eyes. He blinked a few times before he rubbed his eyes, calling out, "You may enter."

Surprisingly, it was Estrid who came to look for him. She had a usual grin covering her face, aside from the tinge of sadness her eyes showed. If he noticed, he may have just imagined it.

"Brother, how I´ve missed you!" she quickly closed the door behind herself, before she lunged at him, pulling Canute into a tight hug. Overwhelmed by the sudden show of affection, he slowly tried to detach her grip on him. "Good to see you too, Estrid." he looked at her with tired eyes, covering his mouth before he yawned.

"How was the trip? I hope you were able to catch those scoundrels!" a rush of energy cursed through her body as she balled her fists, glancing at him with expectant eyes.

"No, they were let go," he replied with a blank expression. Estrid furrowed her brows at his answer, confused by the lack of an explanation. "Why?"

"Because of various reasons. But it´s irrelevant, so you must not worry." Canute motioned for her to sit on a stool across from him, which she quickly did. Clearing his throat, he sat more upright before locking eyes with her.

"My sweet sister Estrid, I want to discuss something important with you." Estrid raised her brows, her eyes going round when she heard him speak. "What of?" she asked with a sheepish voice, tapping her foot against the floor beneath her.

"Since you are already of age, I think you should wed someone," he replied with a softer tone and a smile graced his lips. Estrid suddenly became more excited, her thoughts drifting off to Adalgund.

"I suppose you´re right" Her sheepish tone didn´t vanish and she became flustered, her cheeks reddening at the thought of him.

"You´re my sister and I only wish what´s best for you. Therefore I don´t trust any men to treat you right besides one." he reached for her hand, caressing it on the cold surface while he gazed into her eyes. Confusion was written all over her face as she listened to him, beginning to feel uneasy with each passing second.

"I will betroth you to Wulf. He´s the only man I trust and I´m sure he will keep you safe and sound. This way you´ll also stay here at court by my side, isn´t that wonderful?" Canute softly squeezed her hand to make her say something. But all she did was zone out, her face losing all its color as she took in the information.

"Estrid?" he pulled her out of her thoughts, to which she blinked several times, fluttering her eyelashes. "I´m going to announce your betrothal at the small feast in the afternoon," he added with a satisfied smile so there would be no room for her to refuse.

Estrid merely nodded, not being able to form a coherent sentence. She was horrified by the idea of marrying someone like Wulf, someone who wasn´t Adalgund. Not only did depart so soon already, but now they would most likely never see one another again.

At least not romantically.

"Why don´t you freshen up a bit for the feast? I´ll do the same, come" he held out a hand for her, pulling her up to her feet. Estrid still didn´t say anything, following his orders like a lifeless doll.

In some way, she would be one from now on.

Chapter Text

Canute felt absolutely horrible.

Despite the smirk plastered on his lips, he felt like a disgusting human being. Albeit he felt somewhat satisfied that his plan was flourishing. It fucking sucked to ruin the lives of the people around him, especially people who were close to him. It seemed as if he was a parasite, exploiting things around him and taking advantage of others, draining them until they were nothing but pawns for him to use.

It was a surprise that he could even sleep at night, regarding the thoughts swaying his mind. The illusion of his father had long started to accompany him during the day again, filling his mind so he wouldn´t succumb to his own retched thoughts and become mad.

Not that his father was helping him ease his mind in any way, no. Not at all. The silhouette of his late father´s head kept terrorizing him, taunting him for the things he´d done. As if he didn´t have enough guilt eating him from the inside out. But what else was there to do? Canute was the one chosen to self-sacrifice for paradise on earth to thrive. For the happiness of all, he must toss aside his own.

And for that, the ones dear to him must suffer equally. It was unfair, that much he knew. His dearest brother, who had done nothing but support him in childhood met a horrifying end all because of Canute. His father, despite being wicked and ominous, was invidiously stripped of his crown, betrayed by his own son, no less. His sister was destined to live in a loveless marriage, despite being a person much too gleeful and innocent for this cruel world. His niece was inevitably forced to bear the fruits of this atrocious match to be made.

All in all, the only thing Canute thought regarding himself was self-loathing. He hated himself. Hated what he had to put others through, only because the lord himself abandoned the humans on earth. For the sick bastard, claiming to love all his children, to make them experience a life full of bloodshed, trauma, and fear.

To change that, Canute must put his own feelings aside and dedicate his life to that "project" of his. No matter how much sacrifices must be made in order to achieve that dream of his. No matter how many restless nights he´d have, waking up with dark circles underneath his eyes. No matter how often he spoke to himself, staring into a corner as if someone had been accompanying him. No matter how often he´d have to put on a poised mask to conceal his inner turmoil.

Canute felt the urge to punch himself in the gut when he saw the expression on Estrid´s face, knowing it was his fault. A girl so cheerful, always having a smile on her face, staring numbly into nothingness, because of her own brother. That usual smile of hers wiped from her face, completely blue instead. It was revolting, to say the least. He completely loathed himself in that moment, wanting to undo everything that caused her this sadness.

But he couldn´t, he wouldn´t.

So instead, the corner of his lips twitched into a slight smirk. It was his way to cope. Act like he was satisfied with each outcome, especially with himself. Canute quickly ushered her outside his study, not wanting to see her dismayed state anymore.

--

"I´m content to have Your Majesty back at court, healthy as a horse at that," a man boasted, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling as he grinned, holding up his goblet of wine.

One thing Eira took notice of as she got older: nobility tended to drown their cups in expensive wine while men of lowly birth stuck to beer. The stench of beer prickled her nose whenever she stepped onto the training field at court. It was as if the thegns around her left a trail of yeast and urine, an unpleasant smell most definitely.

Wine on the other hand had a rich scent. Whether it was because she associated the liquid with wealth, or because it indeed had a dulcet note didn´t matter. At least wine tasted sweet and Eira´s taste buds had been accustomed to the dryness the liquor often had. Therefore she didn´t shy away from the drink and found herself tipsy from indulging too much more often than she´d like to admit. Another habit she wasn´t exactly proud of (there were plenty anyway.)

Her eyes ranked along the long surface of the wooden table, big enough to fit dozens of people to dine together. Lots of cups filled with wine were displayed, along with several dishes, each containing vastly different ingredients. In the center was a roasted pig, decorated with salad and fruit. Funny enough, the dead animal reminded her of the odd encounter she had with the boy named Olmar. The way he attempted to bravely demonstrate his prowess which ended in his utter failure and his terrified expression afterwards…

It might be wrong of her to find humor in that, but the boy did end up murdering several thegns, together with his brother. So he wasn´t any good, was he?

Eira sat next to Estrid, who was seated on Canute's right. He, of course, was at the head of the table with Wulf on his left. With that, Eira was facing Gunnar the entire feast, who annoyingly so stared at her with an unreadable expression. Why, she did not know but it irked her nonetheless.

The rest of the seats were occupied by important men who were part of the Danish council and played overall an important role at court, so of course they were present to welcome the soon king back. An inaudible sigh escaped Eira´s lips as her gaze wandered over the faces of each individual. Estrid, whose gaze was glued to her own plate, was slightly trembling, as if uncomfortable in her own skin.

Her expression was distraught. Eira figured it was because of Adalgund. She was probably restless because she hadn´t received a letter yet, but it would take at least two days until one could arrive since messengers weren´t able to teleport. Still, she couldn´t help but steal glances at her friend, whose eyes were puffy and red, hinting at possible crying, which wasn´t unlikely in her case.

Keeping quiet herself, the princess instead chose to watch her uncle, who seemed quite tired himself. Apparently, no one at this table was feeling like themself, apart from the noblemen who were cherishing the audience with His Majesty.

Canute had already ordered for his goblet to be refilled, his lips painted a shade of dark red from the liquor he drank. Eira noticed his growing confidence, his paranoia crippling away by small bits. Estrid used to tell her of his refusal to eat refreshments she sent for him and she had also noticed whenever they dined together he´d never be the first to try the food or drinks, nor did he ever eat much from it, different from now where he was not frightened of the idea of being poisoned, but instead gladly took refills of that dulcet liquor.

But now, since he had arrived from his travel he was... different. Eira couldn´t pinpoint what it was, but it was definitely his cockiness that became more apparent. Well, not like he wasn´t cocky before but now he was somewhat embracing it more. Most likely because of the fact he was soon to be crowned as king of Denmark. Ruling over two countries in the North Sea could make one overly confident, Eira assumed. Still, no excuse for being a cunt, was it?

As quickly as she observed the change in his behavior, she became annoyed by it. Her feelings were conflicted regarding him, for he was a quite confusing individual.

Her uncle often let her borrow books from his fascinating collection, which she was glad for. She supposed it was indeed a nice thing of him to do, but on the other hand, he could be repulsive, in her opinion. Well, repulsive because of the fact he took something she saw as her own, still believing it to be, so she saw him with a biased perception.

Now was just the first time she saw him after his departure, shortly curtsying as a form of acknowledgment before seating herself next to her friend. Besides that, she barely even glanced at him, to which he just stared after her with a slight smirk which was barely even noticeable if one looked intently enough, amused by her abrasive attitude one might think.

His presence was just another reminder of her not following in her father´s footsteps. His sitting here at this table meant that in a few days, he´d be crowned and Eira´s biggest nightmare would finally reveal itself as true. It was now only a matter of time until Canute would finally choose to wed her off and she´d end up rotting in some castle far away from Jelling, far away from home.

How she dreads that day.

The men around her were cheering and kept on chanting irrelevant things. Eira had long gone faded their voices out, not listening to what they were saying at all. Her gaze was locked onto the food on the table, fearing it would grow cold if the men wouldn´t quickly shut their mouths. Another sigh left her lips before she quickly pressed them into a tight line when she noticed Gunnar staring at her again.

For the love of Eir, what did he want from her?! She physically had to subdue the urge to roll her eyes at him, angered by his ill manners. After what felt like hours, Canute had finally stood up from his seat, clearing his throat. It quickly shut everyone up, which made her content.

Now he´d only have to say the words and everyone could dig into the food which had been neglected too much for Eira´s liking.

What she didn´t notice, on the other hand, was how Wulf stole nervous glances at her every so often. As if he was anxious, anticipating what was to come. He was searching for her gaze, trying to communicate with her through eye contact. But Eira was occupied with staring at her goblet of wine, still untouched. The engraved pattern caught her attention all of a sudden and she suppressed the urge to drag her fingertips across it.

"Before we indulge in the wonderful food we were graced with, I may make an announcement," he began with a hint of a smirk showing. He raised his goblet with freshly refilled wine, his gaze ranking over each person who sat at the table. Then he cleared his throat again, his voice holding more confidence now, "I´m happy to announce a betrothal between my precious sister, Princess Estrid, with the head thegn Wulf. Two individuals very close to me and a match made in heaven, if I may add."

Canute couldn´t help but watch Eira, inspecting her reaction to the information with intent eyes. Her brows twitched, the skin in between them folding into creases. Confused, her gaze landed on Wulf´s, who stared at her with an apologetic eye. Eira felt her anxiety rise, having the urge to fidget with the tablecloth. It felt as if the temperature was too high all of a sudden, making her uncomfortable in her gown, the fabric itching her skin.

Suddenly she felt something squeeze her hand underneath the table; Estrid was holding her hand. Her expression had turned more doleful if it was even possible, based on how cheerless she looked beforehand. She was searching for comfort, seeking it from Eira´s touch. Estrid hadn´t known of her relationship with Wulf. She was only aware of how smitten she was with him, nothing more. So of course she didn´t know Eira would also be affected by this.

Therefore, Eira quickly pushed her feelings aside and squeezed her hand back in an attempt to comfort her. She had an idea of how horrible she currently felt since her paramour had left and she was now betrothed against her will. Softly, she began to rub her thumb across her delicate skin, soothing the princess while biting her lip.

The men around them were cheering upon hearing Canute´s words, clearly thinking of this arrangement as something positive. Canute had a pleased smile on his face, while Wulf continued to stare at Eira. Finally, she ripped her eyes from Estrid and instead met his gaze. From the way he was looking at her, he must have known of this beforehand. But why didn´t he choose to speak up about it? Eira couldn´t help but feel angered by it, being left in the blue.

The all-too-known feeling of insecurity arose, which made her clutch the fabric of her skirt between her fingers. Was he merely indulging her on a whim? Because of lustful thoughts that clouded his mind? Eira suddenly felt betrayed, as if played with them like she was a toy.

But instead of displaying what she currently felt, Eira reached for the goblet placed in front of her, taking a swig of it. The red liquid wet her lips, the dry cracks of her flesh receiving well-deserved moisture. She really had to stop her habit of biting her lip so often.

Canute then clasped his hands together, announcing that the participants of this feast may indulge in the food. Fucking finally. This way Eira could preoccupy her mind with chewing on a piece of meat, having something to do instead of staring off into nothing. Estrid didn´t eat much, which wasn´t surprising. If she were in her shoes, she´d also have no appetite but instead puke anything she´d try to ingest.

Her hand was still intertwined with Estrid´s throughout the entire feast, continuously rubbing circles into her skin. Not once did she spare Wulf a glance since she was aggravated by his very presence. Eira still couldn´t comprehend why he would keep such a thing from her and instead pursue her, knowing that he was a promised man. She felt disgusted. Repulsed by herself to have let her guard down this easily, leaving her heart shattered into pieces because of a man who led her on, knowing of her true feelings and pursuing them despite being aware of the outcome.

Bitterness crept up her chest, a familiar feeling that visited her regularly. Like an old kin, checking up on her occasionally. Just how fucking stupid had she truly been? Eira blamed it all on herself, feeling at fault for allowing herself to feel such deep emotions for one considered off-limits. If she had truly been thinking this through, she wouldn´t have indulged in the mere attraction she felt towards him.

But she couldn´t change the outcome, could she? All she was able to do now was close herself off, not let her emotions get the better of her. At best, she´d never indulge in a man´s feelings again, fearing the possible outcome of it. Now Eira would try and ignore the conflict brewing inside of her and instead take care of her dear friend. Estrid needed comfort, especially now.

Her knuckles were turning white from how tight she was clenching her fist in an attempt to let her frustration out in any possible way. She truly couldn´t wait for this miserable ´feast´ to finally end. The tension was palpable, making several people grow uncomfortable. At least Estrid had finally eaten a small portion of potatoes after Eira had ushered her to eat. Canute was still conversing with a lord whose name she didn´t care to remember. Wulf kept to himself, as quiet as a mouse while he ate.

When the dinner had soon come to an end, Eira quickly dismissed herself with her friend in tow, their hands still intertwined as they left the hall. Canute gave them a curt nod, barely glancing at the pair, avoiding Estrid´s silhouette so he wouldn´t see her dejected expression. Wulf wanted to follow her, talk to her. He wanted to explain himself to shed light on the darkness that formed between them.

But Eira did not care for his presence and quickly left instead. Her grip on Estrid was tight as ever as if to shield her from any more torment. When they stepped into the hallway, she immediately turned to meet Estrid´s gaze, inspecting her face. Her cheeks were glistened with tears, her eyes red and puffy. Her brows were pulled together into a frown and her breath hitched whenever she tried to inhale deeply.

Quickly, Eira pulled her into a meaningful hug, squinting her eyes shut when she felt desperate arms cling around her figure. With fingers threading into her soft blond hair, Eira leaned her head on her chest. This way she could orientate herself on her steady breathing, matching it. A sniffle was heard from the short girl, her fingers squeezing the flesh of her niece, as if scared she´d leave.

Eira didn´t know what to tell her, what to say that would make her feel better. But it didn´t matter. The sole presence of her, the sole touch of her was enough to soothe the ache Estrid felt deep inside her chest. She was glad for this moment, crying softly into the dark fabric of her friend. A wet splotch had already formed where Estrid´s face met her chest, but she didn´t care.

All she cared for was to comfort her.

Her fingers played with several strands of her hair, fiddling with it to distract herself from racing thoughts. Glancing down, she softly muttered, "Do you want to go to your chambers?" Estrid´s head slowly raised, her cries now audible when not muffled by the fabric of her gown. She still clung onto it, looking up at Eira with round and teary eyes. "Come with me to pray. Seek solace from his lord." With imploring eyes, she stared at her friend, who in return forced the urge to roll her eyes away.

Her lack of belief in the religion was irrelevant. Despite not wanting to spend time inside the cold prayer room, to stare at sculptures that made her uneasy, she still nodded. If that made Estrid feel better, then so it´d be.

Eira then reached for her hand again, entwining them before she led the way toward their destination. Apprehensiveness filled her chest, a sense of foreboding forming. The memories she had from that room made her heart clench, not knowing what to make of them. She used to pray with her father, this being one of the only ways to spend time with the overly religious man. Even there, she couldn´t converse much with him, since he was keen on praying in silence.

This might have been the reason for her disdain for Christian beliefs. It seemed to her that religion and the crown itself were more important than his own daughter. That the religion he was infatuated with was much more significant than Eira herself. It was one of the only ways to get near to him, to talk his ear off with blabbering nonsense about the religion he seemed fond of. The blue-covered book inside her drawer was a reminder of that, something she had refused to touch long ago.

The last time she stepped into the room of prayers had been with her father. It was enough to make her grunt in frustration, her head pounding at the unwelcome memories swaying inside her mind. She became anxious as soon as the doors opened, the familiar cold of the room engulfing her body. Goosebumps were littered across her skin and her eyes widened slightly as she took the room in.

The crucifix at the front took up most room of the stone wall. The familiar sculpture of a man nailed to a cross caught her attention, making her groan in frustration. Estrid was oblivious to this and walked forward to kneel in front of the sculpture which caused Eira´s despair. The same sculpture her father talked to daily, spending more time with it than with his own daughter.

Eira reluctantly joined her side after staring for a while, kneeling on the cold stoned floor as well. Out of instinct, she clasped her hands together and raised her chin toward the sculpture, the man who supposedly died for the sins of humans. With closed eyes, she listened to the quiet murmurs of Estrid, who was uttering words of prayers to the glorified figure.

Eira could hear the desperation in her friend's voice, hearing the occasional sniffs that came from her runny nose. For a fleeting moment, Eira had opened her eyes, sneaking a peek at her friend. Estrid´s delicate features were tear-struck, leaving an image of an angel who suffered a horrible fate. In some way, she was. At least that´s how Eira saw her.

Like an angel losing its wings.

Shutting her eyes, she turned to face the sculpture once again and kept quiet, listening to the pleads of Estrid. It felt agonizingly long, long enough for her limbs to start to ache from sitting on the hard floor. A cushion would be dearly welcomed, she thought.

After what felt like an eternity of listening to the whimper-like voice of Estrid, the praying soon came to a halt. She took notice of that by her voice quietening until not even a word escaped her lips. Carefully opening one eye, she met Estrid already gazing at her curiously. Her eyes were still reddened, which made her heart ache. It truly pained her to see her friend like this, when she usually was a person who´d only ever smile.

Then, she stood up, reaching for Estrid´s hand to pull her up as well. Raising to her feet, Estrid engulfed the taller princess into another hug, clinging onto her similar to how she did before. A sigh escaped Eira, her hand reaching forward to pet her head. "Let´s leave, alright?" The blonde nodded in return, loosening her grip before she turned to face the set of doors. Eira thought of a possible way to distract her friend from the current matter and perhaps lift her mood temporarily.

"Don´t you want to write a letter to Adalgund?" she continued to stare at the princess while stepping into the hallway, who entwined her hand with hers. Pondering her suggestion, Estrid hummed in thought while tightening her grip on her friend absent-mindedly. "I believe that´s a good idea," she then replied with a shaky voice, threatening to break. The corners of Eira´s mouth twitched downwards into a frown upon hearing her delicate voice, filled with utter sadness.

"I´m sure he will be excited to hear word from you." Her attempt to cheer her up didn´t exactly work, but at least she tried. A forced smile graced the blonde´s lips, a twinge of pain cursing through Eira´s chest when she saw it. There was no reason to conceal her sorrow, not with her.

Eira was quick on her feet, leading the short princess to follow in tow. The cold atmosphere radiating off the walls was very well aligned with the current emotions she felt. It wasn´t comforting at all, but it partially eased her mind a bit. It was better than being at the feast, listening to the cheers of drunken men who conveyed an opposing set of emotions. Here she wouldn´t have to keep up a miserable mask of content and was able to let her guard down with the person most dear to her.

It was quiet, the only sound emerging from their hurried footsteps. They soon came to a halt, right in front of the doors leading to Estrid´s chambers. The girl in question hiccuped, furrowing her brows before she turned away from the door. Her gaze didn´t meet Eira´s, though. She glanced off to her own feet, avoiding her gaze with a pout. Noticing her demeanor, Eira reached forward to ruffle her hair in a comforting manner, her lips pulled into a sad smile.

"I´ll leave you to your thoughts. I don´t want to distract you from writing to him, or else you´ll end up writing down nonsense." a chuckle escaped her lips when she finished speaking, sensing the shift in Estrid´s mood. She also was smiling now, the motion not forced, which was a stark contrast from before. "Very well," she replied softly, squeezing her arm affectionately before opening one of the doors, and slipping inside her chambers before the door was shut.

Eira stood outside, staring at the oak material of the doors. Her eyes trailed along the small details of the wood, refraining from grazing her fingertips against it. The small smile that shortly appeared on her face was now exchanged with a scowl, her gaze burning into the doors in front of her. Now alone, the emotions she suppressed were afloat, overwhelming her.

She continued to stare ahead for a moment, trying to get used to the surge of emotions rising. Suddenly she felt like vomiting, bile rising to her throat and threatening to spill out. A hand reached forward to cover her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut in the meantime. Her other hand was pressed to her stomach and she focused on in-and exhaling deeply. That should help, right? It was all too much for her, so many feelings appearing without knowing what to make of them. Raising her chin, Eira opened her eyes to gaze at the ceiling, her eyes ranking over the several artistic details engraved into the stone.

Slowly, she walked to a wall and leaned against it, plopping to the floor as she continued to focus on her breathing. Caught up too much in her head, she didn´t notice the footsteps echoing, nearing her in a fast manner. The only thing she noticed was a pair of calloused hands holding her cheeks, the rough skin connecting with hers making her shiver in return. It was a familiar touch and she didn´t have to look up to know whose hands they were.

"Eira, are you alright?" a desperate voice called out to her, brows furrowing as the man in question took in her pallor state. What a stupid fucking question was that? Would she be sitting with a tormented expression on the floor in the middle of the castle hallway? Would he be alright after hearing her paramour was to be wed to someone else, and realising he knew after all?

It didn´t take long for her to come to her senses again, his touch pulling her out of a trance as if ice-cold water was dumped over her. Teeth clenching, she pushed him away from her before sitting more upright, chest heaving dramatically. Her gaze fleeted over him, meeting his own for a short moment. It was then that she saw the heavy guilt displayed in his eye, along with anguish.

"Don´t touch me," she spat with malice evident in her tone. She was glaring at him with something that could only be described as utter hatred. But she didn´t hate him. What she felt was betrayal and misery, caused by someone she opened her heart to. But she didn´t want him to have the advantage of knowing that, no. Eira never wanted him to be aware of her true feelings again, scared of being taken advantage of.

Wulf quickly retracted his hands, standing upright now. It felt weird being stared at him while sitting on the floor, so she mimicked his action, standing on her feet now as well. "I´m sorry." It was the only thing he could muster up saying. Did it make it any better? No.

A snort escaped her lips upon hearing his apology. "Seriously?" Slowly raising her head, she glared at him before shaking her head in dismissal. "You knew, why didn´t you choose to tell me?" her tone grew more desperate with each word she uttered, staring at him with furrowed brows. Her bottom lip was trembling and her knuckles turned white from clenching them at her side. Wulf watched her, hesitating to reply. Anything he´d say would make it worse, that much he was sure of.

"Because I´m selfish." He lowered his head, staring at the light cascading from the window, illuminating a portion of the floor between them. A ray of light separating the two. "I chose to keep quiet because I wanted to relish in the moments I had left with you." Eira crossed her arms over her chest, staring off to the side while listening to his explanation. No, it didn´t make it any better. She wasn´t sure what she hoped to hear, but it wasn´t that.

"I´m sorry." She shook her head at that, pouting at the sound of his voice. "It doesn´t matter how often you utter an apology, you´re a selfish prick." And you´ve hurt my feelings, which I can´t forgive you for. Wulf nodded along her words, agreeing with her on that matter. Eira parted her lips to add something, but no words came. Her gaze drifted over to his form, the urge to have his arms engulf her in another hug too strong for her own good.

She shook her head again, pressing her lips into a tight line before she turned, leaving him alone in the hall. Her back was turned to him and not once did she turn around to inspect his hurt expression. She wouldn´t. If she did, Eira would likely succumb to her urges and embrace him. But she didn´t want that. He hurt her and should never have the momentum to do so again.

-

Dear Adalgund,

I have yet to receive word from you. My patience is running thin, I fear. I worry for your safety and eagerly await a letter from you.

I fear we might not see one another in the near future, for I am to be wed. I wish I could tell you about this matter in person, but there is no opportunity for it.

I was betrothed against my will, sadly I have no say in the matter. It pains me to be taken from you, both physically and mentally. Your affections won´t be forgotten, for I will always keep you close to my heart. My feelings for you won´t subside, as much as it hurts.

I beg of you to answer as soon as this letter reaches you.

Your dearest,

Princess Estrid.

Chapter Text

The next morning, it was quite difficult to brace for Eira. The princess did not close an eye until midnight, too engrossed in a book she had already read three times at least. It was a way of comforting herself, taking her mind off the things that took place yesterday. After she turned the last page of the book for a fourth time, she reached for painting materials and made random strokes with different sorts of brushes, letting her imagination run wild while her mind was on autopilot.

In the process, Eira dirtied herself with paint on several occasions, which made her nightgown end up looking like a rainbow. Well, a messy one. She merely rolled her eyes when noticing her attire, rubbing the paint marks off her arms in an attempt to clean herself before she noticed that it didn´t work.

Nothing a bath in the morning couldn´t fix.

When her painting session ended, one glance outside the window made her notice that the sun had already begun to rise. It was enough to alarm the princess and make her store all the painting materials and place the canvas on the window sill to dry. Even though so long awake, Eira still didn´t feel the urge to yawn, nor close her eyes from exhaustion. Her thoughts were consumed by the man she held close to her heart, the same man who ended up hurting her due to his cowardice.

She didn´t want to think about that, not at all. It only served to pain her more after what had occurred.

If it weren´t so fucking early in the morning, she´d knock on Canute´s door and ask if she could lend some books from him. Just so she wouldn´t lay in bed, without catching an ounce of sleep, overthinking all of the shit that happened. But of course, Eira isn´t that insane to wake him at this hour. Although the thought of her uncle being grumpy from the lack of sleep was pretty hilarious, truth be told.

Not funny enough to actually do that, though. So instead she threw herself on the bed, her nightgown still dirty from the wet paint flecks stuck on the fabric. She rested the back of her wrist on her face, covering her eyes with it. A sigh left her lips, already feeling the painting smudging onto her cheeks. The covers above her mattress were also full of paint by now due to her carelessness. Well, it didn´t matter much, did it? The bed sheets were interchanged every day, so the worst coming from that would be a rather uncomfortable sleep that night.

As she had already anticipated, she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling for what felt like hours, the only sound she heard emerging from her breaths. Eira wasn´t sure how long she laid rigid in the same position, but she chose to sit upright when feeling her cheeks wet. She dragged a finger across the flesh, noticing a tear that escaped her eyes. How… odd. As soon as she took notice of it, more tears followed, trailing down her cheeks and some even entering her lips.

The salty taste of her tears made her stand up, walking towards the mirror in her chambers. She truly was crying. The tears with no trigger, confusing the princess to no end. Eira didn´t cry at her father´s funeral, but she was crying now. It felt embarrassing to her, breaking down because of such "mundane" reasoning. Shame filled her chest, quickly wiping away the tears from her face. It didn´t result in anything other than more tears being produced, trailing along her cheeks again.

With furrowed brows, she continued to stare at herself in the mirror, disgust filling her. Disgusted with herself, disgusted with how she broke over hurt feelings. She was so fucking ashamed of herself, feeling weak from crying because of it. The negative emotions made her break down even more, sobbing in front of the mirror. Already feeling shitty before, she cried more at the sight. Watching herself cry made everything worse, thoughts of self-loathing crossing her mind. Her breath turned shaky, her eyes red and her eyelashes wet.

She felt miserable.

Eira lost track of time, not glancing outside the window anymore. She curled herself into a ball on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand to silence her sobs. Despite laying on the hard surface, weirdly enough she was able to find sleep quicker on the cold floor. Perhaps it was due to exhaustion from the crying and finally being able to let out her emotions. In some way, it was a good option to fall asleep quickly, but Eira was quick to regret that choice of hers.

It was awkward enough to be found sleeping on the floor, covered in paint by the servants. It was even more embarrassing to be found next to small droplets of her tears. Eira tried to avoid eye contact, ashamed to be seen in the state she was found in. Gladly, the servants chose not to speak on it, instead moving to draw her a bath, one she eagerly welcomed. The warm water worked well enough to soothe her muscles from sleeping on the floor and to detach the specks of paint on her skin.

Eira watched her reflection in the water, observing how it slowly blurred from the paint before disappearing. Inside the tub, she bent her legs, angling them so she could lean her head on her knees, hugging herself while staring off to the side. Breath slowing, she physically relaxed, slowly shutting her eyes to relish in the short span of calm. Aware of how much she was dragging her time inside the bath, she reluctantly straightened her legs again, rubbing herself clean before stepping outside the tub. One of the servants handed her a towel, which she then used to dry herself off.

When entering her bedroom again, she noticed the absence of her nightgown. It was most likely already disposed of by the servants, luckily. Eira moved slowly, still feeling very much tired, too tired to her liking. The servants around her quickly helped her to get ready, dressing her in a new gown and styling her hair in a simple braid. Eira was barely able to keep her eyes open during that, almost falling asleep while fingers were threading through her hair. It was a feeling she welcomed.

After being readied for the day that was to come, Eira was led to the dining hall. Mostly it was her feet carrying her, practically dragging her across the path. Eira couldn´t give less a fuck about etiquette currently, her posture slouching instead of straightening. Her eyes were narrowed with the lack of sleep, threatening to fall shut with each step she took. The doors were opened to the dining room, the scent of food filling her nostrils.

It almost made her stomach grumble from craving, yearning to be filled with sustenance. Upon entering, her gaze landed on the breakfast table, already filled with different plates of food. She sighed softly, content with the sight. What she did notice was the absence of Estrid, only her uncle sitting at the head of the table. He hadn´t touched any of the cookery, though, probably waiting for others to arrive. He heard her footsteps gaze landing on her tired form. "Hello, princess," he greeted with a slight smile pulling at his lips, attempting to appear as friendly.

"Morning," she replied groggily, her sense of etiquette clearly thrown out the dumpster for now. "Estrid hasn´t arrived yet?" she asked, sitting down next to the blonde who was staring intently at her. "Seems like she hasn´t," he replied shortly. It confused her, for Eira was probably late herself, always the last to arrive at the breakfast table. That was due to her not being a morning person. Figures.

She supposed it wasn´t out of the blue, though. Yesterday was a rough day for Estrid, hence why she probably slept in. That was her assumption.

She hummed in reply, covering her mouth before she yawned. Canute noticed, turning to her, rather than his plate. "How are you?" he spoke up, attempting to make small talk with the grumpy princess. Not exactly a smart idea, based on how she reacted. "Is it truly in your interest to know or is it your courtesy speaking?" Bold, he had to give her that. The response caught him off guard since he was accustomed to people only being polite to him. Her bluntness was something he cherished about her, but he still had to get used to, it nonetheless.

"Both, perhaps." he bit down the urge to smile, amused by her brass antics. Eira hummed, stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of scrambled eggs. "I feel tired, truth be told," she reluctantly answered, her gaze glued to the silverware she retracted from her mouth. "Stayed up late?" Eira nodded, glancing at him to notice Canute already staring at her.

"A bad habit of mine, I suppose." He let out a breathy chuckle at that, surprising Eira no less. When did she ever see him in such a light mood?

It became quiet after that, the only sounds filling the silence were the occasional munches from the two of them. Eira wasn´t sure why, most likely because of the unease she felt from the silence, she sparked up a conversation. "How was the travel? You´ve been gone for a long span of time." It surprised him and her too, those words leaving Eira´s mouth.

After gulping down some of the scrambled eggs himself, Canute wiped away the crumbles left on his mouth, folding the napkin beside his plate again. "It was quite alright. Nothing too interesting, truth be told. The journey itself was not very pleasant, though." She snickered, receiving a glance from him. "You get seasick?" humor was laced in her tone, the corner of her lips twitching upward into a smirk. He narrowed his eyes at her. "No, I don´t. What I meant was that the travel by boat was dull, stale if you will. If the only thing you see for several is the sea, I presume you´d get bored quickly."

"Didn´t mean to offend you," she mumbled with a peeved expression, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at him. "No offense taken." When glancing up at him through her eyelashes, she saw his amused face, annoying her to no end. His lips were pulled into a smirk, glancing down at her with an expression only able to be described as gloating. She wrinkled her nose, stuffing another spoonful portion of eggs into her mouth. Canute sat more upright now, straightening his posture while gazing at her. "What may be of interest to you, is the fact that I have been attacked by one of Ketil´s sons."

Eira´s eyes widened, any sign of annoyance vanishing from her face when she turned to him, lips slightly parting. "Really?" she breathed out, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. Well, her reaction was... interesting. Almost seemed as if she was content with the fact, or perhaps it was just her excitement for action. Canute didn´t know how to feel about that.

"Yes, he advanced from behind, therefore I didn´t notice," he replied warily with an arched brow. Eira rested her face on her palm, elbow pressed against the table surface while she stared at him with keen eyes. "Did he have a weapon?" She received a nod, Canute sighing as the memory replayed in his head. "He attacked with a sword. We fought for a short moment before Wulf stepped in, hence why he lost an eye."

Eira frowned, her mind drifting off to the image of him. The mere thought of him physically pained her. "That explains things." Eira let go of her spoon, the silverware clattering against the porcelain of her plate. Her brows raised, lips pressing into a tight line to refrain from laughing. "I´m surprised you were able to stand your ground, didn´t figure you as a skilled swordsman."

Canute parted his lips, staring dumbfoundedly. His face was blank, surprised by her remark. "What makes you think that?"

With a snort, she replied," I´ve seen you train a few times and noticed you rely more on ploys and ruses, instead of actual skills with steel." He pondered over her words, watching the smirk form on her face. He supposed her words did hold some truth to them, hence why he gave Eira a defeated look. "To your surprise, I was quite capable." his reply made her shake her head, eyes rolling in feigned annoyance. Eira was rather amused.

"Ketil´s son might just have had a bad day, you´d never know," she replied with a tone of nonchalance, raising her gaze to give her statement more strength. Canute chuckled, resting his chin on his palm in a similar manner to her. "Sure, but don´t forget that he gouged out Wulf´s eye. Are you trying to say he´s not skilled?" Eira crossed her arms over her chest, huffing at his words. "No," she stammered while speaking, "I´m not."

He smiled at her, gaze locked onto her eyes. Eira suddenly felt heat rising to her cheeks, embarrassed by her stammering. She pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze and staring at the jar of orange juice instead. Canute noticed her sheepish demeanor, smirking before sipping out of his goblet. The sweet liquid went down his throat after gulping, quenching his thirst. An idea crossed his mind, one which he voiced aloud.

"If you haven´t anything planned for today, I´d like for you to accompany me to greet our guests. Right, several noble houses came from all around Denmark to attend the upcoming coronation, one she didn´t feel too keen on. Conversing with nobles wasn´t quite her cup of tea, idle chatter in general wasn´t exciting for her to begin with. It was weird enough for her to talk so freely with her uncle at the breakfast table.

Nose wrinkling, she shook her head. "I´d rather not, that´s more of Estrid´s thing." Making up an excuse was just as stupid, she didn´t see any point in lying. Therefore she spoke her mind, outright declining his invitation.

"Well, Estrid is in a... foul mood." I wonder why, she thought ironically. Being stuck in a betrothal with someone one didn´t fancy would definitely ruin someone´s day, wouldn´t it?

Eira glanced at him, a question nagging at her mind. Why did he choose to betroth Estrid to Wulf? She wasn´t sure if Estrid voiced her discomfort at the arrangement out-loud to him, but surely he must have noticed? "May I ask," she furrowed her brows, confused by the situation," Why did you betroth Estrid to Wulf?" Canute glanced at her, sighing. He was biting the inside of his cheek, hesitating to answer. "Estrid has been of age for a few years now and sooner or later she´d have to be wed. Betrothing her to Wulf at least keeps her at least at our side, at court. And I do trust him enough to treat her well." He didn´t lie, but that was only half of the truth, wasn´t it?

Pursing her lips, she slowly nodded. "I can imagine she didn´t tell you, but she´s not very content with the arrangement." Canute winced, eyes darting off to the table in front of him. "She didn´t, but it was obvious enough to notice," he replied, eyes narrowing at the thought of hurting his own sister.

Of course, Canute didn´t know of Adalgund. He wasn´t at court when they met and therefore wasn´t aware of Estrid already having a suitor in mind. Why she didn´t choose to tell him? Eira wasn´t sure, but supposed it wouldn´t have changed anything. Being wed to Adalgund meant she´d move away from court. It was a horrible thought, indeed. A delicate girl like her would have a hard time alone in such a foreign place. By being Wulf´s lady wife, she´d stay here, at home. It was a thought that put Eira´s mind at ease, despite the complications the arrangement brought with it. But that didn´t really matter, for she cared much more for her fiend Estrid than for the man named Wulf. "At least you believe it´s what´s best for her," Eira replied after a while, her expression pensive.

Canute nodded absentmindedly, seemingly in thought. It turned quiet after that, an uncomfortable silence enveloping the atmosphere. Eira cleared her throat, speaking up, "Then I suppose I have no choice but to accept, do I?" she raised a brow at him at the man beside her. Canute shut his eyes, humming to himself before facing her again, a determined glint shining in his eyes. "If you accept, I´d buy you a copy from the tale of Genji, as a thanks for your aid." Eira lit up upon hearing his words, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

The Tale of Genji is one of the first novels ever written. A work of fiction, regarding Japanese aristocracy in the Heian period. A title she didn´t have in her possession for its hefty price and hard way of getting one´s hands on it, its origin from a vastly different continent. Her insides screamed at the mention of the book, goosebumps littering across her skin. When Eira noticed his pleased expression, her brow twitched. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

"... Is it working?" She gave him a blank stare.

"...Yes."

He smirked at her words, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment while crossing her leg over her thigh. "I want the book as soon as possible," she turned to stare at him with a stern expression, turning serious. He nodded, smirking and eyes full of self-satisfaction since he had found a way to spend more time with her, a time in which she could grow more comfortable around him. "Your wish is my command." Eira hummed, pleased to have done a great negotiation with him.

Their chatter made her rid of any exhaustion and she didn´t feel the need to yawn anymore. The biggest for that was the excitement, the joyous anticipation she felt when thinking of the novel she´d soon be able to hold in her palm. Such a generous offer in exchange for one tiresome afternoon, how great!

Eira grabbed a napkin to wipe leftovers from her face, letting it fall onto her plate when finished. "It was an honor to do business with you," she said while curtsying, "But I must attend my history lesson, Your Majesty." It was the first time she addressed him with decorum, which amused him. Canute nodded, waving a hand at her. "Go on, I´ll see you afterwards."

Watching her retreating figure, he motioned for a servant to come close. "Make sure to fetch the Princess Estrid a plate and tell Ser Gunnar to order a copy of the tale of Genji." His stoic demeanor returned, now that Eira present anymore.

------

After the history lesson had ended, Eira opened the doors, leading to the hallway, to find Canute already waiting outside for her. Eager, huh? So there was no way at all for her to slip away unnoticed, wasting some time before eventually meeting up with her uncle. Canute made sure that it wouldn´t happen, hence why he stood in the hallway, waiting for her.

But Eira didn´t dare complain, after all, she was promised a reward for her aid. Not only that but being busy was a way to distract herself from Wulf, which she also gladly welcomed.

Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him standing in front of her, her brows raising. "Oh, Your Majesty. I didn´t expect you to wait for me." He quirked a brow, smirking slightly before replying, "And let you run from our agreement?" Eira shook her head, rolling her eyes while rearranging the books in her arms. He glanced at them, inspecting the titles before he reached out for them. "Let me help you, they look heavy." Eira let him get hold of half of the books, too obstinate to let him carry the entire pile.

"I´ll have to drop them off at my chambers first," she spoke matter-of-factly, to which he nodded, following her quick steps leading to the said rooms. The guard standing in the hallway seemed surprised upon seeing the two together, freezing for a moment before regaining composure. "Your Majesty, Your Highness," he addressed while bowing, keeping his gaze on the floor while the two passed.

It didn´t take long. Eira quickly opened the doors to her chamber, taking hold of the books in Canute´s grip before placing them onto the surface of her desk. After that, she stepped back outside and shut the pair of doors, facing Canute again. "All done." She spoke with little to no excitement, a bored look on her face when she joined his side, footsteps echoing through the hallway. "Let us go then."

Her eyes landed on Estrid´s door as they passed and made a mental note to check up on her later on. Other than that, she kept being in sync with her uncle´s steps and matching his pace. They walked towards the grand hall of the castle, the stroll dragging out, for some reason. "How many have arrived?" she inquired with dread laced in her tone. She didn´t want to go through an afternoon, spending her time speaking with dozens of people who practically threw themselves at the princess for her attention. But she guessed her uncle had it worse, being the one who´d be crowned in a few days.

"I believe not so many, most will arrive a day or two before the ceremony." Eira let out a hum in reply, bracing herself for the amount of people who would talk her ear off. Automatically, she facepalmed at the thought which gained her uncle´s attention. "Are you alright?" Shaking her head, she glanced up to meet his eye. "I don´t enjoy social gatherings that much." Which was a drag considering how often she´d have to attend one as a member of the royal family.

"Ah, I see. You´ll have to get used to it eventually," he replied in a calm tone, not affected at all by the upcoming ´event´. Eira merely rolled her eyes, groaning at him, "Yes, thank you very much. I wasn´t aware of that, yet." Her ironic tone didn´t go unnoticed but received an amused raise of his brow. "You´re welcome." She gave him a death stare, irked by his antics. She didn´t know why, but he always seemed to be diverted by her abrasive nature, hence why he continued to goad her to get a rise out of the princess. It was enough to annoy her to no end, which led to bickering between them. But she did prefer that to his usual stoic and cold demeanor, she surmised.

Guards opened the doors for them, announcing their presence to the guests inside the hall. Eira´s heart rate began to pick up and her hands trembled when all eyes landed on her and Canute. Nervously, she glanced at him for help, but the first pair of nobles practically came running towards them. Eager faces meet theirs, grinning and bowing excitedly in front of the pair. Eira fiddled with the fabric of her skirt to handle her rising anxiety.

"Your Majesty, how wonderful to see you look so well!" a frantic lady called out to him, curtsying as well. If Eira thought of ´too much decorum´, this person would come to her mind. Her gaze then drifted over to the princess beside him, her eery smile widening. It was enough to creep Eira out and she couldn´t wish any more to leave this hall. "Oh, the last time I´ve been at court your Highness was a mere child! Now you´re woman grown and beautiful at that, too." Her words should flatter one, but Eira felt disturbed by the woman. Nonetheless, she gifted her a strained smile, feeling the skin around her lips stretch uncomfortably.

"I´ve heard you are yet unwed, Your Highness. Any suitor in mind already?" the man next to them spoke up, his demeanor equally weird as the woman she presumed to be his lady wife. How could that man so easily ask such a question that invaded her privacy by miles? That was the exact reason why Eira hated social gatherings; people were mad!

Canute noticed her discomfort, clearing his throat. "I don´t believe that question is relevant now," he remarked with a stern expression, "How was the journey to Jelling?" His question served as a distraction, picking up a new topic to discuss. She was glad, for answering that question would´ve caused her greater discomfort than she already felt. Eira wasn´t exactly interested in how they traveled to court, which is why she zoned out for the rest of the conversation. It was long enough for her not to notice new guests standing in front of her.

"Don´t mind me, I´ll get something to drink," she muttered, excusing herself before slipping from Canute´s sight. He glanced warily after her before focusing on the person in front of him again. Eira on the other hand walked towards a servant who was walking through the hall with a silver plate filled with goblets of wine. She reached for one, gulping its content down immediately, to which the servant widened his eyes. Eira needed the alcohol to intoxicate her senses to be more social, or else her anxiety wouldn´t vanish.

Not only that but she tended to down several cups in a mere night, hence why she let the servant refill her cup quickly. "Thank you," she mumbled into the goblet, taking another sip of the red liquor before she felt a person halt beside her. "Hello, Your Highness," a male voice called out, alarming her to turn around. Her face met the one of a man around your age. His face was chiseled with striking blue eyes and dark curls draped around, his lips pulled into a lopsided grin.

Eira stared at him with a raised brow, unfazed by his appearance. To her, he seemed like a typical gallant man who seduced every woman his eyes could land on. "Hello," she replied curtly, barely glancing at him, choosing to stare at the liquid inside her cup instead. "I´m Ser-" he began before Eira interrupted him with the click of her tongue. "I´m not interested, thank you." Instead of watching his reaction, she gulped down the rest of her cup, smearing the few drops of wine from her lips with the back of her hand before motioning for the servant to fill it.

The man stared dumbfoundedly, bewildered by her indecorous demeanor. The princess refused to spare him another glance, walking away from him and towards her uncle instead, joining his side. The blonde watched her with an unreadable expression, his gaze focusing on the rosy tint of her cheeks. He then glanced at the cup in her hand, leaning in to whisper, "How many refills did you have?" Eira rolled her eyes at him, dismissing his concern with a wave of her hand. "It's only my third cup," she replied with a twinge of nonchalance.

"You do know that´s a lot in such a short time, don´t you?" Eira pursed her lips at the rhetorical question, puffing out her breath in annoyance. When he didn´t stop staring at her, she exclaimed, "Can´t deal with cunts soberly," before darting her eyes off to the side. He bit on his tongue, the hint of a smile gracing his lips when hearing her crass words.

Her eyes slightly widened when realizing what she said, her lips pressing into a tight line. Eira should try to watch her loose tongue around him, for talking to a king like that doesn´t get one very far. "Er- sorry." she bowed as a sign of apology, the rose tint of her cheeks turning red from embarrassment. Canute merely chuckled at the display. "It´s quite alright, you needn´t worry." Was it the alcohol loosening her tongue this much or was she feeling relaxed enough to allow herself to speak like this around her uncle?

She didn´t give the thought much focus, instead letting it drown in another sip of her cup. "Do you also want one?" The blonde beside her nodded, glancing at a lord approaching them. Eira motioned for a servant to come to them, grabbing a cup from the plate and handing it to her uncle. He thanked her for it, taking hold of the item. His fingers brushed against hers for a moment, their skin coming in contact. Eira didn´t seem to mind, only letting go of the cup when he had it in a tight grip.

Reluctantly, Eira paid attention to the approaching guests, smiling at them without feeling the painful stretch of the forced motion, the movement feeling much more natural now. Her intoxicated state also helped with her thoughts not drifting away, or landing on a certain captain of thegns. She felt great, completely different from her mood yesterday. It was sort of freeing to stop overthinking everything that took place and instead, just focus on what was in front of her. One of the many reasons why she was so fond of wine.

As anticipated, it came with ease to converse, a vast difference to from before. Time flew by without taking notice of it, hours passing until it was well into the evening. It was late enough to finally slip away from attention, Canute agreed on that.

The two royals bid their goodbyes to the guests and Eira plastered on a fake smile for a last time before exiting the hall. As soon as the doors were shut behind them, she let out a loud groan. "You definitely owe me that book."

Chapter Text

"I did promise you to get you that novel, yes." Canute stared at Eira, who grinned in reply. "Good because the afternoon was torture for me." Walking through the hallway with him in tow, Eira hummed to herself in boredom. "I can imagine," he added with mirth, glancing down at her form. Eira crossed her arms over her chest, chuckling at his words. "Do you? Based on what I´ve seen you were handling yourself quite exceptionally," she highlighted her words by rolling her eyes.

Smirkingly, he watched her from the corner of his eye." It sounds to me like you might be envious." Eira had a baffled look on her face, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, along with parted lips through which she let out a humorless laugh. "Pff- The only thing I might envy you for is your cock." When she received a bewildered stare from him, she stammered, realizing the suggestive undertone her words held. She began to wave her hands around in a hectic manner as she tried to explain, "Because it´s what made you heir to the Danish crown, after all!" She shut her eyes, pinching her nose. She felt her cheeks heat up, unable to look him in the eye.

"You envy me because of the crown I´m soon to wear?" his voice got quieter as he glanced at her. Eira regained composure, chest heaving before sighing. Her demeanor turned more serious, her eyes narrowing as they began to walk outside the castle, their feet carrying them through the gardens and the only source of light coming from the fire torches hung on walls. If under any other circumstance, Eira would never open up to him like that, but the amount of liquor she indulged in the afternoon made her rid of her inner filter, nor did she think that clearly. That was the reason in the first place for making her blurt such things out without rethinking them.

Therefore she took a deep breath, glancing at the pebbles underneath her feet while walking. "Can´t believe I´m telling you this but yes, I do. I envy you for receiving my father´s throne." Eira´s words were like a bucket of ice-cold water emptied over her head, sobering her up quickly enough. Canute stared at her, perplexed, to say the least. He surmised it did make sense now why she was so hostile towards him from the start, despite her abrasive nature. His gaze was locked onto hers, intent eyes meeting her unsure ones. Crunches from stepping onto pebbles filled the air between them, silence enveloping the pair.

"...Why?" he didn´t know what to say instead, so he settled on the easiest question for him to ask. Canute didn´t know how to feel. Relief because she finally confided in him? He wasn´t even sure how to react to the information she dumped on him, but at least he knew how she felt.

"I-" her lip quivered, overwhelmed by the emotions that were beginning to consume her. Eira never truly voiced those thoughts out loud. So the first time being it with him did feel weird to her. Bringing those thoughts back out to the surface didn´t do her any good, already feeling upset enough with the whole ordeal with Wulf.

"It´s just that… I was raised to be my father´s heir. I grew up believing to follow in his footsteps and always tried my best to make him proud," she paused," because I wanted to be good enough." Eira let out a shaky breath, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "In the end, I wasn´t," she muttered under her breath, a tear trailing down her cheek. It made Canute hesitate, not knowing how to comfort her. He was indirectly the reason for her suffering, after all. He furrowed his brows, lips parted as he thought over what to do.

Eira mentally facepalmed, ashamed to cry in front of him. "Eh- sorry, don´t know what´s wrong with me." She wiped away the tears, sniffling a bit. It was hard for her, never having acted this way before. Was there ever a time in her life in which she cried so frequently? She surmised it was because of the recent things that happened, making her life a bit harder to deal with, especially her emotions. It was all just too much to handle at once for her.

It just felt… bizarre. As if not herself anymore, but a person completely changed. She felt weak and humiliated by displaying her feelings so openly. It made her uncomfortable in her skin, the urge to scratch it from her flesh suddenly so intense. Her eyelids felt heavy and her wet eyelashes blurred her vision.

"You needn´t apologize for that, it´s human to show emotions," Canute replied in a soft tone, his eyes shining through the dim light with concern. His stare was making her uncomfortable, leading to her avoiding his gaze. Eira halted in her step, which Canute quickly mirrored, watching what she did. The princess went off the pathway, stepping through the grass before sitting down, flattening the areas beneath her. Slowly, he sat beside her, watching how she rested her chin on her knees, hugging herself. He felt a weird twinge pulling at his chest upon seeing her brooding. It bothered him, not knowing what to make of that.

Perhaps revealing some of his own thoughts might ease her mind, making it easier for her to confide in him if there was a mutual understanding of trust between them."I believe I can relate to that feeling somewhat," he admitted, his voice almost as quiet as a whisper. The revelation made her head turn, staring at him with glossy eyes. "What do you mean by that?" He ran his hand through the grass, tugging at strands. "When my father was the English king, he tried to dispose of me. Your father was king of Denmark at the time and that´s why he had no use for me. An assassination was planned to annihilate me, too." He let out a desperate, deranged chuckle after saying that. It made Eira´s eyes widen in horror, immediately feeling bad.

What happened to her wasn´t nearly as horrifying as what he went through, and the fact he tried to soothe her with that when he was the one who should seek out comfort was maddening to her. A gasp made her part her lips. "That´s horrible, I- what kind of father tries to eradicate his own son?" she was startled enough to be distracted from her previous crying, which made a wave of relief wash over Canute.

She shut her eyes, blinking a few times while frowning at him. Seeing his calm state made her more upset, sorrow filling her. "Gods- sorry, I... I can´t imagine how that must´ve felt to you. You´ve truly gone through so much, haven´t you?" her stammering didn´t stop. She kept fumbling over her words, not knowing how to or what sentences to form. What could one say in such a situation to make the other party feel better?

There´s no need for sympathy, I deserve it.

He shuffled in his position, gazing into the starry night above them. The moon illuminated their faces, revealing their pensive expressions. She turned to face him, glancing at his face while chewing on her bottom lip, her brows furrowing anxiously. "I haven´t given it much thought this way," he replied eventually, his expression still blank. He never realized how much his father had scarred him. Nor did he ever experience heartfelt empathy directed at him regarding such a thing. Never had he met a person who could remotely relate to him, remotely understand why he was the way he was.

He had accepted the fact that he was destined to be alone in this world,
"You said it´s human to show emotions," she reminded him," You don´t have to keep all of those pent-up feelings inside, you know? But Eira did exactly that. What hypocrite, those words leaving her lips when she should try exactly that?

"I´m not sure of what to feel," he admitted, turning around to face her again. His eyes were narrowed, seemingly tired. Not physically, but mentally. Eira quickly took notice of that because she knew that expression best herself.

Regret was what she currently felt the strongest. Regret because of painting him a villain without considering his own dilemma, without thinking about the internal battles he fought. How could she perceive him as vicious when he was so similar to her? When she knew best how disgusted with himself he´d feel right now. She felt anger rising in her chest, angered by herself for having misjudged his character.

They stared into each other´s eyes, glinting with sorrow. Her breath hitched, shaking from the overwhelming melancholy that invaded her senses. In some way, she also feel relieved, knowing she wasn´t the only one to feel like this, the thought of mental isolation slowly fading away from itself.

Canute felt utter discomfort at being this vulnerable. It was a foreign feeling he had. Trust wasn´t something he felt for people and therefore kept to himself, his thoughts slowly eating his insides. Never had he talked even remotely about what was going through his head, other than sometimes talking to the illusion of his late father. But that never made him feel better, only the imagination, the idea of having someone to confide in, someone who was incapable of betraying him, made him see his father daily. Otherwise, he truly would´ve gone mad.

So that meant for him to sit here, and speak to his niece about his troubles was truly peculiar. Of course, he could have blamed it on the fact of wanting to make her feel safe around him, but that alone wouldn´t have gotten him to tell her the worst trauma he lived through. That man scarred him to the point he continued to torment him in death.

Footsteps suddenly emerged, catching the pair off guard. Simultaneously, they turned their heads to see a guard approaching in the dim light. "Your Majesty, You Highness, dinner will be served now." Canute nodded, his expression now void of any emotion as he stared at the man bowing in front of them, turning around to lead the way towards the castle. Canute was the first to stand up, extracting a hand for her to take. Eira glanced up at him, her gaze darting off to the side before she took his hand, their sin making contact as she was raised to her feet.

She let go of his hand, folding her hands in front of her skirt while walking next to him. "I apologize for telling you all of that, Your Majesty," she fidgeted, digging her nails into her skin until she felt a burning sensation," I didn´t wish to trouble you."

Canute glanced at her, his cold eyes gaining a soft hue. as they walked several feet behind the guard, out of his earshot. "There´s no need to be so formal around me. Refer to me as Canute when in private." His words made her look up to him, her eyes widening a bit. Eira parted her lips, hesitating, "Alright, Canute." The name had a foreign taste rolling off her tongue, one which made her furrow her brows slightly.

The way she spoke his name sparked up satisfaction in his chest, a feeling he couldn´t describe overwhelming him. The two kept quiet after that, a comfortable silence filling them. When reaching the dining room and finding no Estrid in sight, Eira let out a sigh. Canute took notice of her reaction, glancing at the empty seat himself. "She´ll get over it eventually," he assured her, before taking a seat at the head of the table. Eira followed in tow, a servant pushing out the chair for her. "I will pay her a visit after dinner, but I believe you should try and talk to her about the betrothal."

Canute met her serious gaze, looking into her eyes before reluctantly giving her a defeated look. "Perhaps you´re right."

---------

Eira stood outside Estrid´s chambers, hesitating before knocking on the set of doors. The doors were opened immediately after, revealing the blonde princess she sought out for. "Hello," she greeted timidly before being pulled into a tight embrace by her visitor, yelping in surprise. "Have you left your quarters at all today?" Eira asked with concern laced in her tone, keeping her tight grip around her figure.

Estrid relaxed at her touch, slowly wrapping her arms around her friend. Being greeted with such an intense hug was a rarity, coming from Eira, therefore the blonde relished the moment as much as she could. "No, I haven´t," she replied sheepishly, squeezing the girl in her arms before Eira let go, loosening her hold on her. "Have you eaten at least?"

The blonde nodded, grabbing her friend by her sleeve before pulling her inside the room, and shutting the doors behind her. Upon entering, Eira´s gaze drifted around the room before her eyes landed on a letter, lying on the desk beside her bed. Squinting her eyes, she tried to make out the addressee. "Have written to Adalgund already?" Her words made the blonde turn around, her gaze falling onto the letter as well. "Yes, but I forgot to send it off today, I´ll have to wait until tomorrow." Eira hummed at her words, approaching the bed before plopping down on it, the soft mattress beneath her bouncing at the contact.

"Do you feel any better?" Eira watched her expectantly, patting the cushion beside her for Estrid to join. She did so without hesitation, resting her head in her friend´s lap. Staring at the ceiling of her chambers, she blew out a puff of air. "I do feel better than yesterday, yes. Although I still feel miserable," she answered truthfully, to which Eira began to pet her hair, fingers threading into her blonde strands. "I´m not sure if that makes you feel at ease, but think of it that way," Eira paused, "This way you can stay at home, otherwise you would´ve had to move far away."

Estrid pressed her lips into a tight line, narrowing her eyes tiredly. "I suppose you´re right." Her tone was filled with anguish, making the princess sigh. "Why didn´t you tell your brother how you feel?" The blonde curled herself into a ball, her legs bent and arms hugged around her. Her hair was sprawled across Eira´s lap, receiving caresses to soothe her. "I didn´t want him to feel bad. He did it out of concern for me, thinking it´s what´s best for me." Her words made Eira groan, frustrated with her sense of empathy towards others.

It was a beautiful trait but it clearly corrupted her, choosing to suffer just to appease others. Estrid was too selfless, never thinking of herself but of others instead. "So you choose to suffer in silence?" Estrid shut her eyes, dodging the question thrown at her. "Canute is only looking out for me, in some way he is right, too." Eira pursed her lips, furrowing her brows in frustration. There was no way for her to change Estrid´s view on it, for it was part of her personality.

"If you say so," she muttered in reply, mindlessly running her fingers through her long hair. Neither spoke, silence filling the room instead. After a pregnant pause, Estrid propped herself up on her elbow, facing her friend who stared anticipatingly at her. Under further inspection, she noticed the rosy hue on her cheeks, her brow arching upon noticing. "Are you intoxicated?" Sheepish, Eira, pushed her face away from herself, furrowing her brows while avoiding her gaze. "What makes you believe that?"

A grin pulled at her lips, having found her answer based on the girl´s reaction. She let out a chuckle, amused by her demeanor. "I know you well enough to tell." Eira´s gaze softened at the sound of her laughter, her heart practically swelling from seeing her friend return to her gleeful self, even if it was at her dispense.

Eira then proceeded to roll her eyes at her in a joking manner, feigning annoyance. "For your information, I had to spend an entire afternoon greeting guests, thanks to your absence." She highlighted her words by poking at her shoulder, groaning at the memory. Estrid snickered, sprawling herself out on the mattress while keeping her gaze on her friend. "So that´s the reason for your intoxication?"A nod followed her words, which made her hum.

Estrid turned quiet, lost in thought all of a sudden. When Eira shot her a confused glance, she spoke up," Do you believe Adalgund will attend the coronation?" she parted her lips, adding," Because of his father´s critical condition, I mean." In reply, Eira reached for her hand, squeezing it softly. "Yes, I don´t see why he shouldn´t. He´s his father´s representative, after all." The blonde sighed, relieved at hearing her reassuring words.

"What do you plan on doing?" Estrid puffed out her lower lip in a pout, a distressed look on her face. "I´m not sure. Perhaps I´ll wait to tell him in person, rather than sending the letter I wrote…" Eira also propped herself up on her elbow, facing her while lying on her side. "You will see him in a few days either way." Estrid´s eyes fluttered shut, relaxation taking over her body. Eira felt a smirk pulling at the side of her lips at seeing her like that. "What have you been doing anyway besides sleeping today?"

"Nothing else, really." her eyes were still shut, her serious answer making the girl beside her erupt into laughter, her body trembling with the motion. "I will never cease to be surprised by your ability to sleep through the entire day," she replied with in-between chuckles, her mind clouding with the memory of greeting Adalgund because of Estrid´s absence, similar to today.

Estrid grinned in reply, eyes glinting with mirth. The princess beside her let out a yawn, covering her mouth with her palm. Her expression seemed exhausted, caused by the lack of sleep and the events of today. How she was able to withstand the afternoon with only a few hours of sleep remained a mystery to her. "You can go to sleep if you´re tired, you´re aware of that, right?"

Eira shut her eyes, nodding sluggishly. "I don´t want to leave you alone, though." The blonde smiled, reassuringly squeezing her hand. "I´ll live, no need for worry." At this, Eira arched a brow, staring at the girl which broke out into a fit of giggles. It was truly comforting to hear her so joyously, especially when it came with ease to make her smile. "Alright, I´ll leave you then," she announced, sitting upright on the soft mattress before rising to her feet. "Promise me you´ll leave your chambers for once tomorrow," the princess pleaded, staring at her with softened eyes.

"Of course, I promise." Estrid wrapped her arms around her, sighing into the hug before she let go of her. "Sleep well," she muttered softly, receiving a nod from the departing girl. "You too, see you in the morning. And you better be present at the breakfast table." Eira shot her a warning glare, turning around to open the set of doors, and slipping outside the princesses´ chambers.

"Yes, I promise," she swatted her arm around in a dismissive manner, a grin pulling at her lips before the doors were shut.

While Eira had retreated to her chambers, Canute sat by his own in his study. The looming darkness from outside enveloped the eery atmosphere, the only sources of light coming from the moon, shining through his window, and the few candles resting on his desk, the wax running down and spilling onto the wooden surface. The desk was littered with several scrolls, opened and inspected by him. A feather was held in his hand, almost breaking from the intense grip he had on it. The ink from its tip was mindlessly dripping onto the scroll in front of him, his hand frozen in place mere inches above the paper.

"You ignorant fool," a voice called out to him, emerging from the illusion beside his window sill. Canute faced him with half-lidded eyes, exhaustion taking over his face. His breath was low and so was his patience for the dead man inside the room. "What do you want?" His words earned a fit of laughter from the head of Sweyn, his wrinkles deepening from the motion. Canute sighed, mentally preparing himself to listen to his inner voice of hatred, manifested into the illusion beside him.

"I knew you were a fool to tell a lowly man of your plans, but confiding in your niece, a mere girl?" he barked a laugh, eyes shutting in glee before he stared at the blonde again. "You´ve become soft, my son. I thought you were fit to rule, but your stay in Denmark has changed you." Canute grunted, furrowing his brows at the words his father spoke. "I only did that to build a connection between us. One that will make her trust me," he told more himself than the illusion, attempting to convince himself more than the dead man.

Sweyn cackled, baring his rotten teeth beneath his dried lips. "You can´t deceive me, son. I can see right through you. I know of all your thoughts, even those kept away in your subconsciousness," the man spat with venom, glaring at the blonde beside him. "The relief you felt after you spoke with her, it helped ease your mind more than hers, didn´t it?" He chuckled," Letting all of your emotions out, huh? Don´t tell me you´ve fallen for the girl." Canute held a hand to his forehead, feeling how he began to heat up from the stress.

"I´m disappointed in you, letting feelings get the better of you. Your niece is no good influence." his tone sharpened as if thrusting steel inside his son´s chest verbally. Canute´s knuckles whitened, balling his fists as hard as he could. The father in his palm broke from the motion, eliciting a cracking sound.

"You know nothing of me," he spoke up, his voice as tense as he felt. His words received a chuckle from the man, grinning with mirth. "I am you. A part of you, merely manifested into a person of your choosing." to put more emphasis on his words, the illusion suddenly changed into the appearance of his former brother. It made Canute´s eyes widen, his breath turning shaky from the sight. His gaze met the saddened expression of the brown-haired male, his head hung low. "Why?" the word was enough to let a tear trail down his cheek, horrified by the sight.

Canute covered his face with his palm as if shielding himself from seeing his brother. Shame filled his gut, tears wetting the calloused skin of his hand. "I-" he stammered, panting from the mental torture he made himself go through. "I... have to." his excuse was miserable, miserable enough for his body to start trembling. "I have to," he repeated, gulping down the saliva that was produced inside his mouth. Canute didn´t notice, but the illusion that was beside him mere seconds ago had vanished, leaving him alone again. Alone, something familiar to him, for he never experienced any sort of comradeship.

Sobs filled the room, coming right from himself. He didn´t know how long he continued to sit in the chair, shaking from the experience he went through, his body almost going slack. His gaze focused on the blotch of ink formed in the middle of the scroll, the material damp and easy to rip into shreds. He did exactly that, letting out his frustrations and throwing the shreds around the room, falling onto the floor. His long eyelashes were stuck together from the tears shimmering in his eyes, his vision blurred from it.

What he did know was that he eventually fell asleep in that uncomfortable position, not waking up until in the morning with ink staining his palm.

--------

Estrid did seem to stay true to her promise and went to the dining hall in the morning, surprisingly being the first to have arrived. Therefore she waited, staring at her plate before the doors opened, revealing her brother. She smiled at him, one that didn´t seem forced. It almost made him sigh with relief to see her in a better mood. "Estrid, I´m glad to see you look so well," he greeted with a blank expression, his stoic nature resurfacing.

"You too, I suppose," she glanced after him, watching him sit down on his usual seat beside her. His mind drifted off to Eira´s words from the previous night, advising him to speak with Estrid again. He pondered, sighing before he reluctantly spoke up, " I wanted to apologize to you for not considering your feelings with the betrothal." He wasn´t sure why Eira´s words mattered to him, why he took her advice for granted. He knew that if he didn´t, her voice would swirl around his head for hours on end.

Estrid gave him a surprised look, eyebrows raising and eyes widening. It wasn´t usual for him to apologize for anything, hence her stunned expression.

He noticed her expression and therefore continued," Eira told me you were quite upset which is why I wanted to apologize thoroughly." Estrid´s lips parted, her eyes glinting with concern. "I hope she wasn´t harsh with her words, she tends to be like that," she replied tensely.

"No, not at all. We were conversing about the matter yesterday and she advised me to speak to you." That doesn´t sound like Eira at all... The princess Eira who normally had been hostile towards her uncle? To put it lightly, Estrid was confused but nodded nonetheless. "Oh alright." Canute hummed, his eyes trailing over the empty plate in front of him. "I do hope you understand my reasoning for the betrothal. I didn´t wish to hurt you in any way, dear sister." his tone was distant but his eyes were filled with a twinge of warmth and... regret? Estrid couldn´t quite place it.

"Yes, I know. You needn´t worry." she took hold of his hand, squeezing it softly while smiling at him. Estrid truly couldn´t be upset for more than a day. It didn´t lie in her nature, at all. As much as that was truly bad for her own consciousness.

The sound of doors opening interrupted their conversation, through which Eira strolled inside, dressed in training attire. "Morning, I apologize for arriving late," she mumbled drowsily, her shoulders slumped together. She had a pained expression, her brows furrowed in agony. "I assume you overslept?" Canute´s voice held an undertone of mirth, the corner of his lips slightly twitching up upon seeing her, but his eyes were filled with sorrow, thinking back to yesterday night´s events. She nodded, holding a hand to her forehead as she sat down beside him. "I have a terrible headache," she whined, eyes squinting.

"I wonder why." he shot her a knowing glance, eyes darting to a cup placed beside her. She groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "I have no patience for your jests, uncle." her grumpy mood elicited a slight smile on his face, although he didn´t feel as amused by her antics today, his thoughts were still filled with the conversation he held with himself at night. Estrid´s gaze switched between them, a confused expression settling on her face. When did those two grow so close? Perhaps she missed something in her absence yesterday?

She took a bite out of an apple, observing their bickering. Despite being confused, she did seem pleased at them getting along with one another now. She preferred it leagues over Eira´s bitterness towards him and Canute´s indifference. It didn´t slip her attention the way her brother smiled at her remarks. Estrid was glad for the shift in their relationship, appreciating the sense of harmony it brought to the group. Well, if one could call their bickering peaceful. Knowing Eira, she did consider it as such. Estrid did perceive them as quite similar, to which a friendship was bound to blossom inevitably, she believed.

"Now that you´re well-rested, you can greet the arriving guests in my stead," Eira suggested, glancing at the princess who nodded in reply.

"Sure."

Chapter Text

Reluctantly, the princess got up from her seat at the dining table, bidding the two other royals goodbye before her feet led her towards the training grounds. The fresh air almost made her shiver due to being accustomed to the warmth inside the dining hall. Pebbles crumbled beneath the sole of her foot, crunching down with force as she strolled over to the area she usually trained at. A surge of energy went into each step she took, her body already feeling tense, despite not having exercised yet. Why? Because a man in particular was already waiting for her, a squire waiting patiently beside him, Eira´s bow and arrows in his grip.

Instinctively she pursed his lips and her eyes narrowed upon seeing him, an emotion arising she´d rather not feel anymore. She muttered a curt, "Hello," under her breath before extending a hand towards the squire. Catching up with what she meant, the boy didn´t hesitate to hand her the bow and arrows, bowing while doing so. "Greetings, Your Highness," he addressed her before folding his hands behind his back, watching the girl with round eyes.

Wulf also greeted her, keeping it simple with "Princess," accompanied by a nod in her direction. His voice sounded somber, and his lips parted as if wanting to add more, but he didn´t. Probably because Eira had already turned away from him, attaching the quiver filled with arrows to her hip. The man with an eyepatch faced the squire, nodding at him. "You are dismissed." The boy furrowed his brows, confusion taking over his face before he noticed the firmness the man held in his voice. Therefore, he pushed his lips into a tight line, bowing hurriedly before retreating, leaving the two alone.

Eira had a scowl on her face, having heard the short conversation between the two males. She didn´t want to be alone with him, nor did she wish to speak with him at all. Being in his presence brought so many confusing and discomforting feelings to the surface, feelings she didn´t want to handle. Feelings she only wanted to keep locked away, isolating them until they´d inevitably vanish.

"I didn´t ask for you to send him away," she spat with venom, keeping her eyes locked on a target hidden between a set of bushes, the bullseye scarcely visible. Footsteps followed her words, halting mere inches beside her. It was enough for her to flinch, her lip quivering out of instinct. "I wanted to speak with you, Eira," he replied with a soft voice, his eyes showing signs of concern. His choice of words was vastly different from the formality he greeted her with. It felt as if they were familiar with one another, but to Eira, it felt as if they were estranged, making her grow uncomfortable at his words. The princess merely scoffed at him, not turning to face him. "I don´t want to speak with you," she replied curtly, holding the bow with her hand.

"Just-" he gulped, "Let me try and explain, please." Eira wrinkled her nose, feeling a surge of anger course through her. "Explain what? How you refused to tell me of your betrothal to get underneath my gown?" She let go of the arrow, shooting it directly at the middle. "No, Eira." He shook his head, but she couldn´t see. "Look at me, please," he begged, his voice turning more desperate with each word he uttered. Reluctantly, she turned, facing him with a scowl. Her angered expression was a stark contrast to his saddened one, his brows pulled together. It hurt him to see her look at him this way, but he deserved it, didn´t he?

"What?" she asked with an aggravated tone when he kept quiet, urging him to voice his thoughts. Wulf blew a puff of breath, his gaze drifting shortly to the grass beneath them before returning to her face. Her beautiful, porcelain-like skin was untouched by any wounds. It was vastly different from the skin on her fingers, calloused by the physical activity she participated in. Her eyes were narrowed with anger, but inside them shone a glint of despair.

"I´m sorry for what I´ve done, truly." Eira´s scowl turned into a frown as she listened quietly to his words. "I don´t expect you to forgive me, I haven´t deserved that. But believe me when I tell you that I never intended to use you." The princess pressed her fingers against the hard material of the bow, grazing her calloused flesh against the smoothened wood. "I held you close to my heart- I still do. I stayed quiet because I wanted to bask in the last few moments I had with you."

Eira parted her lips, her breath hitching while listening to him. "As soon as I´d tell you of the betrothal, our relationship would have changed, which is why I wanted to stretch it out for as long as I could." She bit her tongue, ambivalent on the matter. "But that was selfish, I know. I should have told you immediately." Eira didn´t want to listen to any of his words anymore, feeling even more torn with each passing second. She didn´t know what to feel anymore, confused by everything.

She shut her eyes, attempting to block out her surroundings, along with the emotions coursing through her. "Why," she spoke up eventually, "Are you telling me all of this now? It won´t change anything, you know that." If anything, that made it just much more complicated for Eira. "You are betrothed to my aunt," she reminded him, reminding him of what situation he was in.

"I didn´t want you to think I used you," he replied, his voice heavy from guilt. "I´d never treat you like that, never." Eira sighed, feeling close to the verge of tears. It wasn´t fair to her. Now she was stuck with this feeling she couldn´t describe, didn´t know what to make of it, while he was free from his guilt. An apology didn´t suffice, an explanation didn´t. Because if it did, she´d feel the need to forgive him. And if she were to do that, her emotions would spiral out of control, not knowing how to release them. She needed to hold a grudge against him, she had to. If forgiven, then why would there be any reason for her to be upset at him?

Her grip tightened on the bow, her knuckles whitening from clenching her fists too hard around the material. She wasn´t sure of how to respond, so she didn´t. Her silence spoke volumes, though. It made Wulf sigh, holding a hand to his nape. Eira acted as if nothing had happened, reaching for another arrow before focusing on another hidden target. "You can call the squire back over." It was a way to tell him the conversation was finished and that Eira didn´t want to discuss the subject any further. Was this a sign of cowardice from her? Perhaps, too afraid to be confronted with her feelings.

Wulf sighed, turning around to search for the boy. "If you wish," he replied shortly before leaving her side. As soon as his presence had left, she let out a deep breath, throwing her head back while shutting her eyes for a short moment. After that, she focused again on shooting arrows at several targets. It was a great way to deal with her frustration, luckily. Pent-up anger was seeping out, forming into a ball of energy she used to shoot arrows, her arms scarcely straining from the repeating motion.

Footsteps soon neared her, before the squire from earlier returned. He approached the targets she had already hit, thrusting out the heads of the arrows from the pierced-through fabric. Wulf had settled a bit farther away from Eira, observing her training from a certain distance. It was better this way, not distracting her from the task at hand.

It didn´t matter how far away he stood, Eira could still feel him practically breathing down her neck. His stare was discomforting, and she felt caged in, somehow. It was enough for her to lose focus; her usual confidence vanished when she missed the bullseye more often than once. It was enough for her to grunt in frustration, teeth clenching with as much force as she could muster, resulting in a sound of gnashing.

Perfectionism was a trait of hers she didn´t cherish at all, for it sabotaged her in many different ways. It was why Eira refrained from trying out new things since she´d immediately drop them after failing at the first try. Defeat was something that bugged her more than anything else, for she was a stubborn princess with a sense of pride. Being a royal meant to be perfect, after all. No mistakes were allowed to be made, and all eyes were regarding her, waiting for any possible errors to happen.

It was why she finished her training earlier than usual, throwing the bow onto the grass in fury.

Her hands were trembling from her nerves spiking up, her nostrils flared, and her teeth gritted. The squire watched with a baffled expression, confused by the sudden outburst from the princess. He merely watched without moving, his gaze following her figure. Eira dug her foot into the dirt, biting her lip until she drew blood, tasting the familiar metallic liquid. All of a sudden, she had felt the urge to cry again, shame filling her.

If she was so shit at the one thing she did every day, spending all of her time with archery, then how miserable was she truly? Eira didn´t want to cry, though. It was embarrassing enough for her to have opened herself up in front of her uncle, even if she was intoxicated. She didn´t need to cry again in front of others, especially not when Wulf could see her. Eira didn´t allow herself to break down now, swallowing all of the pent-up emotions down her throat.

As if she were a butt-hurt child, she stomped back into the castle, leaving the squire to clean up after her. Wulf didn´t say a word when he saw her retreating figure, fearing he´d make it worse. Eira did explicitly make him know that she didn´t want to speak with him any further, so he respected her wish. His eyes followed her, staring until he couldn´t see her anymore. It was pitiful, pining after her, knowing there was no way to deal with his feelings for her.

Eira wasn´t sure how many hours had passed since training, maybe two? It might have only been one, based on how quickly she left. The first thing the princess did when entering the castle was to go into her chambers and let a servant draw her a bath. In the meantime, she opened up her braid- a hairstyle she always wore when training- and let her fingers thread through her hair, sighing softly while finger-combing the dirtied strands.

She quickly got rid of her attire, throwing the leather pieces of clothing onto the floor for the servant to pick up afterward. When the time was ready, she entered the area with the filled bathtub, shutting the door behind her. First, she dipped her toes into the warm water, huffing when she felt her skin turning wet. She eased herself into the hot tub, her heart rate picking up at the temperature change. Her head was resting against the hard material of the bathtub, her wet hair clinging to the side of her face.

With shut eyes, she slowly inhaled and physically relaxed, her arms resting on the sides of the tub. It was peaceful, in a way. No one to bother her, nothing to make emotions rise in her chest, emotions she didn´t understand herself. Her lips formed into a pout, her brows furrowing when her thoughts began to drift off to the events of yesterday. She recalled the moment with her and Canute, the moment in which she confided in him about her father.

Eira wasn´t sure why she told him all of that, why she felt comfortable enough to speak to him so freely. Was it truly the wine she drunk all day long? Her head began to ache from pondering it, her nose wrinkling from discomfort.

It was... peculiar thinking about it. Knowing she had poured her heart out to him, even crying right beside him. On the other hand, it felt… freeing. Eira felt at ease, somehow. Despite him indirectly being at fault for her dilemma, he reacted in a way that comforted her. In a way that soothed her. She felt understood by him, knowing they were similar in some ways. Knowing they felt similar things in some ways.

It was weird, nonetheless. But Eira was glad for it, knowing she wasn´t truly alone in that regard. Yes, her emotions were untameable and she didn´t understand them at all, leaving her confused and disorientated, but Canute felt similar to her. It was reassuring, sort of. Knowing she wasn´t the only one having such inner turmoil.

Softly, she began to scrub off any excess dirt with a wet sponge, cleaning her skin before smearing scented oil on her body. Her nails dug into her scalp, scratching it while moaning in delight. Adding fragranced oil onto her long hair, she began to rub it onto the mane, running her fingers through each strand while sighing. Her chest was heaving up and down in a slow manner, her body relaxed and in utter bliss.

After a while, she decided it was time to get out since the water got cold after some time. If she could, Eira would stay in the tub forever, engulfed in warm water, and die peacefully and alone, undisturbed by anyone.

The princess draped a towel over her body, drying herself off before she stepped into her bedroom and approached a waiting servant. The girl had a soft smile on her face, her hands holding a gown laced with rich fabric. What caught her attention was the color of it; the dress was blue. Suddenly, her mind was filled with thoughts of her father, together with the blue-covered book sitting inside her drawer, untouched for too long to count.

Her face contorted into a scowl, wrinkling her nose before she quickly shook her head, much to the servant´s confusion. "Is something wrong with the gown, Your Highness?" Eira facepalmed, her mood turning sour all of a sudden. "Get me a different dress. Not. Blue," she emphasized with each pause, glaring at the meek servant who was quick to nod, her eyes widening with fear. "Y-yes, Your Highness!" the girl stammered, bowing before leaving her chambers, the sound of a pair of doors shutting pulling Eira out of a trance-like state.

She let out a sigh, furrowing her brows. Stepping towards her bed, Eira let herself flop onto the soft mattress, biting her lip as she began to fidget, digging her nails into the flesh of her fingers. The stinging sensation kept her present, preventing her from zoning out.

She didn´t want to think about her dead father anymore; the thought of him alone was enough to make that tightening feeling in her chest reappear. Eira´s wet hair clung to her back like a cloak, functioning as a cold embrace. Gladly, it had begun to get warmer outside, and therefore, she wasn´t as quick to get cold. This way, she also wasn´t dependent on cloaks anymore; a mere long-sleeved dress sufficed when the sun was shining.

Speaking of which,

A knock erupted from the door, to which Eira yelled for the person to enter. It was the same servant, glancing unsurely at the princess before she stepped inside the room, shutting the doors behind her quietly. "Your Highness, I hope this gown is to your liking." Raising the dress in her hand, Eira was able to glance at it better than before. It was gorgeous, consisting of a cream-colored underskirt, paired with purple sleeves and torso, decorated with golden Norse patterns.

The cleavage was a bit low for Eira´s taste, but it served as a great way to highlight the necklace resting beneath her collarbone, the one she was gifted by her late mother. The princess hummed in reply, to which the servant let out an inaudible sigh, relieved by her reaction. Stepping forward, the girl placed the gown on the bed before she helped Eira dress in undergarments before draping the dress over her head, and pulling the skirt down to her ankles. The fabric was soft, and the gown showcased her breasts in a way that would almost be considered inappropriate for a Christian princess. For this reason, she wore a white dress shirt underneath, covering the lower bits of her cleavage.

The pendant of her necklace sat nicely on her chest and the servant attached two large brooches on each side of her shoulder which had small patterns engraved in them, along with small crystals. It was beautiful enough for a princess to wear, but too extravagant for a noble lady. The servant girl braided Eira´s soft hair, pulling it into an updo, leaving a few strands out to frame her face. The princess kept watching her work by gazing into the mirror, pleased with the display of herself.

Eira didn´t have to think much when being dressed by the girl, shutting her eyes and relishing in the soft touch when her scalp was shortly massaged. When finished, Eira dismissed the servant before visiting the solar, anticipating Estrid´s presence there. After all, her embroidery class should have been finished since then, allowing her to spend her time freely now.

Upon opening the set of doors, leading to the solar, Eira´s gaze immediately landed on the person she had been looking for. "Estrid," she called out to her, addressing the princess with much warmth. The blonde sat on the comforter, embroidering a pattern of some sort into a blanket. It looked impressive to her, inspecting it from close when she sat down beside her in front of the fireplace. "Already finished with training?" she raised a brow at the new companion, lifting her gaze momentarily to meet Eira´s eye.

"Yes," she answered with no further explanation, resting her chin on top of the comforter´s arm before letting out a soft yawn. "I see you´re currently occupied," she remarked while watching Estrid´s fingers move deftly, weaving through the fabric with a sharp needle, one Eira was sure would poke her flesh in the first second of touching it. The blonde hummed absentmindedly, brows pulled together in concentration.

Eira noticed it, smirking at the sight when a thought came to mind. "I have an assumption on who you might gift that to," she snickered at her," Based on how seriously you´re taking this." Estrid felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile, images of the blond boy reappearing in her mind. "Speaking of which- did you send the letter or did you completely decide to discard it?" Estrid continued to poke the needle into the thick fabric while replying," I didn´t send it, but luckily I´ve received a letter from him. It was just delivered to me half an hour ago, I believe."

Eira´s lips formed an ´o´ shape, pleasantly surprised by the newfound information. "That´s great, what did it say?" Estrid´s cheeks flared up at her question, the words from the letter leaving butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach. "He told me not to worry, that he´s safe and sound. He also said that he will be at Canute´s coronation, so I´ll be able to see him again." It didn´t go unnoticed by Eira how soft her voice turned and how dreamy she gazed at the ground. A sad smile pulled at Eira´s lips, knowing their affections were bound to have no future.

"That means you´ll tell him of the betrothal in person?" The answer was already clear. Still, Eira couldn´t help but ask her, staring at her with curious eyes. Estrid hesitated, a pained expression visible on her face as she pondered her question. "...Yes. Keeping quiet doesn´t help anyone, does it?" Eira bit her lip at hearing those words, eyes narrowing. It would have been good if Wulf thought similarly to Estrid, telling her right away about the betrothal. That did show how selfless the princess was compared to others.

Eira sighed, shooting the blonde an apologetic look. "I´m about all of that. You don´t deserve this at all." Estrid winced, her eyes darting off to the side. "There´s no need to apologize, you are not at fault for that." Eira breathed out through her nose, gulping down the spit that had formed in the moment. "I know, I just-" she wasn´t sure of what to say, fiddling with the pendant of her necklace. Instead of talking, Eira switched her position to rest against Estrid´s shoulder. This way, she was also able to watch her embroidery better.

"You know…," the blonde spoke up, "A little birdie told me you wanted Canute to apologize to me." The corners of her mouth were twitched upwards into a smile, her eyes squinting. Eira let out a huff, rolling her eyes. "I assume he did?" The blonde nodded in reply, switching the color of the thread she used. Eira let out a pleased sigh, her lips stretching into a smirk. "I´m surprised you two were talking at all."

"I did spend the entire day with him, so it was bound to happen," Eira answered while shrugging, resting her cheek against Estrid´s shoulder, squishing it in the process. "I figured you two would become friends eventually," the blonde replied thoughtfully. It made Eira arch a brow at her, confusion taking over her expression. "What made you think that?"

"You are quite similar. I expected you to find common interests." Eira kept quiet, pondering her words, furrowing her brows as she thought about that. Her gaze landed on the blanket in front of her, the admirable pattern of delicate flowers woven into its fabric. "Don´t you believe that´s a bit… feminine to gift him?" Chuckling, Estrid faced her with a humored look, "He´s fond of flowers, so I think he´ll like the blanket." A grin pulled at Eira´s lips as, staring at the pattern with a bemused expression. "That doesn´t faze me at all."

Estrid kicked her shoe lightly in response to her jab, glaring at her playfully. The princess whined, dramatically rubbing the attacked area on her body, pouting at her friend. "I´ll tell Adalgund how mean you´ve become in his absence!" Estrid stifled a giggle, watching her incredulous demeanor. The princess in question leaned against the backrest of the comforter, sighing to herself while staring at the wall tapestry. "I´m hungry," she complained while holding a hand to her stomach. "Dinner will be served in about two hours or so," her friend replied absentmindedly, keen on finishing the project as soon as possible.

The princess groaned upon hearing her words, her face scrunching into a pained expression. "I can´t wait that long." Estrid glanced at her, shrugging before resuming her work. "Then go to the kitchen and ask the servants for some cake, if you want." Eira got up on her feet, following her instructions after she straightened out the creases of her skirt. When reaching the doorknob, Estrid called after her," Bring me some too!"

"Will do!"

-------

After a brief council meeting in the great hall, Canute went to his study to read through multiple scrolls resting on his desk, waiting to be opened for once. His eyes were growing heavy, on the verge of shutting from exhaustion. He hadn´t had a good sleep last night, not after the outlandish encounter with his late brother. It took a toll on him, a great mental one. The position he slept in also didn´t have any good effects. His back ached, and he was sure that his posture had been somewhat crooked throughout the day.

It was also quite hard for him to pay attention to anything the men at the council were saying, his sleep-deprived self only listening to half of their words. Gunnar noticed this and urged Canute to dismiss the men sooner than normal, which he ended up doing. The man let out a sigh when he entered his study, shutting the door sluggishly behind him. It was tempting to fall asleep again, only for mere minutes, if so.

Sitting down on the soft cushion of the stool at his desk, it was hard for him not to close his eyes. Tired, he reached for the few scrolls he didn´t manage to read through yesterday and therefore having to do it now, unfolding the parchment before reading its content. It took him a while to finish the work, having to write several letters as well. He was careful not to spill any ink, not wanting to make the same mistake twice.

The scrolls littered across his desk diminished, while the pile of letters he wrote increased. His hand almost hurt from the amount he wrote down, the jar of ink already empty by now. It was then that he allowed himself a moment to rest, resting his chin on his palm while gazing outside the window. Sleep didn´t come to him, his thoughts were too loud for that. He kept thinking about his conversation with Eira, pondering what she told him.

Knowing she was once eager to become queen did change a lot, he realized. It meant that a betrothal between them would favor her too, wouldn´t it? She poured her heart out to him, telling him it was her only wish to rule after her father. If they were to be wed, Eira could do exactly that. To be his queen and rule by his side. Canute was sure it wouldn´t be hard to persuade her at all since the betrothal should benefit her too. It made everything much easier for him, knowing he was now able to use one of her weaknesses to his advantage.

Did he feel horrible exploiting her like this? Of course, he did. It was wrong of him to use something she confided in him to his advantage. Canute knew he was a dreadful person by now, based on how often he manipulated those around him. But the arrangement would ensure her happiness in some way, too, wouldn´t it? With that, both would get what they wanted in the end, so it was alright for him to act so, right?

Right?

That´s at least what he kept telling himself to feel better. He believed that this wasn´t just out of his own interest, but he was doing her favor too.

Realizing he had read through a scroll several times without processing its content, he blinked a few times, as if attempting to rid himself of his thoughts. He straightened his posture, his back once slumped together, leaning against the seat´s backrest, now upright and tense. It was uncomfortable, yes. Of course, he preferred to sit sluggishly before succumbing to sleep, but being king rid him of that privilege.

Chapter Text

After Eira bid Estrid goodbye, she quickly walked through the halls, eager to indulge in something to eat. Her footsteps echoed throughout the castle hallway, loud and clear as she stepped towards the kitchen. Surely she could have also demanded a servant to bring cake to the solar, but the princess preferred to see the freshly baked sweets for herself and choose from them.

Therefore, she hurriedly went to the destination, the scent of baked goods already invading her senses. Eira moaned in delight, practically drooling as she imagined the several types of cake waiting for her. Her eyes were glinting with thrill, and her lips stretched into a slight smile at the daydreaming. When arriving in front of the doors, she quickly knocked on them, waiting for the set of doors to be opened.

A varlet opened, stunned upon laying eyes on the princess. The boy quickly bowed, startled to be met face-to-face with royalty. "Y-Your Highness! Why´re ye here?" An elderly woman walked up beside him, hitting the back of his head with a stern expression. "Ye can't talk to a princess like that!" the woman gritted her teeth at him, receiving a yelp from the young male. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, his gaze focused down on his shoes. "Now go!" The woman slapped him on the back, ushering him back inside and continuing his work.

The boy didn't hesitate to follow the older woman´s instructions, mumbling a "Stupid old hag" under his breath as he turned his back. The woman widened her eyes, glaring at the male while calling out to him," Don't make me go back there!" It was enough to make the varlet shut up, quickening his pace before he left their sight. Eira had to stifle her laughter, watching the scene with a bemused look. The older servant then turned back to her, her expression apologetic as she bowed. "My apologies, Your Highness. That slave is still new and does not know of any etiquette."

"´Tis quite alright," the princess answered with her expression switched to more neutral. The scent coming from the kitchen was more pungent now, and Eira was able to make out the sole ingredients used for baking. Fruits, dough, lemons, and much more. It was oddly pleasant to her, bringing her hungry self at peace when breathing through her nose. "What brings you here, Your Highness? ´Tis no place for a high-born princess like yourself but for lowly slaves."

"Since it's still too early for dinner, I wanted to pick up pastries for Princess Estrid and myself," she explained while her gaze focused on the shelves behind the woman, laying eyes on freshly washed fruits. It was enough to make her royal mouth water at the sight, daydreaming about stuffing herself full of berries and grapes.

Gods, she was hungry

"Your Highness could have let a servant fetch those for you," the woman argued with a concerned expression. Eira merely swatted her hand at that, motioning for the woman to calm down. "I've wanted to take a look at it myself," she explained. Reluctantly, the older woman widened the doors to her, ushering her to come inside. Eira did exactly that, following her inside. When the doors were shut again, the warmth of the kitchen engulfed her wholly, as if a grand fireplace was lit right in front of her.

The sweet scent was overwhelming to her, it being the only thing that went through her nostrils. Several servants were staring at Eira with round eyes as if never seen a royal in their entire lives. Well, most likely not from up close. It was enough to make her grow uncomfortable, being the centre of attention. The woman led her through a door, reaching a room with finished baked goods, ready for display.

Eira´s eyes lit up, excited to try the different pastries. The woman beside her reached for a tray, placing it on the surface of the counter. "Go on, try anything you want, Your Highness. Just tell me what to put on the tray." The princess nodded, grinning as her eyes flitted over the different kinds of sweets. The first thing she picked up was Wienerbrød, filled with vanilla cream and covered with icing. Biting into the pastry, she let out a delighted hum, shutting her eyes temporarily as the sugary cream coated her tongue.

"Like it?" the woman observed her with a smirk, draping a small towel over her shoulder. Eira nodded quickly, sighing before she gulped the rest down, placing the half-bitten pastry onto the tray. "It tastes wonderful, add another one to it." Estrid would surely also be fond of it, based on how enamored she was with anything sweet. Eira also pointed at the set of Danish rolls stacked upon each other. "Take two of those," she said before her gaze landed on a pile of cookies, filled with jam, "And four of those."

The woman nodded, following her orders while she placed the sweets onto the tray. "Anything else?" the princess glanced around, humming to herself before replying," Could you add a small bowl of berries, too?" The woman smiled softly at her, nodding before reaching for a bowl to fill with fruit. It was placed in the middle of the tray, decorated beautifully, before the servant handed it to Eira, who gladly took it. "Thank you," she muttered while scrutinizing the tray in her hands, ignoring the urge to indulge in it immediately. After all, she wanted to wait until she'd arrived at the solar.

The woman led her outside the kitchen again and offered for a servant to carry the tray to the solar, which Eira quickly declined. "I´m alright, thank you for your service." Eira dismissed the older woman before stepping outside the kitchen. The cold of the castle hallways engulfed her skin, goosebumps forming from the sudden change of temperature. The breeze made her shudder slightly, but it was better than staying inside the hot kitchen with a long-sleeved dress.

The tray in her hands wasn't heavy at all, so it was no problem for her to carry. Her walk was as quick as before, keen to reach the solar in a short time to indulge in the sweets. Her tongue kept lapping over the sugary cream stuck to her teeth, savoring the taste. It was how she managed to refrain from biting into the pastry again, sticking to the taste left in her mouth.

Upon reaching the solar, Eira held the tray with one hand, raising the other to open one of the doors. Estrid glanced at her, expression brightening when her gaze landed on her hand. "That looks delicious!" she exclaimed, waiting excitedly for Eira to shut the door again. "It is!" Placing the tray onto the table in front of them, she folded out the creases in her skirt before joining Estrid´s side.

The two grabbed one of the pastries, biting into it. Estrid´s expression changed into one of relaxation, humming softly while throwing her head back. "It's so sweet!" Eira chuckled at her friend, taking another bite out of the food in her hand. Glancing at the blanket in the blonde´s lap, Eira raised a brow. "How long are you going to sit in the same position?" Estrid followed her gaze, landing on the object she was embroidering into. "Until it's finished," she declared with a determined expression, making the princess beside her stifle a chuckle by taking another bite.

"If you say so..." the two continued to feast on the sweets, emptying the tray in a matter of minutes, only leaving a few crumbles. Bored by watching her friend weave threads through the fabric, Eira stood up from the comforter and went over to the easel beside the windowsill, placing one of the few canvases resting against the wall onto it. Then, she went over to a chest, opening it to take out brushes and paint colors. She wasn't sure of what to draw, so she settled on observing the sight from the window, placing several brushstrokes onto the white canvas.

Estrid hummed a tune in the meanwhile, happily tapping her foot against the floor. The atmosphere was calm and serene. Neither felt the need to speak at the moment, merely relaxing in the quiet moment of relaxation. Eira was content with the fact that Estrid´s mood had improved. The thought of Adalgund possibly arriving tomorrow or the day after overrode the heartbreaking truth of the situation, for her to be wed to Wulf soon enough.

Eira was glad for that, glad to have a friend who was often gleeful. Gleeful enough for the both of them when Eira felt like shit.

It went on like this, quietness engulfing the living area while she continued to capture the sight from the window onto the canvas, each stroke of her brush covering the white bits, coloring it with several tones. It was unusually quiet inside her head, no thoughts plaguing her mind like they often did. She wasn't thinking of Wulf, not about her conversation with him or memories of him altogether. It was just... silence.

Eira was occupied with placing each strand of grass correctly, quietly cursing to herself when she accidentally smudged one of the previous brush strokes. It made Estrid chuckle, hearing her insults from the windowsill. Her blanket had also been on the verge of finishing, her fingers deftly working with needle and thread.

After a while, a knock caught their attention, making them call out to the person behind the doors. A servant opened them, bowing in front of the princesses before raising his head. "Evening, Your Highnesses. Dinner will be served now." Eira acknowledged the man with a nod, glancing at the tray on the table. "You can take that back to the kitchen," she told him while stashing her painting supplies, leaving the canvas to dry on top of the easel to dry.

Estrid folded the blanket, putting the threads into a small bag, together with the needle she used. "Please bring that to my chambers," she pleaded to the varlet, receiving a nod from the male before she walked up to Eira, linking arms with her before exiting the solar.

Eira noticed the way she clung to her arm, most likely due to her pleasant anticipation regarding Adalgund. It made her speak up, glancing down at her friend beside her," Do you think he'll arrive tomorrow?" The question made Estrid squeeze her arm tighter, only letting go of her when they reached the dining hall. "Sure hope so!" A guard bowed to the pair, opening the set of doors for them to enter. The two sat in their respective seats, gazing at the food that was served.

It didn't take long until Canute arrived as well, seeming tired as ever. "Brother!" Estrid almost jumped out of her seat to greet him, only to be halted by Eira holding her hand over the table to keep her seated in place. "Hello, Estrid," he greeted back, his blank expression meeting her cheerful one. Sitting down between them, his gaze flicked to Eira´s, remembering his ´plan´. "Uncle," she acknowledged, nodding at him, who smirked in reply, his tired eyes meeting hers.

"You seem exhausted. Were today´s duties rougher than usual?" Estrid asked with curious eyes, glancing up at him before she reached forward to add a few potatoes to her plate. "Not really, but I had leftover scrolls to read through from yesterday, which I had to finish today." Eira quirked a brow at him, stuffing a piece of broccoli into her mouth and swallowing it before speaking up," That's all? Doesn't seem like too much work, in my opinion." A glint of mischief in her eyes revealed the humorous intention behind her words, attempting to tease him.

Canute sighed, ignoring the urge to smile at her words, and instead appeared to be annoyed by her, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I also had not had a good night's rest, for your information. Neither do I recall asking for your opinion, either." Eira snickered, biting down on a piece of chicken while glancing at him. "Didn't think sleep deprivation would turn you into a cunt." Her crass words made Estrid gasp, stunned by her choice of words. "Eira!" she scolded with stern eyes, but the princess in question did not face her.

Eira still faced Canute, who glared back at her, but his lips were curled into the smirk she saw so often, one which she mirrored. "Your words are truly a fresh breath of air. I trust you to always say the truth," he spoke with a sarcastic tone while staring into her eyes intently, his gaze almost scrutinizing. Eira let out a breathy chuckle, eyes darting back to her plate, sticking her fork into a potato. "A great decision, really," she replied, matching his sarcasm equally.

The banter between the two made Estrid let out a sigh, resuming eating instead. It was exhausting to watch them interact like this, so Estrid didn´t want to know how it´d feel to be included in the banter. Therefore, she kept quiet, indulging in the food on her plate. Eira let a servant pour wine into her goblet, drinking the red liquid, which made the man beside her arch his brows. "Didn't you wake up with a headache from yesterday?" The princess rolled her eyes at him, instead emptying the cup of spite. "There's no need for worry. One cup doesn't do much if you didn't know yet."

"I'm sure it won't be your only cup," he replied, his smirk still plastered on his face as he regarded her. A servant walked forward, wanting to fill her goblet again, to which Eira quickly raised a hand, motioning for the woman to stop. Her eyes were narrowed and her brows furrowed, staring at him while the servant slowly walked away again, unsure of what to make of that.

"You never know," she replied, not breaking eye contact. It amused him, crossing his arms in front of his chest before leaning closer to her. "I do have my theories." Eira´s lips pressed into a tight line, breaking eye contact for once to instead stare off to the side, as if abashed. It made Canute smile triumphantly, taking his eyes off her reluctantly to resume eating his food.

Munching down on more chicken, Eira pointed the end of her fork at him, raising a brow as she regarded him. "Have you already ordered the book?" Canute smirked, nodding at her. "Of course, I promised you to stay true to my words, didn´t I?" It made Estrid´s ears perk up, glancing between the two curiously. "What book?" Canute faced her, sticking his fork into his broccoli before replying," I promised Eira to buy her a book she wanted, called The Tale of Genji, for helping me greet the guests yesterday."

"If I would help you greet the guests," she corrected before biting into a potato, narrowing her eyes at him. "Oh, that sounds exotic. Is it from the east, perhaps?" Canute nodded, adding, "Its origin is Japan." The blonde hummed, eyes sparking with interest. "That's quite far away. How long will it take for the book to arrive, then?" Her words made Eira chuckle, biting down on her lip to suppress any further laughter. "I´m not acquainted with the language, therefore, a copy of a Norse translation was purchased from a Danish book handler."

Estrid´s cheeks burned red from embarrassment, glancing off to the side sheepishly. "Oh," was the only thing she replied, stuffing her mouth full of potatoes afterwards. Anything to keep her distracted. Canute took a swig of his cup, pondering for a moment before speaking up," I believe the novel will arrive in a week or so." It made Eira giddy, already imagining herself reading through the book´s content throughout the entire night, curled up inside her bed. She was excited, barely able to contain her glee.

"Why did you ask? Don´t have anything to read in the meantime?" The princess shook her head, resting her chin in her palm, her elbow digging into the table´s surface in the process. "Not really, no. I've read most of the books in the library, the others… don't interest me much. I still have a few titles that I've read through multiple times, though." Canute hummed, staring at his niece chewing on a piece of chicken. "You know you can always borrow books from me, don´t you?"

"Yeah, I'm aware. It's just that in your absence, I´ve sort of forgotten about it, I suppose." She mindlessly stuck her fork into the food on her plate, digging several holes into it. "You can come with me to my study after dinner and pick out a few books you'd like."

"Sounds good to me," she shrugged, eating another piece of broccoli.

Estrid kept mostly quiet for the rest of the dinner, pondering how she could finish her project until tomorrow, without neglecting a good dose of sleep. Not only that, but she'd rather not get in the middle of their bickering, hence why she settled on not speaking much at all. When she was finished, she dismissed herself quickly from dinner, not wanting to waste any time she could use for embroidery, despite how rude it might seem.

Canute nodded at her, bidding his goodbye while Eira gave her a slight smirk, her thoughts drifting to Adalgund. The blonde met her teasing expression with blushing cheeks before she finally got up from her seat and left the dining hall. Eira glanced after her, her gaze glued to the set of doors leading outside, before she resumed eating. "Any idea why she seems so giddy?" Canute quirked a brow at her, waiting for an answer.

Eira shrugged, feigning innocence. "I suppose we'll find out sooner than later." Canute gave her a knowing look, his gaze scrutinizing as he searched for any clues in her expression. He found none.

Swiftly switching the subject, Eira cleared her throat after cleaning her mouth with a napkin. "Are you finished?" He nodded, mirroring her motion before standing upright, extracting his hand from her. It earned him an eye roll from Eira, who grasped his hand to be pulled up to her feet. "You do know I can perfectly stand up on my own, correct?" Canute let out a chuckle, sauntering over to the doors, "You weren't obliged to take my hand, were you?" Eira grunted in reply, letting go of his hand and following him outside the doors.

"It would be rude of me not to take it," Eira muttered, meeting his eyes. "You worry about being rude?" His reply made her facepalm, shaking her head dismissively. It made him chuckle slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk.

He led her to his study, unlocking the door with the help of his key before opening it for her to enter first. "I see you're still wary about anyone coming inside?" Eira glanced around the room, taking in the messy sight of scrolls and books littered around, filling each surface. She pondered if there was even enough space for another candle to fit into. "You never know," he repeated her words from before, shutting the door behind them. The smell inside the room was from old paper, ink, and burnt candle wax. The scent made her feel at ease.

The last time she was inside this room, the air between Canute and her had been entirely different. It was... fraught, strained. Now, a sense of comfort and serenity filled the atmosphere inside this room. She didn't feel anxious to be around him, let alone only the two of them. With a sense of confidence, she strolled over to the tall shelves of books, her gaze flicking to each title. "Any recommendations?" She felt him join his side, footsteps halting right next to her. His eyes landed on a book in particular, sliding it out of its previous place.

He smudged away the dust that had settled on it, puffing on it before he handed it to her. The book was quite heavy and thick, and the cover was made out of rough leather. It seemed to be old, based on how decayed the leather already seemed. "What's it about?" she asked him, glancing up to meet his eyes. He faced her, gaze inspecting her instead of the book in her hand. "Figure it out. Tell me how you liked it afterward."

Eira scoffed at him, lifting the book a few times to check out its weight. "I prefer to know what I'm about to read. I'm not keen on mysteries," she replied, breaking eye contact to glance at the book instead. It didn't matter how much she grew to be comfortable around him, his intent gaze never failed to make her nervous. She was only able to meet his eyes for a short amount of time before avoiding his gaze.

"There´s no harm in trying out the opposite for once." His words held truth, that much she knew, no matter how much she disliked that thought. She preferred to have her routines, sticking to the usual.

"Maybe," she eventually replied, stepping away from him and reaching the doorknob. "Don't you want more books?" Eira shook her head, wrapping both of her arms around the one in her grasp. "That´s big enough. But don´t worry, I´ll pester you when I´m finished." A smile crept onto her face, one Canute mirrored.

His brows slightly furrowed when his mind drifted to what he wanted to speak with her about. He still wanted to bring up the offer of a betrothal between the two. Yes, it might be unnecessary to seek her consent for something he had already made his mind up about, but forcing himself on her like that wouldn't be exactly in his favor after all.

Asking her directly, making her agree to the suggestion, making her believe it was her own decision; the trust that was slowly building up between the two would grow with that. If he were to announce a betrothal without her consent, she´d surely make his life a living hell from then on, based on what kind of person Eira was.

Therefore, Canute suddenly spoke up, "Are you still up for a walk?" Eira raised her brows, blinking a few times at the sudden request. "Uh- sure, why not?" She stood outside, waiting for him to lock the door. Canute reached for two cloaks before he shut the door, since the air in the evening would be chilly compared to the sunny noon. He draped the red one over his shoulders, clasping it shut before doing the same to her with a blue colored one, since her hands were occupied by holding the book.

The color irked her, but she did not say anything, instead muttering a quiet "Thank you," to which he nodded, leading her through the hallway and outside the castle. The cloak smelled of old books and candle wax, since it hadn´t been freshly washed before. The scent came from him, one she found oddly comforting, unconsciously lowering her head to inhale it further.

Canute motioned for three thegns to follow them, of course, walking far enough behind them so they´d be out of earshot.

One of the men took the heavy book from her hands, carrying it in her stead. She then settled on folding her arms behind her back, walking leisurely beside her uncle. "Are you bored, or why did you invite me out for a walk?" The two walked through the gardens, taking a shorter pathway to reach a bridge. The sun was only now beginning to set, therefore, it wasn´t dark yet. Several colors were dancing around the sun, coating the sky in a beautiful mixture of orange and rose hues. "Perhaps, perhaps not." It made her quirk a brow at him, raising her chin to watch his face.

"I was thinking about our conversation," he confessed, footsteps colliding with pebbles on the ground. Eira raised her brows, surprised to hear his words. So she wasn´t the only one who kept pondering the conversation they shared?

"You told me of your wish to be queen," she nodded, "Why do you want to have such a burden on your shoulder?" Canute faced her, staring at her instead of the pathway in front of them.  His voice sounded thoughtful, his expression making him appear to ponder over something.

The bridge was almost in grasp-reach, only a few minutes walk away. Eira bit her lip, chewing on the flesh while thinking about his question.
"It's because of how I was raised. It´s that-" she sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment before opening them again, her gaze falling on the sky, admiring it. "It is the only way I could finally be seen by my father."

Canute furrowed his brows, still staring at her. "What do you mean?" Eira swallowed down the spit that formed, her lips slightly trembling with anxiety as she forced herself to think about her father again. "I didn't get to spend much time with him. He was stuck with duties or busy spending time in a church or a prayer room. I never felt seen by him. I thought, if I were to be crowned after him, I could make him proud. Be the kind of leader he was."

Canute knew that feeling, knew how it felt to have such a father. Sweyn never cherished him as a son, but rather as his brother. He was... a possible substitute, nothing more. It didn't matter how often he tried to make him proud, it never got him anywhere.

"Eira, you were seen. Your father didn't have much time on his hands, but he loved and cherished you dearly. You were his only child, the only thing left of his wife." Those were the words he wished he had been told, for he felt worthless and unloved throughout his entire childhood.

Eira felt the corner of her mouth twitch downward into a frown, her eyes narrowing. "I spent my entire childhood pondering if I was good enough for my father. Thinking that he was disappointed in me for not being a son." She tried her best to keep the tears from dwelling, blinking her eyes a few times before they completely vanished.

The sorrowful tone in her voice made him wince. "You were good enough, Eira. It´s not because Harald didn´t want you to rule after him, but rather because Denmark would have never accepted a woman as a ruler. He didn't want you to go through such a thing." Eira´s nose crinkled, kicking at the pebbles on the ground.

Just why the fuck did the world despise women this much? Eira knew she´d be a competent leader. She was raised exactly like one, learned exactly the things a future king would. How did having a cock make a person superior to the one who didn´t? This sexist bullshit never made any sense to her. She refused to understand it.

"So the only way you could truly feel seen by him is by being queen?" Canute spoke up again when he noticed her lack of reaction. Eira didn't reply, digging her nails into her wrist to let out some of the frustration she felt. "Being a monarch is a heavy burden. You don't get to live for yourself anymore," he told her, gaze flicking towards the ground he walked on. "Do you want such a thing?"

"It's what I was raised for," she replied thoughtfully, stepping onto the bridge with him. Canute went over to the edge of the bridge, eyes trailing over the small river. Eira followed him, joining his side, leaning her elbow on the edge as she faced him.
Both of them were silent, pondering what to say further. The guards stood at the beginning of the bridge, keeping their distance from the two.

A soft breeze of wind passed them, the sound of rattling leaves filling the air. Canute switched his gaze onto her, watching how she quietly glanced at the current of the river underneath them. He hesitated, inhaling deeply before speaking up," Then let us marry."

It took her some time to even realize what he was asking of her and in what situation they were in. He, her uncle, was asking for her hand in marriage. This entire situation was overly absurd to her, her head pounding at the stress she felt. She was overwhelmed.

Not only that, but this was her second complicated interaction with a man today. When speaking to Wulf, she had already felt plenty of feelings arising, ones she couldn´t name herself. The stress and anxiety that filled her chest during that conversation were resurfacing now. It made her unable to think rationally, leading to her widening her eyes before doing something extremely stupid.

Canute opened his mouth to speak further, but wasn't able to. She swiftly turned around and struck him across his cheek, startling him. Canute grunted, holding a palm to the attacked area while crunching down a bit. A burning sensation took over his senses, numbing him shortly before he could recover.

That stung. If he believed in the Norse gods, he'd think it was Odin himself who gave her this much strength in the moment.

The guards did not pick up on their conversation, only seeing the attack from Eira. They walked forward, quickly being halted by the raise of Canute´s hand. "Stay there," he commanded with a stern tone, still caressing his cheek. He was sure it´d turn red eventually.That woman did not hold back at all, huh? That wasn´t exactly the reaction he expected from her, not at all.

Eira bit the inside of her cheek, the urge to apologize too hefty to ignore. "I don't know what came over me," she admitted while staring at the reddened cheek he now let go of. "It's fine," he shook off her concern, knowing her reaction was reasonable, in a way. He tried his best to concentrate on what he wanted to say, blocking out the stinging sensation he felt while parting his lips, wanting to speak up. "What makes you say such a thing?" Eira spoke up in his stead, meeting his gaze with a horrified expression.

"You can be queen and rule at my side," he replied matter-of-factly. It made her furrow her brows, glancing at him with confusion written all over her face. "But why would you offer such a thing?"

"Many don't see me as fit to rule and therefore put my claim to the throne into question. With you, as the daughter of the former king Harald, no one would dare to question it any further; therefore, let us bind our blood together." Eira began picking at her nails, glancing off to the river again, as if trying to calm herself. Her eyes were still wide, trying to process what he was asking of her.

"I need you, Eira." he was practically begging her, gazing at her with pleading eyes. Her breath hitched, brows raised in surprise while staring at him.

She had never seen him like this, openly displaying his desperation. Normally, she´d see him act stoic, cold even. Eira had only ever witnessed his almost playful demeanor when he spoke directly to her, and even then, he had only just begun to interact with her this way. Those were the only set of moods she ever saw Canute have, which made his way of acting even more surreal to her.

"But- you're my uncle." She was appalled, frowning at him. Never in a million years did she expect him to request such a thing; no less did she ever think of him as a possible suitor in that regard. Offering to wed his own niece because of political strategies? The idea was too vile.

"Such betrothals are not unheard of," he replied hastily. "But they´re unnatural. Sinful, even," Eira argued while avoiding his gaze, his scrutinizing stare making her now more uncomfortable than ever. It was immoral, disgusting, and... shocking to hear from him, who was raised as a devout Christian. Wasn't he supposed to be appalled by this sinful thought himself?

Canute ignored her remark, instead saying, "Just think about it. As my wife, you'd stay at court. You wouldn't have to start a new life, never change your home. You'd stay with your family." And marry her own family as well.

He was lulling her into a false sense of security, trying to influence her way of thinking by telling her exactly what she wanted to hear. Fucking bastard, knowing of her deepest desire and exploiting it. Of course, it was only natural for her to contemplate it after being told she'd only gain by this ´parley´, receiving the title as queen and retaining the privilege to live at court.

Eira wasn't stupid, nor gullible. She knew what he was doing. But it was fucking working and there was nothing she could do about it. She bit her lip, glaring at him through her eyelashes, eyes glinting with utter disgust. Weirdly enough, he found the degrading look she gave him somewhat alluring. He didn't realize it himself; the only thing that hinted at that fact was the weird feeling stirring inside his chest.

Not that it was surprising, not at all. Canute often provoked such a reaction out of her on purpose, delighting in the derogatory way she´d treat him after that. Who guessed he perceived her brattish and wilful behaviour as tantalizing?

"You definitely won't get into heaven by doing that." The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smirk, glancing at her with amusement. "I will create paradise on earth. I have no desire to reach the gates of the god who abandoned us." She furrowed her brows, confused by his blabbered nonsense.Perfect, he didn't just want to marry his niece, but also believed in being a messiah. Her uncle was a true madman, wasn't he?

Well, she wasn't completely sane herself, so who was she to judge?

"You know it would benefit us both," he began, "You don't have to answer now, sleep on it and tell me of your decision tomorrow." It was the first time she had ever heard him so keen on something. Thoughts kept spiraling inside her mind, confusing her to no end. Eira nodded eventually, refusing to say anything to him, not even bidding goodbye when she left his side to walk back towards the castle, for his presence overwhelmed her dearly in this particular moment. Or better, Eira´s thoughts were overwhelming her- she needed to sort them out on her own.

She felt the burning gaze from the guards on her back, a pair of footsteps following her.

Canute stayed behind, still gazing at the river while the guard carrying the book followed the princess inside the castle. A sigh escaped his lips, now left alone to his thoughts while watching the sun set quietly, observing each color present in the sky, each one holding a certain warmth to it. A warmth Canute had never felt.

--------

Arriving at her chambers, Eira took hold of the book again, dismissing the guard before going inside and shutting the doors behind her. Upon facing the inner walls of her room, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, brows furrowing when she placed the heavy book on her desk, a thud erupting with the impact. She noticed drops of blood on the rough cover, tainting it to her surprise. Eira glanced at her hands. Bloodied marks were littered across the delicate skin, most likely from digging her nails into it from the anxiety spiking.

She groaned, shutting her eyes for a moment before cleaning the blood off with a wet rag. It stung. The open wounds were small, yet sensitive to any form of touch, making her hiss out loud.

Her gaze flitted around the room, the quietness dawning heavily upon her. The silence she typically cherished was now deafening. Challenging her in a way. Eira tried to pay it no mind and instead began to undress and drape a nightgown over her head, preferring to get ready for slumber on her own, instead of being helped by a servant. Eira always relished in the peaceful silence that came with loneliness at night, but now, the same silence made her uneasy.

She freed her hair from the hairstyle she wore, letting it fall onto her backside, caressing it metaphorically, like an embrace. She desperately needed one at this point, no matter from whom or what. Then, she quickly hid beneath her covers, gazing at the grey ceiling while cuddling herself with a blanket, as if shielding herself from the outside.

The soft fabric brushed against her skin, making her sigh softly while lifting her palms to her face, staring at them quietly, her scrutinizing gaze inspecting each mark she dug into her skin. Her mind was filled with several thoughts, all centered around the conversation she had with Canute, all centered around him.

Just what exactly was it with the men in her life, tormenting her peace? Perhaps being a woman lover and ignoring all men for the rest of her life didn't sound too bad right now…

She laid in bed helplessly, unsure of what to do. The idea of marrying her uncle wasn't something she was fond of, nor did she expect such an outcome of a conversation with him. It was all so sudden, and she didn't have much time to process any of it.

Of course, she wasn´t ignorant. She couldn't help but admit the benefits he spoke of, the fact that she´d rule over Denmark and England at his side. While she wouldn´t reign in her own right, it still came close enough to her wish. It came close enough to her father. Even if it were his manipulative words planting a seed in her mind, they still held truth. A truth that sounded very desirable, despite the unsettling circumstance.

It was infuriating to her, knowing that Canute was close to getting his way. She was too stubborn and prideful to let him triumph. To let him feel the satisfaction of having won her over.

Of course, she´d have a better future by marrying him than being betrothed to an irrelevant or old lord. The mere thought of that was able to make her skin crawl, itching and burning at the idea of her being wed to some lord and becoming irrelevant soon after. Forgotten, cast aside from the court.

By accepting Canute´s hand in marriage, she wouldn't be tossed aside, but her name would hold meaning instead. She´d be queen and stay at Jelling. Stay with Estrid, stay at home. But it wasn't a pleasant thought to be wed to him, for they were closely related. She'd have to bear him heirs, a thought that made her queasy. Never had she thought of him that way, of her uncle as the future father of her children. It was peculiar, and she preferred not to dwell on it too much. And Canute was quite irritating, too.

Not only that, but a small, naive part inside of her still hoped to have a marriage of love. A part of her hoped to have married Wulf, which, of course, would never happen. As much as it infuriated her, part of her still pined after him. She couldn't just get rid of her feelings for him after a day, for it was the first time Eira felt those emotions that arose deep inside of her.

It was silly thinking of her. As a princess, Eira didn´t possess that privilege, since her title was a bargaining tool to form alliances with. It was clear from the start that her marriage would be for political reasons, not romantic ones.

All of that pondering was too much for her drained self, her head spinning in circles. The mindless thoughts didn't help her ponder a decision at all, but instead made her go mad even more. To think that she dared to strike a king across the face said enough about her irrational behaviour. Maybe sleep would be good in this situation…

Eira didn't pick up the book on her desk, but instead glanced at the ceiling, attempting to ignore the waterfall of thoughts flooding her mind, until sleep finally took over. It was the only night she ever witnessed being uncomfortable by the silence that came with being alone. 

Chapter Text

A ray of light shone through the window, the sun illuminating each leaf of the trees, making them appear lighter in color than they truly are. Due to no winds in sight, the air was still and warm. It was a perfect day to be spent outside, for the weather was beautiful. The natural source of light made Eira´s eyes flutter open, staring directly into the ray of sunshine.

It was a pleasant way of awaking from her slumber, for it was normally knuckles hitting against the wooden material, leading to the sound of knocking from the door disrupting her sleep. She blinked a few times, the harsh light blinding her for a moment.

While stretching, she let out a soft yawn, staring outside the window while doing so. She took quick notice of the nice weather outside, a rush of excitement fleeting through her. Her mind was still blocking out the memories of the previous night, which resulted in quiet peace, even if only temporarily.

The princess got up from the bed, feeling much more ecstatic than usual in the morning. The weather was responsible for it, cheering up her mood. Perhaps she could spend the day outside with Estrid, knowing her friend would also be delighted by the idea.

The blanket was thrown from her body and onto the mattress beneath her, her feet carrying her as she stepped barefoot over the cold tiles of her bathroom. She took her time to get ready for the day, relaxing while participating in the mundane tasks.

After a while, she walked inside her bedroom again, her gaze landing on the cloak draped over the stool at her desk. The blue color of it made her eyes narrow slightly out of instinct, and she clenched her fists tightly before releasing them again. The mere piece of clothing was enough to remind her of her uncle and the conversation she had with him. The ambivalence reappeared, several feelings clashing against each other.

Eira wished she had more time to think about the matter, but she was supposed to tell Canute of her decision today, wasn't she? She huffed, reaching for the cloak. Her fingers clenched around the cloth, the tips of her fingers grazing against the fabric in circular motions. The scent of Canute still radiated off of it, making her raise it to her nose to sniff it without a second thought. She wasn't sure why, but the mixture of candle wax and books was oddly pleasant to her nostrils, as if it were a scented oil she´d smear into her hair.

She retracted from it, draping the cloak over the stool again. Still in her nightgown, she waited for a servant to arrive with a new dress, staying in her nightly attire in the meanwhile. Her eyes trailed over the book resting on her desk, waiting to be opened by her. Since she wasn´t occupied and wished to be distracted from her thoughts, she picked up the heavy book, carrying it in her arms.

Walking over to the windowsill, she climbed onto it, sitting on the cold surface while her back rested against the stone wall. Her gaze switched to the outside of the window, watching how beautifully the sun shone. How magnificent the flowers appeared to be, basking peacefully in the rays of sunlight without moving, implanted into the earth. The heavy weight in her lap made her attention shift to the book, her fingertips moving to trail along the rough leather.

She flipped mindlessly to the first page, eyes fleeting over each word written onto the page. She flipped the second page, repeating the motion. Third, fourth, and eventually the thirtieth page. It made her realize how early she truly woke up. Being the opposite of a morning person, it confused her quite a bit, but she ignored the thought, reading through the pages instead.

It wasn't clear how much time passed, but eventually a servant knocked, entering when Eira called out to her. The woman was visibly surprised at seeing the princess already awake, but swiftly helped her to get dressed, along with styling her hair. The gown was suited for the warm weather, being made of lighter fabric, along with shorter sleeves and a deeper neckline.

Her necklace felt cold against her bare skin in a pleasing way. Her hair was also put up, so her neck was kept free, exposed to the air to avoid strands of hair sticking to her sweaty skin after sitting outside in the sun.

After the servant finished attaching the brooches on her shoulders, Eira went over to the dining hall, halting hesitantly before she eventually turned around the corner at which the doors leading to the hall were. Her breath hitched, knowing she´d face her uncle right then and there.

She braced herself, inhaling deeply before reaching the tall set of doors. The thegns who stood outside immediately bowed upon noticing her, leading her to the entrance. She held her head high, straightening her posture before stepping inside. Her gaze landed first on Estrid, who smiled sweetly at her. It filled her with relief, knowing she wouldn't be alone with him for now and could therefore avoid speaking to him about the matter at hand.

Then, her eyes flickered to him, noticing his curious stare. She greeted the two, sitting beside him at the table. The blonde was the first to address her, the smile on her face not wavering. "You don't seem as tired as usual!" Her cheerful tone didn't go unnoticed to her, knowing it was the excitement of seeing Adalgund again.

"Yes, I woke up a bit earlier than normally," Eira replied with a soft voice, mirroring her smile. Eira too felt joyful at the thought of seeing the boy again, being quite fond of him.

Canute´s gaze was glued to her, as if perusing her. Eira knew why. Still, she avoided eye contact, deliberately ridding her expression of any hints that might have given her thought process away. Of course, he was dying to know her decision, desperate to find out if she still mulled over the matter.

After all, he clearly needed this arrangement more than she did. She realized this just now by the way he watched her now, by the way he acted previously at the bridge. Eira wasn't able to get that image out of her head, the way he stared at her with almost pleading eyes back then.

It made her feel somewhat important. Eira knew he needed her help. The fact that for a sole "Yes," he'd probably get on his knees and beg made her feel content. Did it get to her ego? Surely it did, knowing he was dependent on her.

A king, dependent on her.

"I need you, Eira."

A weird feeling in her chest had formed when he said that sentence. Having a king at her feet felt oddly satisfying; that much was true. It was as if he were at her mercy, somehow. Canute was practically wrapped around her finger like that.

Knowing that, a small part of her relished in the way he kept staring at her. It was her deliberately gazing at Estrid instead and picking up a conversation with her that made him grow tense. It bothered him how she was purposefully ignoring him, feeling powerless in this situation. He was used to having the reins in such matters, which made it all much worse for him. To rely on someone made him feel like he was losing control. Losing control of his plan, perhaps even straying from it.

When Eira glanced at him from the corner of her eye, meeting his gaze for the first time today, she felt her breath hitch slightly. It was only for a split second in which the tension spiked between the two, unbeknownst to Estrid, who munched on her food happily. Eira quickly averted her gaze after, not giving Canute the chance to look in her eyes for any clues.

During the entire course of breakfast, he kept quiet. His eyes were always on her, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.

None came.

While Estrid was swarming over something he didn't listen to, a thegn entered the hall, interrupting her mid-sentence. "Your Majesty, Your Highnesses," he bowed, "Ser Adalgund of house Andersen has arrived in Lord Andersen´s stead. He requested Princess Estrid´s presence."

The girl in question widened her eyes, a rush of glee coursing through her. Without hesitation, she stood up from her seat, reaching for Eira´s hand. "Come, we've got to greet him!" she exclaimed with excitement, practically shaking with the intense emotions arising in her chest. Eira nodded, a genuine smile pulling at the corner of her lips while standing up to her feet, letting herself be dragged away by her.

"See you later, brother!" the blonde hurriedly spoke without sparing him another glance, her gaze kept in front of her. Eira waved at him with a blank expression when she noticed his frown deepening. He was bothered, not being able to pull her away after breakfast to speak with her.

Canute continued to stare after her, adamant on seeking out the much-needed conversation with her. He wouldn't let her slip through his fingers again. Didn´t matter if it would lead to him knocking at her door in the middle of the night. He was impatient.

If he wanted something, he did everything he could to achieve it. It wasn't any different with Eira. Eventually, he'd get to her, he was sure of that.

-------

"Did you get to finish the blanket?" her words echoed in Estrid´s mind, making her turn to her friend. "Yes! Thanks for reminding me." The blonde approached a servant, requesting that the item in question be brought to her from her chambers. The servant nodded in reply, bowing before walking in the said direction, leaving the two princesses on their own again.

"Let's not keep him waiting then, mhm?" Eira motioned for the blonde to follow her, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Estrid nodded, running after her hurriedly until they fell into sync steps, approaching the entrance to the inner court. A small carriage was right outside, several servants reaching for luggage to unload. Sounds of idle chatter filled the air, the small commotion catching the attention of many lords.

A silhouette in particular caught the two girls' attention. His wavy blond hair pulled into the usual braid he wore, and the sheepish way he carried himself made it obvious who it was. But something about his demeanor was different, though Eira couldn´t quite pinpoint what it was. If Estrid noticed, she didn't dare to speak about it. Instead, her grin widened, and she was quick on her feet to reach him, engulfing him in a tight embrace.

Adalgund didn't have much time to react, startled by the sudden hug. He quickly recovered, though. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her affectionately. "Estrid," he whispered, leaning into her touch. His eyes were glued to her hair, his chin resting on her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair oil.

Eira took deliberate, slow steps until she reached the pair, halting right beside the two with a smirk on her face. "Long time no see, Adal." The new nickname made him flush in embarrassment, her teasing nature never failing to make him turn even more sheepish than he already was. "Hello, Eira," he greeted with a soft smile, letting go of the blonde to instead wrap his arms around her, much to the princess´ surprise.

Eira stared dumbfoundedly, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden show of affection. Hesitant, she lifted a hand to awkwardly pat his back until he let go. "Didn't take you for a hugger," she thought out loud, her smirk reappearing. The boy scratched his nape bashfully, eyes darting onto the ground he stood on. He chose not to reply, making Estrid speak up in his stead. "The weather is so beautiful today, I propose we could go and ride somewhere?"

The other two nodded, agreeing with the suggestion. Eira´s gaze landed on Adalgund, observing him. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about him was different. Perhaps it was the way his posture was straightened? The way he seemed so tense when hugging her? The way his eyes were squinted as if he was pondering something, several thoughts crossing his mind, he couldn't shake off.

She didn't speak on it, rather ignoring her observation and paying more attention to the conversation the two next to her held. "Sure, why not?" Adalgund was the first to speak, grinning softly at the shorter princess. "Yes, sounds good to me. But my history lesson begins in a few minutes, you can pick me up when it's finished."

Of course, she could have ditched that class for today and spent time with the two lovebirds instead, but Eira wanted to leave them to themselves for a bit. There were still lots of subjects they had to discuss. Subjects that didn't have much to do with her.

Therefore, she didn't leave much room for arguments. "You can accompany me to the hall, if you want." Estrid nodded, linking her arm with hers again while Adalgund walked beside her. The two were talking gleefully to one another, as if discussing a passionate subject. Eira paid them no mind, too occupied with her thoughts. She still wasn't sure what it was, but something about the boy made her furrow her brows, glancing at him warily.

Stepping back inside the castle, a surge of cold made Eira shiver, goosebumps littered over her exposed arms. Due to the warm weather outside, the air inside the walls of the Danish castle was chilling, compared to the temperature outside, the sun playing a major factor in that fact.

Eira bit her lower lip, cursing to herself. She wished for a cloak to be draped around her at that moment, or at least to have worn a gown with thicker fabric. It didn't matter which cloak; she´d even wear Canute´s blue one to avoid freezing. Nonetheless, she kept walking with the two nobles in tow, following her to the hall.

Upon reaching the doors, Eira turned around and bid them goodbye, quickly ushering them to be on their way again before going inside the hall herself, bracing herself for the lesson to come, for she forgot to finish reading the books that were assigned to her.

—

With pursed lips, Eira let go of the quill in her grip, letting it fall onto the table with a small thud. Several pieces of paper were stacked, filled with her handwriting. The history lesson had stretched out much too long for her liking, for her mentor had felt the necessity of dumping a huge amount of information onto her all at once.

Information she, of course, had to write down. To summarize on paper. To memorize in mind.

Her hands were trembling, aching from the amount she had written down. Her thoughts were filled only with political ties between different kingdoms, past and present. It was the only thing she could think about, the neurons in her brain mushed together.

Her gaze landed on the emptied jar of ink, eyes narrowing with exhaustion. Letting out a sigh, she got up from her seat, rising to her feet. She crammed the few pieces of paper that were scattered around onto the stack, holding it tightly together so that none would escape her grasp.

Turning around, she regarded the window, observing how the sun was hiding behind a large cloud. She groaned, facepalming at the thought of having her friends waiting for her. It made her wince, already pondering how she´d apologize correctly.

Bidding her mentor goodbye, she reached for the door handle, opening the door with one hand while holding onto the stack of paper with the other. She closed the door shut behind her, exhaling slowly before visiting her chambers to drop the items in her hand off.

Afterwards, she quickly got on her way to the royal gardens. The still air was enough to warm her up again, although the sun was still shy and hid itself behind a pile of clouds. Eira didn't have to look around much to find the pair she was searching for, sitting beneath the oak tree she often found solace at. A mere wave from her hand made them glance at her, their smiles widening into a grin at the sight of her.

Approaching them, she felt herself begin to smile at their gleeful expressions, swiftly sitting beside them under the tree. A huge shadow made by the leaves shielded them from the burning sun.

“I´m sorry for arriving so late. The lesson ended up being longer than anticipated,” she apologized, emphasizing the rueful tone with her lips pressed tightly together.

“It's fine, you needn't worry,” Estrid replied quickly after. Her eyes were squinted together by the grin on her face, the skin at the corner of her eyes creasing with the motion. Adalgund also smiled at her reassuringly, his fingers tugging at the strands of grass beside him.

“I can only assume how bored you two were without me.” a cocky smirk pulled at her lips, making Estrid roll her eyes playfully. “We missed you, yes. Even though we were perfectly fine without you.” The lad beside her chuckled at the words, shutting his eyes in amusement.

Despite the smile he put on, he seemed more tired than usual. The rings underneath his eyes were prominent, deeper and darker than Eira remembered them to be. The discovery made her stare at him in a scrutinizing way, observing him for any more hints.

It was weird seeing him like this. She could only guess what the reason for it was. Perhaps it was due to his father? After all, the reasoning for his sudden departure was his father´s declining health.

She did not know, but she was sure of finding it out eventually, either because he´d speak up about it himself, or because she´d ask him.

“Well, it's still quite early. We could go riding?”

“Great idea!” Estrid called out to her with an excited tone. Her joyous demeanor was evident, based on her body language. With a grin pulling at her lips, the princess was shaking, almost jumping from ecstasy.

Therefore, Eira´s suggestion was quickly implemented, hence why the three of them were spending their time outside for the entire afternoon. Similar to the last time Adalgund was at court, they rode off to the cliff beside the river. The weather was luckily better than at the previous visit, which is why they were able to bathe their feet inside the river without a second thought. Albeit the water was still cold and quite unpleasant after a while.

What they also thought of was bringing nourishment with them so that eating lunch at the castle would be a problem. Instead, they picnicked with several fruits and baked goods. Estrid, the sweet girl she was, even gave the accompanying thegns some of the food they brought, which the men gladly accepted.

The act made Eira roll her eyes, albeit still being amused by the display. Adalgund, on the other hand, smiled, although he seemed to be absent, lost in thought, even.

It worried the princess, and she was beginning to wonder if Estrid had noticed it too, but did not dare to speak of it. Not yet.

Inevitably, the time would come when she'd find out what was going on with him.

The three continued to bask in the sun for as long as they could, relishing in the rare occasion of sunny weather after the harsh winter. Long conversations filled the air, along with laughter erupting from their throats whenever Eira made a cheeky remark, teasing the lad.

Eira occasionally kept quiet herself to observe the interactions between the two, pondering if Estrid had already told him of her betrothal. To her, it didn't seem like that at all, since their dynamic was the same. No differences were detected in the way they interacted with one another, which made Eira think even more.

When would she tell him of it? She hoped for Estrid to do it sooner rather than later, for it would break Adalgund´s heart if she´d drag it out. Eira had her second thoughts about that due to her own experience with it, for Wulf had done the same thing.

Perhaps she´d ask her sometime after?

For now, she didn't say anything about that, instead quietly relishing in the time she was able to spend with her friends.

That way, she didn't have to think about the conversation with Canute. Spending time with the two was a great distraction, she realized. But Eira couldn't avoid the subject forever, that much she was aware of.

Nevertheless, the trio spent the rest of the afternoon outside, lying on the grass and staring up into the sky until eventually hours passed and the sun they cherished for so long began to set, lowering itself and slowly vanishing from their sight. Hence why they decided to ride back to the castle after that.

—-

Upon reaching court, Eira retreated to her chambers, parting her ways with her friends.

Why? Because she didn't want to stumble upon Canute. Therefore, she requested dinner to be sent to her with the excuse of not feeling too well. Of course, she could have dined together with Adalgund and Estrid, but she chose not to. Eira didn´t because of Canute´s presence, wanting to avoid it as much as possible.

She felt somewhat rueful, having avoided her friends´ presence altogether and lying to them about it. But she couldn't help it, for dread filled her gut when thinking about her uncle, knowing he was keen on seeking out a conversation with her. She felt anxious whenever she thought of the matter and therefore avoided it altogether, including Canute himself.

Eira still felt torn about the matter. It was a decision that weighed too much to be taken so lightly, one that directly influenced her future. The prospect of it scared her to no end, leading to her blocking out any thoughts regarding the matter. For every time she contemplated it, a wave of nausea washed over her.

The mere thought of having to bed her own uncle, to carry his seed and birth his heirs, made her shudder with disgust. Betrothals as such were not uncommon and were often arranged between royals to strengthen the line to the throne. But the Christian upbringing influenced her in that regard, despite not believing in the lord. Eira was sure her father would have been appalled by that suggestion and would've never accepted it, so was it truly a good idea to accept?

Canute was her father´s brother, someone that she used to play with when both of them were still young.

But truth be told, Canute wasn´t the same person he was as a boy. He had changed, carried himself differently, and believed in many different things than in the past. He wasn't the boy from back then; he was someone entirely else.

Eira tried to avoid the subject altogether, not wanting to have her mind filled with such thoughts. Thoughts that made feelings arise, she couldn't get smart from, but was confused instead.

She sat beside the window, similar to how she did in the morning. The same book was resting in her lap, opened to the fiftieth page. The sound of rustling paper filled the silent room, the occasional huffs of breath echoing. The sun had already set outside the window, darkness enveloping the court.

Stars were visible, littered across the navy-colored sky, along with the moon that had begun to show itself, coming out of its hideout. Several candles were lit, the fire acting as a source of light for her reading.

The book helped as a distraction, her mind dipping into the past and imagining itself to be in another dimension, exploring each depth of the story. Eira wasn't aware of how much time had passed; the only thing that gave away the long duration was the way her bum had begun to ache from sitting on the hard surface for too long.

Nevertheless, she ignored it. Her eyes were glued to the heavy book in her lap, her gaze only lifting when she heard noise coming from outside the doors. The faint sound of footsteps could be heard, followed by a knock on the door. Her heart nearly stopped beating, her blood running cold at the sound.

Anxiety rising, Eira´s hands began to tremble, slowly shutting the book before raising to her feet. She refrained from calling out to the person outside her chambers, instead hesitantly stepping towards the set of doors.

A shiver ran down her spine when her skin made contact with the cold material of the door handle. She bit her lip, inhaling deeply, bracing herself before she opened one of the doors. The sight didn't surprise her, but it still made her feel uneasy.

Canute stood at the door frame, his expression blank, even cold. An inaudible gasp left her lips, eyebrows raising. “Eira,” he was the first to speak up, “May you accompany me to the solar?”

“It is quite late,” she remarked. Those words made his eyes narrow at her, the corner of his mouth twitching downward. It was enough to make her gulp, swallowing the spit that had formed in the process, her gaze lifting to meet him. Her unsure eyes landed on his, making direct eye contact. His blank expression turned a bit softer at that, albeit his gaze was still stern. She averted her eyes, staring at her feet before she opened the door a tad bit wider, slipping through it.

Shutting it behind her, the quiet thud filled the silence between them. She was still biting her lip, chewing on it until blood was drawn. The metallic taste kept her grounded and reminded her of which situation she was in.

She wanted to say something, speak up, and blurt out anything to not have this insufferable silence around them. Canute chose to stay quiet, which made her even more nervous than to begin with.

With knuckles turning white from her clenched fists, she let out a deep breath and tilted her head in his direction. “Have you met Adalgund yet?” It was unusual for her to begin with small talk, for she despised the simplicity and irrelevance of it. But now, it helped her to think of anything else, distracting herself from what was to come. The question he'd soon ask.

Canute turned to meet her gaze and noticed how her lips were pulled into a slight frown. It made him feel guilty, knowing it was his fault. Knowing that her dilemma was stemming from his suggestion. “Yes, I have. He seems friendly, which is why I'm not surprised you two are so fond of him.” His voice was strained, and he added long pauses between several words. It was bizarre, since he often spoke with a sense of confidence and finality.

But now, it seemed as if he weren't sure of what to say himself. Still, she was glad he answered her question, keeping the small and insignificant conversation afloat.

Eira nodded along with his words, biting the inside of her cheek while doing so. Silence followed, and the uneasy feeling reappeared. “I've begun reading the book you gave me,” she spoke up again, her hands folded behind her back as the two walked.

Canute noticed the change in her demeanor. For her not being very talkative most of the time and him being the one beginning most of their conversation, she was quite chatty now. The nervousness she displayed didn't go unnoticed by him, and it made him feel dejected. He was the reason for it, after all.

“And is it to your liking?” His tone wasn´t as monotone as it was before, but softer instead. Both of them were talking to one another with a sense of familiarity, despite the palpable tension in the air.

“Yes, it's… quite interesting. Thank you for lending it to me.” She mustered a smile, but immediately cringed inside when the thought of a marriage with him appeared. The image of being swollen with his child was enough for bile to rise in her throat. It was something she couldn't get out of her head anymore, as much as the imagination of it horrified her.

Canute stared at her with an unreadable expression, staying quiet for a moment before he replied, “I'm glad.” It was a short answer, and the way he emphasized it made it seem as if he were to add more.

Nodding, Eira continued to walk beside him until they reached the solar. She halted in front of the entrance, glancing at the blond with a thoughtful expression before quickly averting her gaze to the set of doors, so he wouldn't notice her staring.

First to move, he reached for the door handle, opening the door wide enough for both of them to slip through.

The first thing their gaze landed on was a pair they´d rather not see right now, for they were supposed to be confiding in one another privately.

Surprisingly, Estrid and Adalgund were sitting together on the comforter. The blanket she embroidered was draped over the two of them, along with two steaming cups of tea resting in their palm, a serene air surrounding them. The two turned to the opening door with startled expressions, meeting the gaze of Eira and Canute.

It was awkward, to say the least. The pair stood stiffly at the door frame, unsure of how to react. Especially for Eira, who had purposely avoided their presence in the evening and acted as if she were not feeling well, which now obviously turned out not to be true, for she was seemingly safe and sound, standing right in front of them.

And the fact that it was Canute that stood beside her made the interaction odder. Estrid was aware that the two had grown closer, but spending time together late into the evening? When she could have spent time with her and Adalgund?

It made it seem as if Eira lied to them in order to spend time with Canute instead, which clearly confused Estrid to no end. Gears were turning in her head as she met Eira´s surprised expression with a confused one of her own.

Estrid and Adalgund´s presence in the solar was quite adverse, for the conversation the two were supposed to have was intentionally discreet. With them present, they surely wouldn't be able to speak of the matter any further. A fact that made Canute almost grunt in frustration.

He was the first to clear his throat, cutting through the thick tension with a few words. “Evening, you two.”

Chapter Text

The tension inside the solar was thick, making it difficult for Eira to breathe. Or, perhaps it was merely the anxiety causing her asphyxiation?

As soon as Canute greeted the pair, the uncomfortable and long minute of silence-filled with staring at each other- was finally disrupted. As if pulled out of a trance,  Estrid parted her lips with surprise.

“Your Majesty,” Adalgund quickly bowed his head, frightened to seem indecorous in a king´s presence. After that, he kept his mouth shut, for he didn't wish to meddle in royal affairs. Not only that, but he wasn't oblivious to the tension in the solar and therefore refrained from contributing to it any further.

Despite her confusion, Estrid´s lips curled into a smile. “Eira, I thought you didn't feel well?” her voice held a twinge of apprehension as she spoke, facing her friend with the quirk of a brow.

The princess in question stammered a bit since she didn't want to lie to her. “Yes, but I-” she was cut off mid-sentence by the blond next to her who sensed her growing nervousness. “I pulled her out of her chambers because I wanted to talk to her about something. Now I've realized how inconsiderate it might have been of me to do that since she's not feeling very well.”

Normally, Eira would have scolded him for interrupting her, but currently, she was thankful for stepping in and putting the blame on himself. Mostly because he wouldn't get chided for such a thing, for he was a king. Nonetheless, she still felt relief at not having to explain herself anymore after he had done it in her stead.

Estrid´s brows rose, nodding slowly. “Oh, Canute. Then let her rest for some time, don´t you think so?” She did feel somewhat intrigued upon hearing that they'd have an important matter to discuss but assumed it was something regarding the coronation. Especially when it was two mere days before it. Despite that, the apprehensive part of her took over, worrying for Eira´s well-being.

Adalgund- who sat next to her- pressed his lips into a tight line after hearing her light scolding which was directed at His Majesty himself. The act made him shoot her a warning glare, mixed with a glint of wariness in his eyes.

“I will accompany Eira to her chambers myself after discussing the matter with her.” The princess's shoulders tensed slightly at his words, knowing the conversation she dreaded was inevitable.
Estrid on the other hand, visibly relaxed. She parted her lips to speak further, wanting to inquire about the relevant subject, although Adalgund halted her from doing so, clearing his throat. “Uh- it is quite late. I believe it would be wise of us to retreat to our chambers?” he turned to Estrid, staring at her with an urgent look in his eyes.

Unlike Estrid, he was very much aware of the tension that had formed, and could only guess that Canute and Eira weren't quite pleased with their presence. And besides that, being in the same room with the king of England didn't get him to relax at all. Truth be told, he was a bit creeped out by Canute.

The blonde blinked, not picking up on the undertone of his words. “I suppose you're right…” The lad stood up, ridding himself of the blanket draped over himself and Estrid and placing the two cups of tea on the table beside them before extracting a hand to her, raising her to stand on her two feet.

The princess smiled at the two who were still standing in the doorframe, unmoved during the short conversation they held. Eira mustered a weak smile in reply, watching as the blonde smoothened out the wrinkles of her skirt.

Adalgund didn't want to linger any longer in the solar and walked towards the entrance, bowing again as he reached to stand in front of Canute and Eira. “Good night, Your Majesty, Your Highness.” The formality was surprising to Eira, who nodded to him afterward. Estrid quickly joined his side, hugging her friend before bidding them goodbye.

Then, the two went into the hallway, to which Canute shut the doors to the solar. Now, they were alone again and the tension reappeared. With pursed lips, Eira moved to sit on the comforter and Canute shortly followed after, joining her side.

She still avoided eye contact, staring at her fingertips instead of him. Now with Estrid and Adalgund gone, she was bound to speak with him. The realization dawned on her and her heart rate began to pick up. Fidgeting with the fabric of her dress, Eira slowly turned to him, reluctantly meeting his gaze.

She wanted to avoid the question he´d inevitably ask at all costs and therefore uttered something mundane to have a topic to talk about. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“´Tis was nothing, you needn't thank me for that,” he replied with a sincere tone, the glint in his eyes matching it. The intent way he was gazing at her made her avert her eyes again, biting her lip anxiously as she stared at her fingers.

Despite the utter nervousness that was coursing through her body due to foreboding, Eira couldn't help but notice the sense of calm that lay in the atmosphere. It was similar to when she poured her heart out to him in the gardens, where she was able to blurt out her emotions without a second thought.

Because she felt safe.

Safe? With Canute? What an odd thought… Did she truly let her guard down near a man as cunning as her uncle?

It was reckless of her. Just when did she start to perceive his presence as comfortable? Perhaps it might have been to the small moment in the garden when she received an insight into his mind. Even if it was a mere fleeting moment; it was enough for her to understand him more, compared to when he arrived from England.

It was enough for her to realize how similar they were, how he was perhaps the only person who could remotely understand what she went through.

To think of how drastically her judgment regarding Canute had changed in that period baffled her. If one were to tell her two months ago that she has been spending time with him willingly(being bribed shall count in that regard), she'd never believe it.

Eira´s thoughts about him were vastly different now, albeit still conflicted. Surprisingly, a small part of her trusted him- or wanted to trust him. But was it enough for her to consider a marriage with him?

The blond in question stared at her, uncharacteristically quiet. If it were any other person, he'd already be done discussing the topic, but Eira made him hesitate somehow. It was as if he was trying to be careful since he knew how vulnerable she might feel.

He was a straightforward man. If he desired something, then he'd take it without a second thought. He was the most powerful man of the North Sea, after all.

But he was considerate when it came to her and if it could be helped, didn't want to hurt her. Unwillingly, Canute found himself caring for his niece.

He was impatient, yearning to know what she was thinking, but her expression made him halt. It was surprising, for he usually didn't care much about another person's well-being to gain what he longed for.

But weirdly enough, he found himself caring for her, even if it was only scant.

Therefore, he refrained from asking her and instead waited for her to speak up first. The silence contributed to her unease and she was fighting the urge to dig her fingernails into her palm again.

The first thing she spoke up about caught him off guard, slightly startling him. “Yesterday, you spoke of ´creating paradise on earth´,” She lifted her gaze to meet his, “Whatever did you mean by that?”

He tensed upon hearing the question, though his eyes never left hers. “Father in heaven has abandoned us, Eira. He calls himself all-loving but watches his own children destroying themselves in needless battles and with gruesome violence.” He shook his head, his nose wrinkling with disgust as he thought of it, his expression hardening. “He doesn't love us. That is no love,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Eira stared at him, bewildered by words. Who would have thought him to believe such things? To look down upon the “creator of all”.

“We don't need his promise of paradise. We can build our own here on earth, a place free of violence and bloodshed. A peaceful place, from which we don't need any saving.”
She parted her lips, astonished by his determination. The idea was peculiar, yes. It was nothing she had ever heard of, but the thought of creating a peaceful environment sounded beautiful to her, no matter how far-stretched it might be.

“And you plan on doing exactly that?” she asked curiously, gazing into his eyes intently. Canute nodded, his expression softening from the scowl he wore previously. “It might not happen in my lifetime, but I´ll take the first step.” It was similar to what he told Thorfinn in southern Jutland, at Ketil´s farm. He believed that Eira might understand his motives, and perhaps be persuaded into helping him.

Of course, the idea seemed absurd. Building a paradise with Vikings roaming around? Men who pillaged, killed, and raped simply because they found joy in that? It was highly possible that Eira would scoff at him, shaking her head and scolding him for the foolish and outright lunatic things he uttered.

But she didn't react like that at all. Instead, her baffled expression held a twinge of astonishment. “So you´ll dedicate your life and reign to that plan?” Canute nodded again, gazing at her through his eyelashes. “Yes, I already am. Every day I'm working to get closer to that goal.”

Eira hummed, averting her gaze to her hands, pondering his words. “That idea sounds… lovely,” she replied after a while, still not looking at him. Canute widened his eyes slightly, astounded by her words.

“Then help me, Eira. If you too seek such a paradise, then aid me.” His words weighed heavily and held hefty implications.

The words he spoke on the bridge remerged her; Eira would be ruling at his side. It was a promise, one that sounded like the calling of a siren to her desperate ears. A queen did not have any real power. She did not rule in her own right but was a mere consort. Her purpose: to bear the king his heirs. Being his queen did not assure her any political power in that regard. It was the king who ruled, not the queen.

If that was the reality, then why did Canute´s words make a glimmer of hope course through her? A simmer of desire clouded her judgment. Any other king would have done exactly that; have a queen at his side for the mere reason of bearing children. But Canute sought out a goal, a reason for his rule. To achieve it, he´d needed support. Such a grand dream could not be handled on his own.

But Eira was right there. Not only was she raised to rule, but she was a competent woman who´d also been amazed by his idea. Naturally, he'd want to have her by his side.

The sole reason he got rid of his brother, King Harald, was because of the dream he sought to achieve. His brother didn't believe in such a thing and therefore two ruling kings would clash against one another. But different from her father, Eira seemed to agree with his perspective. It was the reason for his words, the reason for him promising her she´d reign alongside him.

And Eira believed him.

“You fool,” the familiar voice of his late father echoed inside his head, catching him off guard. He immediately tensed, his mood turning gloomy. Canute suppressed the urge to react, for Eira sat right in front of him.

“Do you truly think that was the reason for Harald´s death?” Chuckles erupted, making it harder for Canute to concentrate on the princess beside him. “You only seek power and might. That goal of yours might be a reason too, but in truth, your hunger for control made you murder your brother.”

The voice inside his head called out to him, urging him to respond. It was difficult not to react, even the smallest muscles on his face twitched, almost contorting his expression into a scowl.

Eira didn't notice his struggle, for her mind was too occupied with his previous spoken words. Canute´s plea made her gulp, pressing her lips into a tight line. The idea of his sounded almost too good to be true, even to contemplate. But the sincerity in his voice said otherwise. The seriousness he spoke with made his words sound like a plan as any other, realistic to accomplish.

Eira wasn't sure if it was the right decision to make, but she acted on impulse.

Perhaps it would bite her in the arse afterward, but now she only thought of the benefits she´d gain.

“Alright,” she replied after a while, her voice dripping with wariness. Hesitantly, she glanced up at him to meet his eyes, witnessing how a glimmer of something she was unable to describe shone in his iris.

“I´ll… accept your hand in marriage,” she added with uncertainty. She felt tense, debating whether it was the correct thing to choose. But in that moment, she was inspired. It was a new thing she yearned for, something new she could dedicate her time to.

She had given her life a new purpose in that moment and it made a spark of excitement, fused with determination rush through her.

Canute- who listened intently to her words- widened his eyes at the sudden decision she just made. It surprised him, thinking she'd take longer until she´d agree, due to her stubborn nature. But no, the mere mention of his plan was enough. He didn't expect that at all, truth be told.

His lips curled into a smile, satisfaction crossing his expression. Satisfied by knowing he had gained another ally in his cherished goal. Along with Thorfinn, Canute had a handful of people who were eager to accomplish that dream. “Very well, I promise you won't regret that decision.”

Eira sighed, reaching out to fiddle with a sole strand of her hair. “I still feel sort of conflicted,” she admitted.

He raised a brow at her confession, subconsciously leaning in a bit, his face now mere inches from her face. A soft note of books and candles radiated off him, filling her nostrils. The proximity made her tremble, pressing her lips tightly into a line. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Nothing will change the fact that you´re my uncle. This union still feels wrong.” Canute ran a hand through his blond hair, pondering her words. “It's the right thing to do.”

He was right. Duty outweighed her inner turmoil of religious guilt. Or at least it should be. Especially when the guilt merely stemmed from her upbringing and not her own beliefs. Ways of thinking that were drilled into her head by others and not what she thought was true herself.

Her bottom lip trembled, which she caged in with her teeth, nibbling on it anxiously.  She didn't reply to him. She merely turned her head, gazing outside the window instead of facing him. Although she had already made the decision, she didn't feel any better.

She kept thinking of the future she now chose. A future filled with making political arrangements, a future in which she stayed at court with Estrid, a future in which she´d raise her children in her home.

The idea of it was beautiful and peaceful. But those children would be her uncle´s; a thought that Eira still had to get used to. But achieving Canute´s goal was a thought that overshadowed the previous one. To turn the world into a better place, where children and women would not suffer due to the meaningless wars that took place, it was enough for her to give in. To accept his hand in marriage.

“I too wish for peace on earth,” she spoke up, filling the silence between them. Her gaze was still focused on the window, although the view was pitch black, aside from the moon, encircled by dozens of tiny stars.

“I truly want to help you. To help you accomplish your goal.”

Canute stared at her with an unreadable expression, a sudden surge of warmth filling his chest as he regarded her. Eira didn't meet his eye, but his scent was a reminder of his presence.

He wasn't sure what to reply to her. It was a habit for him to choose his words carefully when speaking to her, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Slowly, he reached out for her hand that was resting on the cushion between them, holding it lightly.

The motion made her turn to him, startled by the physical touch. Facing him with slightly widened eyes, she got caught off guard once again when he softly squeezed her hand. “Then let´s accomplish it together.”

The warmth radiating off him was a stark contrast to her cold, calloused hand. Their entwined hands were peculiar enough for her not to drift off to her thoughts again but to keep her focus on the man in front of her instead. Slowly, she nodded to him, ignoring the goosebumps that formed on her skin. If he hadn't stared so intently into her eyes, he would´ve noticed, due to her short sleeves.

“Yes,” she replied shortly while nodding, her gaze involuntarily drifting down to their entwined hands. The motion made him glance down as well, clearing his throat before he reluctantly let go of her. Despite the weirdness of it, she felt a twinge of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

“...I´ll announce our betrothal at the coronation, then.”

“Alright,” she nodded along his words, albeit feeling a rush of anxiety creeping up. The coronation was in two days, while now the day had almost been over. It was soon, too soon to her liking.

Canute took notice of the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted. It was just a slight change in her expression, but he had been staring scrutinizingly enough to notice it. “There's no need to be nervous, Eira.”

“I know, but,” she stopped, not even knowing herself how to respond, how to form her thoughts into real sentences.

Canute sensed her struggle and therefore spoke up himself. “Is it the marriage that you're afraid of?” he gripped her shoulder lightly, leaning in,” I´ll be a good husband to you, you have my word for it.” He spoke with sincerity, no trace of deceit hidden in his eyes.
Eira shook her head, meeting his intense gaze for a short moment before glancing off to a corner again. “No, it's not that. To be honest, I´m not even sure myself.”

The squeeze he gave her shoulder made Eira speak further, “I believe you. This has all just been happening too quickly for me to get accustomed to.”

“I understand,” he replied thoughtfully, his hand slowly slipping away from her again. Her shoulders slumped ever so lightly when his touch vanished and her gaze soon found his again, for he was already staring at her.

“If it eases your mind, the wedding won´t take place in less than two weeks. It will be a grand ceremony and preparation for it is needed, along with sending invitations across the country.”

Eira mustered a stiff smile, letting out a humorous huff while crossing her arms, despite feeling tense from the matter at hand. “Good to know I´m yet not bound to you,” she jested.

Humor was a perfect way to handle her inner turmoil. It was easier for her to keep her thoughts at bay when using an unserious approach, especially when it came to such a thing as choosing to marry one´s uncle, willingly.

The witty remark earned her a smirk from the blond beside her, who felt alleviated upon noticing her playful demeanor returning.

He much preferred this side to her, compared to her serious one whenever she got anxious. It meant that she was comfortable around him, regardless of the situation they found themselves in. Canute wasn't sure why, but he was glad for it. Their bond was more important to him than he´d like to admit.

She mattered to him much more than a regular chess piece he used for his schemes. Much more than she had two months ago.

“You mustn't forget that it still makes you my betrothed, meaning you are bound to me in one way or another,” he retorted with mirth. His eyes were almost glinting with mischief, staring down at her through his long eyelashes.

Eira bit her lip at that, having found herself at a loss for words. Not being able to come up with another snarky retort, she instead averted her gaze again in a bashful way, much to Canute´s contentment.

I suppose you´re right about that

Those words weren´t spoken out loud but kept on her tongue instead. After all, Eira was too haughty to admit defeat, too haughty to acknowledge Canute´s triumph in their banter.

Instead, the princess chose to switch the topic of their conversation, turning to face him again. “I assume that was what you wished to speak to me about?”

Nodding, Canute straightened his back, now sitting more upright. “Yes, that was all. I apologize for having disrupted you this late.” Eira shook her head at that, pursing her lips before regarding him. “You needn't apologize for that,” her gaze darted off again, down to her palms. “I was the one to ignore you, after all,” she added sheepishly.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he watched her with slightly raised brows. Earlier, those actions had irked him, but now he found humor in it. “Then we're even, huh?”

Extending her hand to him, she replied,” Even.” He glanced down at it with a smirk before reaching out to shake it, repeating her words. Her expression changed into one of satisfaction when their palms made contact, the feeling of regret that had filled her when avoiding his presence vanishing with the shake of their hands.

When she raised to her feet, sitting up from the comforter, Canute was quick to mirror her motions. “Let me accompany you to your bedchamber, then.”

Together, the two then left the solar, stepping outside and into the hallway. The same thegn from when they had first entered stood guard, bowing to the pair. The hallway was dimly lit by the several torches hanging on the stoned walls, illuminating each crack and crumble that came with the old age of the castle.

Mindlessly, Eira reached out to trail her fingertips against the roughed-up stone, her skin grazing along each dent. Canute watched the display with curious eyes but didn´t speak on it.

Walking side by side, the two kept quiet during the short walk toward her chambers. Despite the silence, the atmosphere between them was calm and serene. Eira didn't feel so tense, compared to in the beginning when he had knocked on her door.

It was surprising to both how well the conversation had turned out to be. Several difficulties came with the arrangement they decided on, primarily moral and ethical ones. But besides that, they came to an agreement, which made the conversation turn out to be an effective one.

Upon reaching the doors to her chambers, the pair halted in the hallway. Canute regarded her with a calm expression, opening his mouth to bid his goodbye when her eyes suddenly shot up.

“Before I forget it,” she spoke up while opening one of the doors and stepping inside her chambers. Canute glanced after her with a hint of confusion, listening to her words from outside. “I still have your cloak.”

She stepped outside again, the blue-colored piece of cloth gripped in her hand as she extended it to him. “Let it be washed first before you use it again,” she remarked while holding up the cloak for him to take.

Canute´s gaze drifted down to it, staring with a blank expression. “Keep it, I have plenty myself.” Eira widened her eyes, her mouth agape ever so slightly. “But it's yours, take it back!” she shook it slightly as if trying to persuade him into taking it.

“Well it's yours now, I´ve just gifted it to you.” The princess didn´t know how to respond to that, overwhelmed and sort of startled by the sudden gift she received. “Why-” she got interrupted mid-speech when he gently shoved her extended hand in her direction, the cloak pressed into her chest.

“Have you never learned how to accept things gifted to you?” The question made her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her gaze darting down to the cloak in her grip. “Of course I have, I just didn't expect it.”

“Gifts are often a surprise, are they not?” Canute´s retort earned him a roll of her eyes, along with a grumble emitting from her throat.

“Thank you, Canute.” Despite her annoyance, her words were still laced with a hint of sincerity he´d notice when paying enough attention to it. Well, when did he not pay enough attention to her for small things such as this to slip from his notice?

“You´re welcome,” he replied, the corner of his mouth pulling upward into the hint of a smile before he cleared his throat, speaking up again.“I won't keep you up for any longer. Good night Eira, sleep well.”

Nodding, a smile pulled at her lips. “Good night, Canute.” 

Chapter Text

“How odd,” a soft voice spoke out.

Estrid, in tow with Adalgund, walked through the quiet hallway of the castle. The only sounds that could be heard were emitted from their feet colliding with the stoned floor, along with the scant words the princess uttered.

The lad turned to his left, facing her. “Whatever do you mean?” he inquired with his brows furrowing slightly, the hint of wrinkles between them forming. Estrid then lifted her gaze to meet his, the usual glint of joy vanished from her iris.

Instead, she seemed to be worried. Her lips twitched into a frown, and her expression seemed, overall, to be gloomy. It was a stark difference from her previous demeanor when the two of them were alone inside the solar.

Adalgund felt his mood turn dull the moment he noticed her change. He almost winced in pain when she spoke up, hearing how void her tone was.

“What could the two possibly be talking about that´s so urgent?” her nose crinkled, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly, but enough for him to notice.

He raised a brow at her question. “What are you hinting at by that?” His words seemed to startle her, clearly catching her off guard. “I don´t understand your question.”

Their footsteps were in sync, filling the atmosphere in the somber castle. “I´m not ignorant, I can see that you´re irked by them spending time with each other without you.”

Estrid´s eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up drastically which made wrinkles on her forehead form. “What? N-no, I-” she got interrupted by him sighing loudly enough to draw her attention. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, he emphasized his frustration.

“You mustn´t be this way with me, just be honest about your feelings. There´s no need to be ashamed of how you feel, so don't ever lie to me about such a thing, alright?” Estrid nodded slowly, her posture easing up from the tenseness in her muscles.

“I´m sorry, It´s just,” she let out a huff, “Eira and Canute have grown closer lately and right now she's spending time with him instead of with us.”

“You´re scared that you've been replaced with your brother?” Estrid shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek before replying, “No, I don't. Eira wouldn't ever do such a thing, I know that much.”

Adalgund quirked a brow at her response. “Then why do you feel that way?”

Estrid seemed to be in thought, pondering a reply. She wasn't sure herself. Just why did that tight feeling curl inside her chest when the two entered the solar together? Why did Eira go out of her way to talk with him, despite feeling unwell, when she could have spent time with her and Adalgund instead?

But on the other hand, Canute did say that he was the one to pull her out of her chambers, wasn't he? So she supposed that Eira didn't have much of a choice in that matter, anyway.

But what exactly did the two want to talk in private about? What did they out of everyone have to discuss with one another that Estrid mustn't know about?

“I´m not sure,” she muttered quietly. Adalgund frowned at her, reaching out to entwine his fingers with hers. “Just try not to think about it. Instead, be happy that the two are on good terms!”

Nodding, she gently squeezed his hand, her smile returning. “I suppose you´re right.”

—----

Several hours turned the evening into the next morning, the moon switching places with the sun. The sky was void of any clouds, and the weather was identical to yesterday filled with sunshine. Instead of a gloomy night sky, it was a canvas painted with one mere color; a pastel light blue.

Birds were chirping, welcoming the spring that was visiting Jelling intending to turn into a warm summer over a few months. Flowers were basking in the sun, relishing in the rays of sunshine they received.

Eira sauntered over to the dining hall with deliberate steps, a surge of energy coursing through her as she walked. The warm weather clearly influenced her mood, for her usual groggy demeanor turned into a chirpy one in the morning.

How could it not? After all, she woke up with a magnificent view; The sun lit up flowers in various colors, making nature appear more vibrant, compared to in winter. The scenery was enough to light up everyone´s mood.

When turning around a corner, passing several servants on her way, she was met face-to-face with Canute, who appeared to be on his way to the dining hall as well. He came out of the direction of the king's chambers, into which he had moved after King Harald´s passing.

Eira widened her eyes in recognition upon noticing his company; Wulf seemed to have been engrossed in deep conversation with her uncle just a minute before, now turning around to walk off to god knows where.

Her breath hitched, her expression startled, frozen even. Eira was still unused to seeing him in a mundane setting after what happened. Immediately, she could feel her chest tighten in a painful, uncomfortable way when she saw his retreating figure. But she quickly regained her composure within seconds, not wanting Canute to notice her strange demeanor.

She called out to him, “Your Majesty!” before curtsying when she reached him.

It already felt unnatural to her to be so formal with him, even if it was only in public. Growing so comfortable with a king was perhaps not such a good idea if it meant forgetting one's courtesy.

Canute's eyes twinkled with something she couldn't decipher, squinting slightly in a way that made him appear to be smiling with his eyes only. “Princess. Or may I address you as betrothed instead?” His tone was laced with humor, making her lips twitch into a smirk.

“So early in the morning and you're already jesting?” When she was close enough, she halted in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. Canute mirrored her body language, gazing into her eyes with a hint of mirth while doing so.

“Well, what do you prefer?” he ignored her rhetorical question and referred to his previous one instead, tapping his fingers against the sleeves covering his arms. Eira stared at him with a deadpan expression, replying, “I surmise that my answer won't influence your choice on that matter. Or, perhaps make you do the opposite, then.”
“Now, why would I do such a thing?”

“To get on my nerves, of course.” Canute scoffed, feigning ignorance. “I would never pester you!” Eira raised a brow at him, making him add, “Intentionally,” to which she was now the one to scoff.

“You know very well that is far from the truth, Majesty.” She turned around to step forward, which made the blond follow her and walk beside her. “Do I?”

Eira merely rolled her eyes at him, keeping her gaze on the path in front of her. The man beside her was quite obviously amused by her, smirking to himself as he stared intently at her. Eira kept quiet instead, pondering her next words.

“Are you nervous?”

The sudden question caught him off guard, although he did quickly recover. “Why do you ask, because of the coronation?” She nodded, still staring ahead of her instead of at him.

“Not nervous, no.” His curt reply made her turn to him eventually, staring at the man incredulously, her jaw slightly agape at the casual tone he used. “You´re telling me you´re not nervous at all?”

He shook his head, his demeanor turning more stiff with each passing second. The smirk on his face vanished, instead replaced with a blank expression, his tone seemingly serious as well when he replied, “It is not my first coronation, princess. It´s nothing new to me.”

Scoffing, she regarded him with a skeptical look. “I don't believe you. No matter how often you participate in it, you´d never get used to such a grand event and regard it as mundane, uncle.”

“You talk confidently for someone who hasn´t been crowned before.” His remark physically burned her as if it were a real attack made on her, taunting her for her lack of inheritance from her late father. She gritted her teeth, gnashing them against one another in indignation.

"What's that supposed to mean?” she spat with venom, her eyes glinting with fury as she stared at him. It surprised him how quickly it angered her. It had been a sore subject for her and he wasn´t careful enough when choosing his words, leading to him being quite insensitive. Still, Canute hadn't meant to raise such a reaction out of her.

Canute was well aware of her social anxiety and therefore understood her reaction when he spoke with nonchalance about the coronation. After all, he was once exactly like her, or perhaps even worse.

He was so fearful that he could not speak in front of others, always hiding behind Ragnar. It made him appear meek and wimpy, not worthy of any respect from others. It was the reason why he viewed the topic entirely differently from Eira, knowing how horrible of a reputation he gained through it.

“When you get crowned as queen at our wedding, you'll understand what I meant,” he sighed in between his words, “Yes, you're right; it is a grant even at which you stand in front of hundreds of people, important ones at that. But it will be over quicker than you can think and afterward, you'll be surprised at how unnecessary your worry was.”

She bit her lip in frustration, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. She felt her breath quicken, her chest heaving up and down as if she had just run a mile. And if it wasn't enough, she turned hyper-aware of her surroundings, the sound emitting from their footsteps all of a sudden too loud for her.

“You speak of it as if having hundreds of different pairs of eyes on you doesn't matter to you in the slightest. I don´t understand how you´re able to do that…”

He sighed, his gaze stern as he watched her. “I was worse than you at your age. I couldn't even utter a word in the presence of others because I was so feeble, but I learned that I didn't gain much by caution.”

His words triggered several memories of the past inside her mind. Memories in which he had even longer hair than her, looked all parts of a princess instead of a prince and played in the gardens with an even younger version of herself.

The image of the seventeen-year-old and long-haired prince made her chuckle, the sound surprising Canute. He stared at her with a confused expression, not having expected her to laugh in his face when he tried to give her advice. He almost felt ridiculed by it.

When Eira noticed his confusion, she cleared her throat. “Eh- I was merely thinking of how you used to look back then. Quite the difference to now.”

Her explanation made his eyes widen. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, flushing them with a rose tint due to embarrassment. The sight made Eira burst out in laughter, seeing him blushing for the first time.

He cleared his throat, albeit still looking as bashful as ever. “Did you even listen to what I said?”

She ignored his question and asked something entirely different instead, “Why did you cut your hair?” she raised her hand to pinch a strand that sat atop his hair in a shaggy style. “It was so beautiful.” Her tone was cheeky and her words teasing. The motion ended up flustering even more,  the proximity making him smell the lavender oil from her hair.

It was clear to him how the table had turned. For he was the one to tease her on several occasions; it was only natural of her to do the same once she had received the opportunity. Therefore he had no right to blame her, did he?

Still, he felt utter embarrassment. The mere thought of how his former self was made him suppress the urge to hide himself inside his bechamber.

“You were a pretty princess, perhaps you could turn into a gorgeous queen if you let your mane grow out again?”, she asked while retracting her hand, her question leading to his displeasure. He grunted, eyes narrowing.

“Quit it,” he warned with a sharp tone, the feeling of embarrassment turning into annoyance at her pestering.

“I apologize, my queen.” Her lips were curled into a satisfied smirk, staring at him with a sense of frivolity. “It wasn´t my intention to hurt your feelings in any way. If it eases you, I can assure you that Your Majesty has plenty of manliness,” she chuckled, “Or perhaps it´s just your beard? If you shave it, then perhaps you´ll rival even Freya herself!”

Canute groaned, his brows furrowed. He could feel anger bubbling up inside of him, but he tried his best to maintain it, to keep it caged inside so it couldn't rise to the surface. Only a few more steps and then they'd arrive at the dining hall, that´s what he kept reminding himself of. “You´re being insufferable.”

“That was my intention, Your Majesty.” She curtsied next to him in a joking manner, grinning similar to how a child would after succeeding in hiding sweets from its parents who wanted to take them from it.

Cheeky.

“I´m aware,” he replied curtly before halting in front of the set of doors, which quickly were opened by a thegn. Canute didn't waste any time entering the dining hall, seating himself at the head of the table.

Eira followed him, still smiling from ear to ear, feeling a great sense of victory at provoking him in such a way after she had suffered for so long under his teasing words. A taste of his medicine truly did wonders, didn´t it?

Soon after, Estrid came inside, although there was no Adalgund in sight.
The realization made Eira shoot her a confused glance. “Estrid, where's the freckled lad?” The blonde giggled at the description, covering her mouth with her palm while she walked over to her seat.

“He preferred to eat in solitude, but I'm not sure why.” Her answer made Eira raise a brow, but she didn't ask further.

Truth be told, Adalgund was an anxious mess when in the presence of Canute. He was intimated by the thought of dining with the king of England and the soon-to-be king of Denmark. Why would a man as powerful as him dine with a meek nobleman as Adalgund?

Not only that, but the weight of Canute's intent stare was enough to make him get a heart attack from the way his heartbeat would pick up. Therefore, he preferred not to eat breakfast at the same table as Canute.

“If he isn't unwell, we could do something fun after breakfast then. The weather is as good, if not even better than yesterday.”

Estrid sipped on a goblet filled with orange juice, the cold and refreshing liquid flowing down her throat as she gulped. “I can't. I already didn't attend yesterday's embroidery lesson. Therefore I must do it today.”

Eira rolled her eyes at the princess. “Oh no, one day without attending the embroidery lesson you´re already good at! As if you'd miss out on anything important you don't already know.” Her ironic tone didn´t go unnoticed by her friend, who frowned at her.

“Of course, you're saying that, you never attend them yourself!” That indeed was something Eira couldn't argue with…

“Fine, then go to your boring embroidery lesson. Adalgund and I will do something without you, then.” she shrugged, speaking with a tone of nonchalance while facing the blonde opposite to her.

“I promise we can spend time together afterward! But I truly don't want to be so careless again.” Her tone was laced with sorrow as if the decision was hurting her.

"It's alright, you mustn't worry,” Eira assured her before stuffing her mouth with several grapes she picked from a bowl.
Spending time alone with Adalgund was a perfect opportunity to speak with him since Eira did notice a change in his behavior that made her more apprehensive. It made her wonder if something had happened, which then resulted in his peculiar change in demeanor.

Perhaps she could invite him to shoot down targets with the help of a bow, similar to the last time he was at Jelling. That way, the both of them would be outside and could bask in the sun, exercise, and still be out of earshot to converse privately.

—-

After breakfast, Eira visited Adalgund's chambers and persuaded him to train with her. It was relatively easy to do so since he wasn't reluctant to spend time with her.

Still, she noticed his absent demeanor, no matter what they did.

When shooting a bow, he didn't even observe his target but merely glanced at it, as if he did not care at all.

When they conversed, he kept staring at the ground, as if he were lost in thought and not paying any real attention to the world around him.

When picking up each arrow he shot, Eira could see the pained expression he wore, the look on his face that conveyed the emotions he kept buried inside.

When he got hold of another arrow to shoot, not even putting in the effort to have a proper stance, Eira grabbed him by his shoulder, pulling him out of the train of thought that drove through his mind in endless circles.

“Are you alright?” her voice was heavy with concern, her lips downturned and brows pulled together into a frown. For a few seconds, he only stared at her, blinking.

When she let go of his shoulder, he replied, “Are my skills that miserable?” his unintentional jest normally would´ve made her chuckle, but now she only shook her head. “No, I mean you. It´s as if you´re not even here. Perhaps physically, but not mentally.”

When she noticed his lack of an answer, she said, “You seem troubled. "What's wrong?” She wondered if the matter had been regarding his father´s health, or perhaps Estrid had already spoken to him of her betrothal to Wulf.

“I-” he was immediately interrupted by her adding,” And don't make up a lie. I noticed your behavior yesterday already.”

The boy sighed, lowering his hand with which he held the bow, the other loosening its grip on the arrow, resulting in it falling flat onto the grass.

“I didn't plan on lying,” he muttered before pursing his lips. His gaze followed the arrow, observing how it lay there, unmovingly.

It was thrown, carelessly discarded, and put to its own demise without having a say in the matter. But the object accepted its fate, even if it could do no other thing, it was admirable. It laid quietly between each grass strand, resigned with its fate.

It was a beautiful sight to him, the one who let the arrow fall to the ground without a second thought.

“My father's dead.” His blunt confession made Eira stiffen, growing uncomfortable with each passing minute. Warum? Because it reminded her of her own father's passing. The day was still so awfully clear in her mind, and she´d rather not spend any second thinking about it.

“...You have my deepest sympathies,” she eventually spoke up, her voice straining with each word that slipped past her lips. She then stared at him, unsure how to comfort him in such a moment.

Her struggle didn't only come from not knowing how to comfort a person in need, but because it reminded her so much of her father. It was the moment in which she realized how much she truly missed him. Eira didn't actively think of him every day, but the loss of his presence was heavy, even if she didn´t realize it before.

“Thank you,” he replied. His words came out in a choked manner as if he were on the verge of tears. It made her wrap her arms around him from behind, squeezing him softly in an embrace.

Words often weren't enough to portray one's thoughts. Physical acts succeeded in such moments the best.

Eira could feel him tremble in her grasp, his form shaking slightly before he put his hand over her right one that was covering his shoulder, squeezing it gently.
Her mind was rushing to several thoughts, worries pestering her she wasn't even aware of.

Would her father look down upon her? Be disappointed in how she turned out to be? Disgusted and horrified by her choice to wed her uncle? His approval was still utterly important to her, despite his death.

How he'd perceive her should be irrelevant now. He was a dead man, after all. Buried six feet into the ground, lifeless and rotting away in a dark, cramped space with maggots crawling all over him, eating his every bit until there would be no trace of his body left, besides the wooden casket that remained in the same space for a few more years, before nature would engulf it as well.

But she couldn't help it. She grew up with that goal influencing every decision of hers. It was only natural for her to still have that thought in mind, to have the desire to make him proud.

But she had to let that go. Eira had to abandon that desire in order to live without that burden weighing her down throughout every day. But how could she?

How could she let go of the memory that stayed behind? The memory of the man who was once the dearest person in her life, who raised and taught her well, despite his growing absence due to royal duties.

All of a sudden, she felt the urge to open the blue-colored book again. To read each poem out loud inside her chamber, as if he were listening to her, laying in his bed like it used to be.

I miss you, father.

The silence between them grew thicker, enveloping them wholly until it was eventually filled with the sound of quiet sobs emitting from the lad in her embrace. Eira still refrained from speaking up, knowing that the moment of shared silence was perhaps a better way to comfort him.

Softly, she began to draw circles over his shoulder with her other hand, resting her chin on it while doing so. Her warm breath was close to his own, both of them inhaling the same air, the same gust of wind that quietly made its way through the trees.

Leaves rustled and several strands of hair moved through the wind. But the wind passed. As soon as it had arrived, it was already gone, the only evidence of its existence being the few leaves that were left stranded on the ground, ripped from their branches and blown into the air.

As quick as that, the moment had turned into a memory.

His sobs died down, leaving only a tear-stricken face with reddened eyes behind. His bottom lip was slightly trembling, albeit he soon recovered from the moment. Eira let go of him, moving to stand beside him instead.

Without realizing it, her sight had turned blurry. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, which were slowly flowing down her cheek when she rapidly blinked them away upon realizing. She raised her arm, rubbing her cheeks dry with the fabric of her gown.

Then, she turned to Adalgund, whose head snapped in her direction. His gaze widened when he took notice of her state, but his expression quickly changed into a sorrowful one.

Right. He still remembered the conversation he had with Estrid in front of King Harald´s grave. He could still recall how Estrid spoke of Eira´s struggle to cope with her father's death and instead ignored the matter altogether.

He surmised that the bottled-up emotions were coming up to the surface now since he caused it with his own loss.

Eira ended up clearing her throat, the feeling of uneasiness seeping through her. “When did he die?”

Adalgund fumbled with the fabric of his gambeson, averting his gaze onto the arrow lying between the grass strands. “A day after I arrived at home. I'll officially be the lord of house Andersen after his funeral.”

“And how do you feel about that?” she carefully asked, staring at the wet splotches on her sleeve. Due to its thin fabric, the sleeve wetted her arm underneath it in an uncomfortable way.

“I´m not ready to take on such an important role. I-I'm a horrible person. I don't deserve to inherit my father's inheritance." His voice cracked and he bit his lip to concentrate on refraining from crying any further.

Eira watched him with wide eyes, quickly shaking her head at his words. “What makes you say such a thing? You're not horrible!” She gripped both of his shoulders, squeezing them harshly as if the action would make him stray from such thoughts.

“You´re far from horrible Adalgund, don't ever think otherwise.” It was now his turn to shake his head, his jaw tensing visibly. He hesitated, pondering his next words while keeping his gaze glued on the arrow.

“Do you still remember our conversation the last time we were here? When I asked if you had ever hurt someone before?”

The memory was still clear to her. It was one of the first conversations they had, both of them standing at the same spot they were now in. The only difference was the scenery; cold and lifeless.

Their bond was similar to it; still tense and they spoke to one another with formality and without any affection. Now, their relationship had blossomed into a true friendship, lively and vibrant like the flowers growing horizontally into the sun´s direction as if they were seeking its guidance and aid.

Their conversation made her remember the day in which she deliberately took someone's life. The memory that scarred her for life, the day that changed her view on life.

To witness how fragile a human truly was, how easy it was to die, was truly surreal. No matter how important or how mighty a person might be, they could be disposed of quite easily.

“I do remember. Why do you ask?” Adalgund kept quiet, unmoving; similar to the arrow on the ground.

“I asked you that day because I sought reassurance. It was irrelevant on how or from whom, but I still needed it.” With a sigh, he swallowed the spit that had formed, shifting his stance to dig the front of his foot into the dirt.

“My father´s inheritance was never mine to take. I had an older brother, who was the perfect heir to house Andersen. He was three years older than me but better in every way. He was a mature and skilled boy and I admired him for it.”

His shoe was besmirched with particles of dirt, stained a deep brown. A small pit was forming beneath his foot, turning deeper each time he continued to dig deeper.

“I looked up to him and begged him to train with me. Therefore, we practiced our swordsmanship every day, growing better each time we trained together. But one day-” his voice cracked again, and now Eira could see the tears escaping his eye and staining his cheek.

“During practice, he stumbled and I mistook it for an ambush and blocked his ´attack´ with my sword. Obviously, he didn't attack me and therefore had no sword to clash against mine with, leading to him stumbling right into the steel.”

Wincing at the story, Eira bit her lip. She felt the urge to run up to him and engulf him in another embrace, but she wasn´t sure if it was the right thing to do at that moment, for he wasn't seeking comfort. He was blaming himself for a horrible act; he needed someone to listen.

So she did exactly that. Listen.

“My sword collided with his throat, slashing it deep enough to be fatal. He died directly after choking on his own blood. I-I can´t ever get the sight out of my head.”

"I-I'm terrible, Eira. I´ve murdered my brother because of my incompetence,” he cursed himself with a doleful expression.

Eventually, she parted her lips to speak. “It was an accident, Adalgund. You won't ever get the sight out of your head if you keep blaming yourself for it!”

He shook his head at her, biting the inside of his cheek harshly. “I am the one to be blamed for it! It would have never happened if I had been just cautious.”
“It is not your fault, Adal. Accidents happen and there's nothing you can change about it. Regretting that day will get you nowhere, despite your misery perhaps.” Her words were harsh, too harsh to be uttered without a second thought.

She shouldn't have worded it like that. But her urgency to try and make him stop blaming himself for it didn't allow her to rethink her choice of words.

Still, she felt disgusted by herself when she saw him flinch, her heart aching at the sight. “I-I didn't mean it like that, I-” she got interrupted by him, who gazed ahead with glassy eyes. “No, I deserve it.”

With another forceful shove into the ground, several bits of dirt flew out of the pit while he stuck his shoe out of the hole he made. The besmirched material of it symbolized how he felt; dirtied by his sin.

“And now I'll take the inheritance that was never meant for me. The inheritance of my brother, the man whose life I took. Just how am I supposed to live with that?”

“Your brother wouldn´t want you to blame yourself and he would never want you to torment yourself like this, Adal.” The boy shook his head, more to himself than as a reaction to her words.

It made her sigh, frustrated with the nature of that conversation. “Your brother would at least want you to take over your father's inheritance. To do it in his stead, since he wasn't able to.”

Gods, Estrid would truly be a better person to have such a conversation with him, instead of Eira. Not only was she overly blunt at times, but she was also miserable at comforting others and quickly felt awkward by doing such things.

The boy kept quiet, pondering Eira's advice. It didn´t help with his guilt, but perhaps it was a way to correct his mistake, to do right and outbalance his wrong.

“Think about it, at least. Who else would take on your father´s inheritance?” Adalgund lowered his head, slowly nodding as he heeded her plea.

“Did you speak to Estrid about it?”

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. “No, I haven't. Please don't tell her, I don't want her to know such vile things about me.” A sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head as if disappointed in what he said.

Why hide things about oneself if those secrets only contribute to eating oneself away? Adalgund was damaging himself while keeping quiet. Thanks to their talk, he had at least the opportunity to confide in one person and seek comfort, which was necessary for a person like him.

Eira was sure that Estrid wouldn't ever judge him for something he didn´t even initiate. It was a mere accident, nothing more. Adalgund was no murderer, no. The sole fact that he painted himself as such truly pained her.

“Don´t worry, I won't. You're the one who should speak to her about it, not me.” Still, Eira couldn´t help but be confused. If she was able to notice such strange behavior from him, then Estrid would also, there was no doubt of that.

But if they haven´t spoken to one another about that, then why didn't she ever mention it? Estrid wouldn't ignore something like that, no. She was much too worrisome for that.

Perhaps she did speak to him about her betrothal already and blamed his strange demeanor on that? Eira wasn't sure…

Adalgund shook his head. “I won´t.” It frustrated her to no end, knowing that he was only hurting himself by doing that. Estrid was the perfect person to confide in, but his fear of rejection halted him from doing so.

“Do as you wish. It is your decision, after all.” Eira couldn't stop the disappointed stare she shot his way.

—--

Despite the dismal nature of their conversation, the two stayed outside and picked up the few arrows that were left implanted into the targets. After that, they lay together in a starfish position across the grass, the cold green strands tickling their skin as they basked in the sun.

They lay in the same position, the time dwindling until Estrid came along to join their side. Together, they spent the rest of the day in the royal gardens, relishing in the shadow the willow tree provided them while listening to a minstrel playing several melodies at their request.

Eira already dreaded the day that was to come. Not only would she have to get up early to travel to the church, but she´d also have to listen to endless prayers and religious blabber. After that, a feast would take place at court in which she´d have to socialize once again.

And the most important thing of it all, her betrothal to Canute would be announced. Come to think of it, how could Eira possibly explain that to Estrid and Adalgund? How could she justify to her Christian friends a betrothal with a man she had such close kinship with? The mere thought of it horrified her and made her not want to visit the coronation at all.

Well, at least there was wine to indulge in…

Chapter Text

The day had begun quite early.

Canute had been awoken at the beginning of dawn, the sun yet too shy to fully rise in all its glory. It felt physically wrong for him to get up from the comforting bed when he saw the dark sky outside the window.

His first urge was to wrap himself in a blanket and shut his eyes again, but he couldn't. After all, he was to be crowned as king of the Danes today.

The fact itself brought a surge of satisfaction coursing through his chest, for it was a crucial part of his plan, his goal to bring paradise to earth. No matter the sacrifice he had to make, it was all worth it. In the end, each pawn he used, and each nimble life he destroyed, all brought him closer to his goal. It didn´t matter how much each action took its toll on his mental health, nor how extreme he began to hate himself for it.

In the end, it was worth it.

And that wasn't the only thing that made him optimistic about his plan; he had gained allies along the way. Allies who shared his dream, who'd help him achieve that said goal, and share the heavy burden he bore on his shoulders.

The servant who knocked on his door brought a new attire for him to wear during the coronation, leaving it on the desk for him to pick up after.

He preferred to get ready by himself since tasks such as dressing oneself were as mundane as it was simple. Well, for a man, yes.

He sighed to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he sat upright, glancing at the attire that waited to be put on. It was a plain set of clothing, colored white to emphasize his humility and Christian honor.

Groggily, he tossed the blanket aside before finally rising to his feet and dressed himself for the day that was to come. He did it sluggishly, although he urged himself to be done with it as soon as possible.

When that part was over, he went to his study, unlocking it before he entered the messy place. Still chaotic, several scrolls and books were cluttered on any possible surface left, all amassed into wonky piles that threatened to fall onto the ground with a heavy thud.

The sight was a usual one, therefore he merely shrugged before he opened a drawer, reaching for a small, wooden chest inside. Opening it, he picked up a bracelet that rested atop a velvet cushion, beside a blue-colored fillet. The small piece of jewelry was made from gold, oval-shaped orbs of sapphire embedded in it.

The fillet, similar to the red one he wore on various occasions, such as right now, was embedded with ornamental emblems of metallic material. The headpiece was almost identical to his, despite its color.

He chose for it to be made, for her to own a distinguished accessory that rendered her as the future queen.

He intended to give the two items to Eira after the coronation as a token of binding loyalty. The sapphire orbs of the bracelet were a contrast to the ruby ones that were embedded into the Danish crown he'd soon wear. The patterns engraved into the gold were identical to the ones the crown had, the similarities between the two objects being vast.

Despite the tradition of gifting one's betrothed things such as a piece of jewelry, a small part of him still hoped that she´d appreciate the jewelry.

After a close inspection, he stuffed the bracelet into his pocket and put the headpiece back inside the chest, closing it before he sat down at his desk, reading through every scroll that was yet to be opened. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, were threatening to close each time his gaze shifted from one sentence to the next.

After this duty was fulfilled, he immediately switched to the next. He was accompanied to the grand hall by Gunnar, in which the feast would later be held after the coronation had taken place inside the Jelling church.

Dozens of chests, filled to the brim with jewelry, swords, and coins in a huge variety from bronze to gold. Gunnar held up a list of names, which were entitled to the treasure. Nobles, vassals, and clergy were all represented on the parchment in the man´s hand, their names implemented on it with ink spilled.

Together with Ser Gunnar's help, Canute inspected the list and verified the content inside each chest, the task itself taking long enough for the sun to have fully risen in the meantime.

It was most noticeable due to the hall being lit up, the rays of the sun shining through each of the several high and wide windows. It was then time for his departure, for which he was accompanied into the courtyard, where a handful of carriages were stationed.

No wind was in sight, the air as still as it was peaceful, birds chirping happily and no cloud visible in the sky. Despite the absent company, the sun was shining bright in all its glory, seemingly cheerful, which had been in Canute´s favor, regarding the ceremony that was supposed to be held today.

The blond was led to a capacious carriage, stepping inside the space before seating himself next to a small window. Even though the scenery was breathtaking, he closed the red velvety drapes, shielding himself from the sunlight.

Soon after, Eira and Gunnar entered the carriage as well, the princess seated herself beside the blond king with the scrawny male opposing them. Eira faced her uncle, inspecting his expression with a scrutinizing look, searching for any hint of doubt or nervosity.

When the only thing she found was the exhaustion etched onto his face, she settled on giving him a tired smile herself, her eyes droopy and puffy from sleep. Canute felt the corner of his lips twitch upward when he faced her, his eyes squinting slightly as he returned her smile.

It was quite a memorable sight. No cocky smirk of his; only a genuine, soft -albeit tired- smile.

Eira´s eyes widened, her chest swelling with an indescribable type of warmth. Sheepish, she averted her gaze and stared at the ceiling instead, her breath slow and shallow.

Gunnar, who watched the pair with a raised brow, cleared his throat to catch Canute´s attention, opening his mouth to utter (In Eira´s opinion) uninteresting nonsense about the coronation that was soon to be.

When Eira was about to whine about not wanting to wait any longer, the last pair of passengers arrived. Estrid, with Wulf by her side, stepped inside and sat next to Gunnar, opposing Canute and Eira.

The sight shouldn't have surprised Eira. After all, Wulf was betrothed to her aunt and therefore soon to be tied to the royal family of Denmark. It was only natural for him to travel in the same carriage as his betrothed, as much as the sight irked Eira.

Estrid herself didn't look all too comfortable, but tense instead. Only a fool wouldn´t notice the stiff way they interacted with one another, how rigid they sat beside each other. It was painfully obvious that they hadn't interacted much before, based on how distant they seemed to be.

But that fact didn't ease her at all. Subconsciously, she grew stiff in posture herself. Canute quickly took notice of the change in her demeanor, glancing at her through his eyelashes with a thoughtful expression. He knew why, for he was the one to betroth Wulf to Estrid because of that exact reason.

He knew how selfish it was of him to do so, how wrong it was to make such a decision. Still, he couldn´t help himself but be bothered by the fact his betrothed harbored feelings for another. Eira was to be his wife, was she not?

Who knew, perhaps she was still acquainted with him, despite the restriction they found themselves bound to. Perhaps Eira and Wulf were still seeing each other furtively, being paramours in secret.

Canute had no way of knowing if that was true. Despite the scant interactions he witnessed between those two, there was still no way of excluding that possibility. That fact alone infuriated him, not wanting to see his betrothed in the arms of another man.

Those possessive thoughts only led to his irritation, which was why he quickly disregarded them. Canute didn´t want to think of such things right before the coronation, right when he needed to have a clear and collected head.

Reluctantly, he switched his gaze onto Gunnar, who continuously talked his ear off for the rest of the short journey, boring each passenger to no end. The others were quiet, apart from Wulf who occasionally chimed in whenever the conversation had its focus on political matters.

To put it short, Estrid and Eira were utterly uncomfortable and bored for the half hour they traveled and couldn't have been any more glad when they finally arrived at their destination.

The carriage halted right outside the grand church of Jelling, the venerable and imposing building decorated with banners of the Jelling dynasty on each side of its gateway. A tall, wooden cross was implemented above it, emphasizing the lord´s presence in that holy place.

A group of guards stood outside, making sure that none of the common folk who were gathered in high numbers around the church would try to enter the building.

Several carriages were already littered around the church, some of them belonging to the clergy, while others were owned by Jarls of noble houses or foreign guests. The amount of it intimidated Eira, who was already beginning to count in her head how possibly high the number of the congregation could be.

It would be much higher than she thought.

Interlocking her arm with Estrid´s, Eira stepped outside the carriage after Canute, Wulf, and Gunnar followed the pair, exiting the vehicle. A soft breeze passed by, the fresh air bringing a surge of energy to the group.

As if on cue, the common folk began to cheer at the sight of royals, moving in a desperate attempt to near themselves. The guards prevented that, pushing any defiant peasant away from the carriage and threatening with their swords.

That only served to unnerve Eira, who watched with a startled expression.

A short while after, a man dressed in long, white robes that were touching the dirtied pavement of the street, exited the church to stand in front of the entrance, bowing deeply when he saw the royal carriage, along with its passengers standing in front of it.

The man had deep wrinkles etched onto his face, each emphasizing his old age. The man appeared wise, his eyes narrowed and hazy. Crucifixes were embroidered into his robes, highlighting his holy appearance.

“Your Majesty, you stand at the gate of God's house. Do you come in peace and with a heart ready to serve Christ's people?” His voice sounded as elderly as he looked to be, stern and hoarse, void of any emotion.

Canute, who stood in front of the group, nodded. “Yes, I am, Your Grace.” The old man raised his hand in a manner of blessing. “Then enter with the grace of the lord upon you.” He motioned for Canute to follow, which the blond didn't hesitate in doing.

Walking a few feet behind the two men, Eira turned around to face Gunnar and Wulf. “Who was that man?” she quirked a brow, awaiting an answer from either of the two.

“The Archbishop of Lund. An important individual of the churches of the North Sea,” Gunnar quickly replied while fiddling with his mustache, poised as he spoke. “He´s the man who´ll crown His Majesty,” Wulf elaborated in a calm tone, his expression passive.

She hummed in reply, stepping inside the holy interior of the church with Estrid by her side. The scenery overwhelmed her; both frightening and amazing at once. The church was filled with hundreds of people, all standing in several rows in front of the altar.

The walls were decorated with religious tapestry, all having Christian symbols embroidered onto them. The air- previously filled with murmurs of the congregation- now became quiet upon the king´s arrival, the only sound coming from the clerics chanting.

The intense scent of incense filled her nostrils, so much that she wasn't able to pick up on any other smell at all. Paired together with the high amount of eyes staring at her, she felt herself almost crumble right at the spot.

Eira could never understand how this had no impact on Canute, how he didn´t ever feel pressured by having this many people stare at him, watching his every move.

Canute was led by the Archbishop toward the altar, walking through the emptied path in the middle of the congregation. His posture was straightened, his expression stoic and his gaze always kept in front of him.

The other royals walked to the front of the congregation, standing in the first line to the altar. Estrid could feel Eira´s grip on her arm tighten, therefore she noticed her tensed demeanor. Soothingly, she began to draw circles on the back of her hand, although her gaze never strayed from Canute.

The said man now stood at the altar, accompanied by the old man dressed in white. The archbishop, his body facing the congregation, spoke loudly to Canute, “Before God almighty, before the people of this realm: do you swear to rule justly, to defend the Christian faith, and to protect the people of this kingdom?”

A cleric brought a bible and a small bottle filled with holy oil, handing it to the archbishop of Lund as Canute kneeled. The blond reached forward to place his hand on the cover, swearing the oath with a steady voice.

“I swear it by the holy cross and by my soul.” The book was then retracted before the old man opened the tiny bottle in his hand. The sound of the cleric's chanting only added to the discomfort Eira felt.

She was breathing through her mouth, due to the unpleasant intensity of the incense that was burned at the altar.

Everyone watched as the man anointed Canute´s head and chest with the sacred liquid, the act symbolizing the divine favor he was graced with. The deed served to turn him into a consecrated ruler, chosen by God himself.

Quickly after, a group of clerics carried different relics to the altar. Such was a royal cloak- embroidered with rich patterns and woven out of expensive fabric- draped over his shoulders, a golden ring -enlaced with rubies- slipped onto his index finger, a sword- its steel shining as bright as it was fierce- and lastly; a golden crown- decorated with oval orbs of ruby- placed onto his head by the archbishop of Lund.

Eira felt a twinge of bitterness at the sight; of the crown that her father wore. The crown that perhaps she could have worn, had it not been for her sex.

“With this crown, may you rule justly and wise, King Canute,” the old man exclaimed with a stern expression, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. The congregation began to kneel, except for Estrid and Eira, who merely bowed as members of the royal family.

Immediately after, every person in the audience began to cheer loudly, calling out things such as, “Long live King Canute.” In the background, bells tolled, alarming the common folk who were assembled outside the church. Upon hearing the emitted noise, the gathered people from outside were chanting as well.

Slowly, Canute rose to his feet, his chin held high as he glanced over the grand audience before him. He felt content at the sight, having prevailed at one more thing, making him get closer to his end goal.

His gaze halted at one person in particular; Eira. She stood in the first row, her expression pensive as she stared ahead of her, her eyes locked on the crown that sat atop his head. He felt a wave of compassion overcome him as he watched her, knowing exactly what she was thinking of. His eyes softened, glinting with a tenderness he wasn't even aware of.

But when Eira met his gaze, she didn't frown.

She smiled.

It was a bittersweet one, mixed with a hint of sadness. But it had been a smile nonetheless. It made him almost widen his eyes had he not paid attention to how he portrayed himself in front of the audience.

Her smile caught him off guard. He hadn't expected her to show any sign of encouragement, for he was the one to practically steal something that she also had a claim on. But she didn´t. Instead, she only showed kindness to him, despite her own feelings.

The realization made him feel warm inside, uncomfortably so. He could almost feel the heat rise to his cheeks, but thankfully it hadn't come to it. Suddenly he felt special and important. Not as a king, not as a royal, but as a mere person.

It was the first time he had ever taken such an act of kindness for granted, for it came from her. Eira, the blunt princess who wasn´t friendly with many and never put in the effort to feign cherishing someone. The person who only held a few people close to her heart.

Was he one of them?

He could hear the voice of his father whispering in his ear, ridiculing him for taking such a realization for granted. “She´s a mere pawn, nothing more. Have you forgotten, son?”

Canute bit the inside of his cheek, ignoring the voice as he stepped forward, extending his hand to each noble that came forth to kneel in front of him and kiss his hand.

The line that formed in front of him reached from the altar, up to the very entrance of the church, with jarls and vassals pledging their allegiance to the newly crowned king. A hymn was sung, the sound filling the entirety of the church´s interior.

Eira quietly watched the scene before her, her grip on Estrid loosening with each passing second, feeling the tension disappear from her body, a wave of calm splashing over her.

The crucial moment had passed, and the crown was officially placed on Canute's head. Eira´s once most cherished and desired dream to succeed her father was trampled under her feet, now a mere imagination and out of reach.

But she had accepted it. Perhaps she was not wearing his crown herself, but she'd rule over Denmark. Rule, together with Canute and pursue a goal that almost sounded too good to be true. But together, Eira was sure it was achievable.

It didn't take long until the line slowly diminished, each guest going into their previous position in several rows. The archbishop stood beside the king, bowing before him as motioned with an extended arm toward the entrance.

“Go forth, Canute, crowned by God´s hand and ours. Guard your people, defend His church, and rule with justice.” Horns started to sound in the background, signaling the end of the coronation.

Canute bowed as well, a sign of respect to the archbishop, who stood at the altar as God's representative. Then, the holy man walked forward, a group of clerics flanking him while chanting hymns, leading the way to the church´s entrance.

Canute followed, now leaving the altar behind as he sauntered outside the building. The congregation watched- some in awe, some in indignation. The two princesses, accompanied by Canute´s two closest advisors, walked a few feet behind him.

Outside the church, the gathered crowd chanted excitedly, each person trying their best to get a glimpse of the new king of Denmark- some pushing others to the side, jostling in the amassed group.

A herald, standing outside the entrance, faced the crowd and boasted, “Behold the King Canute, crowned by god and law!” The cheers picked up in volume after the exclamation, the peasants going berserk with excitement.

Canute gaze fleeted over the people's faces, his stern gaze locking onto the desperate, amazed ones of his subjects.

Those were the people who were in plight, who needed saving. Not by the Lord, but by Canute himself. He promised himself to turn the world into a better place, to achieve ultimate peace.

It wouldn´t matter how much blood would be shed in the process.

The same carriage from before stood outside, a guard holding the door open for him to enter. With deliberate steps, he sauntered to the vehicle and went inside without hesitation. His kin and advisors followed, entering the carriage and seating themselves in their prior spots.

Wulf, who sat beside Estrid, stole longing glances at the opposing princess, subtle resignation etched onto his face. As soon as the door was shut, the previous tension reappeared.

Canute reached forward to move the drapes aside, observing the scenery from the small window. The crowd was still cheering, their expression hopeful and desperate as they all stood around the royal carriage.

The sight of them, many of whom were dressed in poor clothing, albeit still watching with desperation in hopes of being helped, made his heartache. Despite their suffering, God had turned a blind eye to them, refusing to offer aid in any way.

The thought left a sour taste on his tongue, his brooding demeanor observing the common folk outside.

Eira, sitting near him, raised her head to inspect the crown atop his head with a scrutinizing gaze. The red orbs, along with the engraved patterns, harmonized well with the shining gold. And she noted how beautiful it looked on his head, the crown matching his regal appearance.

It was bittersweet. Canute was a perfect candidate for the crown; it was only natural for her father to choose him as his successor. But a part of her was still saddened, the insecure thought of not having been enough for her father torturing her.

Not aware of how long she had been staring, she was startled when Canute suddenly turned to face her, his icy blue eyes glinting with a glint she was unable to decipher. Their gazes met, her eyes going round in slight surprise.

“It suits you, Your Majesty,” she glanced up at the regalia, “The crown, I mean.” He gave her a soft smile, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he gazed at her. “Thank you, Princess.”

Eira averted her gaze, staring at her hands, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. She felt uncomfortable sitting in a carriage, only filled with silence, despite the amount of passengers sitting inside of it.

She didn't speak any further, not wanting to converse with Canute out in the open, right when three other individuals were in earshot and especially not when Wulf sat right in front of her. Normally she spoke freely with him, often feeling at ease- excluding the moments he teased her- and without any restrictions.

But now, with Gunnar and Wulf traveling with them, Eira could only stick to formal topics and small talk. It was the exact thing she despised, which was why she instead chose to keep her mouth shut for the entirety of the trip.

With Estrid it was the same matter. There were several things she wished to talk to her about- many regarding Adalgund- but those weren't topics to pick up on when others were able to listen.

Not only that, but Eira still felt unease coursing through her body. Why? Because she was still trying to wrap her head around how to explain the reasoning behind her betrothal to her friend. Estrid, who was a devout Christian, would be horrified when it would be announced.

But how was she supposed to talk about it? Or better ask, what was she even supposed to tell her? “Oh, I am marrying your brother, who's also my uncle, to rule over Denmark!”

She almost winced at that thought, pursing her lips in discomfort and agony. Eira didn't wish to ponder it anymore, the train of thought leading nowhere helpful.

The carriage was on a longer path than the one they rode to the church with, instead now deliberately riding through the entire settlement of Jelling for the common folk to see the king´s carriage with their own eyes.

The cheers were loud enough to fill the silence inside the carriage, disrupting the tense atmosphere inside with the cheerful sounds from outside.

Sometime after, the carriage halted, having arrived at court again. The king was led first outside the entrance, the princesses following after with the two men in pursuit.

The courtyard was filled with other carriages from the nobles that traveled back to court after the coronation had finished, the entire congregation was amassed inside the grand hall of the castle, awaiting King Canute's arrival and beginning of the feast.

A group of thegns led the way towards the hall, the others following quickly after. Their footsteps echoed through the halls, each sound of their feet colliding with the stoned floor filling the silence.

Eira glanced ahead in anticipation, her gaze momentarily locking onto Canute's figure who walked in front of her, his stride confident and collected; a true king.

She felt her anxiety spike, knowing that the announcement of their betrothal would soon take place.

As they reached the destination, a herald announced their presence, boasting through the entire hall, leading to each guest's head turning around to watch the members of the royal family enter.

The interior was slightly different from its usual appearance. Tapestry, visualizing symbols of Christianity, such as saints or crosses decorated the stoned walls. The throne, placed atop the wooden platform at the end of the hall as it usually was, had now been accompanied by a desk right in front of it, along with other seats at each side.

The guests were sitting in a deliberate order at different tables; at the tables close to the platform- close to the king´s throne- were individuals such as Jarls or nobles seated, such as Adalgund, who smiled upon their entrance.

The clergy, along with the archbishop, were seated in a more reclusive area, near the platform, albeit right at a corner. Private, and quiet. Vassals such as thegns were seated near the entrance, further away from the throne.

Everyone inside the hall quickly stood upright, bowing as the King and his kin passed them. Eira, as tense as ever, gave Adagund a forced smile, her lips pressed tightly together. Upon reaching the table on the elevated platform, she seated herself beside the throne, Estrid and Wulf opposing her.

If Adalgund had yet not known of Estrid´s betrothal, he would have now, for the two sat beside one another at the table, only meant for members of the royal family. At the realization, Eira involuntarily threw a glance at Adalgund, whose expression was indescribable.

Canute, who moved towards the throne, stood right in front of it while facing the crowd before him. The crowd watched in anticipation, while Eira kept her gaze glued to her own hands, noticing how they were trembling, shaking from the anxiety.

Her heart was almost beating outside her chest when she heard him speak up. “You all have come from near and far to stand witness and pledge your allegiance to your new king. Your presence honors the crown, for which I give you my thanks.”

His chin was held high as his gaze swept over the entire gathering, his expression stoic. “Today marks not only a crowning but a binding as well.” She shut her eyes momentarily, concentrating on her shallow breath.

“My first proclamation as king of Denmark is my betrothal to Princess Eira, daughter of the late King Harald and my niece.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Canute spoke those words out loud, Eira felt her blood run cold. But knowing that the attention of hundreds was now drawn to her, she plastered on a smile, a forced one, nonetheless.

She raised her head, glancing up at Canute, who had now pulled a bracelet out of his pocket, the jewelry shining brightly in his palm. Her eyes widened when she saw it; the details of the object were quite similar to those of the crown he wore.

The only change was the gemstones embedded in it. Instead of a deep red like rubies, it was a rich, deep blue like sapphires. The color itself made her tense immediately, but the similarity between the bracelet and the regalia atop his head made her watch in awe.

She stood up with a soft smile on her face, a twinge of sincerity poured into her expression when he reached forward to place it around her wrist. The cold gold led to goosebumps littering across her skin, the bracelet itself weighing heavily on her arm.

“As I am king, you shall be queen,” he now spoke directly to her, his voice yet loud enough for others to hear. His words weighed as heavy as the bracelet she was gifted, making her breath hitch.

Interlocking eyes with him, she saw the tender gaze of his, scrutinizing her own, searching for any sign of discomfort. His skin grazed against hers, the touch of his calloused hand bringing comfort in such a crucial and tense moment.

“This bond is declared,” he faced the crowd again, “Let any man who contests it stand forward or hold his tongue and bend the knee.” His words were met with utter silence, none daring to move or speak.

Eira´s gaze wandered over to the ones sitting at the table in front of her, biting her lip with anxiety when she saw their expressions. Estrid´s eyes were wide with horror, her jaw agape as she stared at the two newly betrothed.

Wulf, sitting beside her, looked equally mortified. His brows were furrowed, his one eye shot open.

Eira bit her lip, quickly averting her gaze from them to instead observe the quiet crowd in front of her. Slowly, the archbishop of Lund rose to his feet, standing at the table at which the many priests and bishops were seated. Lifting his hands, he signed a crucifix before speaking up, his voice clear and loud for others to hear.

“May the Lord look with favor upon this union proclaimed. May he bless King Canute and his betrothed Princess Eira, that together they may uphold justice, peace, and the holy law of God. May this bond be a sign of strength for the realm. Amen.”

After those spoken words, approval, and blessing of the betrothal from the church itself, the gathered people broke out into cheers, several raising to their feet and applauding, the loud sound of skin-to-skin contact emitting from their hands and filling the entire atmosphere.

Eira glanced at the bracelet hanging from her wrist, the heavy weight keeping her grounded in the crucial moment. Her expression was unreadable as she stared at it, and it made Canute almost falter upon noticing, unassured by her lack of emotional display.

He didn't know what she was thinking or what she felt. Her expression didn´t give away a single hint, nor did her body language. It rendered him uncertain of himself, leading to a pause of hesitation before he extended his arm, motioning for Eira to be seated again.

Pliant, she slowly sat at the table, her gaze subconsciously straying to the one of her dearest friend. The girl opposing her stared with wide eyes, a hint of confusion etched onto her face. The look she was given made her glance at the bracelet she was given instead as if trying to shield herself from Estrid´s harsh gaze.

Eventually, the cheering subsided, the gathered guests instead settling into an anticipating silence.

Canute, still standing straight, rid himself of any thought regarding Eira and faced the crowd again. His gaze, previously having turned soft, hardened as it fleeted over each face of the various men and women.

“Now, those who have stood loyal to me may come forth and be seen.” On cue, several servants entered the hall with chests in their arms, filled with various jewels, swords, and fine embossed drinking horns.

The man´s eyes lit up in a mere second at the sight, now cheering again, while some were boasting about Canute's generosity. Their mood changed for the better when presented with rich goods by the king, rendering them simple-minded and easy to bribe men, perhaps.

One by one, Jarls and thegns were called forward and kneeled in front of the king, each receiving any sort of gift Canute deemed fit. The churchmen who were bribed to stay loyal to his claim, precisely to his betrothal, were promised various pieces of land.

The entire gifting ceremony felt longer than it truly was. Eira kept quiet during it all, her fingernails curling into her palm, drawing blood while she clenched her fists. The feeling, normally developing into a sensation of stinging pain, brought forth nothing more than pure numbness.

Her gaze was locked onto her fists the entire time, silently counting each second as the time flew by, as slowly as ever. The intense stare of two individuals kept drilling holes into her, making the moment more tense than it would have already been.

Her hands were trembling from the pressure she endured, from the intense gazes directed at her. She could only guess what currently went through their heads, utterly and completely repelled by the arrangement.

It was the first time she felt self-conscious under Estrid's gaze, now rethinking the choice she made with Canute. Eira could feel the confusion and apprehension radiating off her friend, who kept glancing at her during the gifting ceremony.

The only way she knew what was happening around her was the boasting voices of the men around her, all clapping their hands together as each man came forth. Eira didn´t dare to raise her gaze, didn't dare to meet Estrid´s eyes, nor Wulf´s one eye.

Eira was drowned in her thoughts, mentally absent. So much so that when Canute approached her, she didn't react. A twinge of concern flickered through his eyes when he noticed her vacant gaze.

He rested a hand atop her shoulder, catching the princess off guard, who in return flinched slightly, startled by the sudden touch. Her widened eyes met his, which went round with heed. “My dear betrothed, may you rise to your feet?” his voice turned soft, tender as he spoke to her.

Eira, who was visibly startled, quickly nodded while fulfilling his request, reaching for his extended hand and standing up to her feet, abandoning her seat in the process. Canute, who previously held her hand, saw his palm besmirched with stains of blood. His apprehended gaze fleeted to the hand he once held, whose palm displayed several small marks of blood.

His breath hitched slightly, so subtly that Eira almost didn't catch it. She met his eye with an apologetic look, downcast somehow as she regarded him. Canute wanted to address it but chose to ignore the matter at that moment, for hundreds of people watched them.

Instead, he shot her a concerned look, his brows furrowing slightly before he tore his gaze off her, motioning for a Herald to come forth. The man held the same wooden chest Canute inspected in the morning, extending it for the king to open.

He withdrew the blue-colored headpiece from inside, bowing in front of her before he reached forward to place it around her head.

Eira was stunned by the gift, the similarity between the headpiece around her head and the one he wore so often not going unnoticed by her. Never did she expect him to go out of his way and arrange such presents for her, jewelry that displayed her power and ties to Canute.

It made her tense. The reality of her significance to the kingdom is now more palpable than ever. It frightened her, the burden on her shoulders weighing her down. Canute had warned her about it before. He told her of the downsides the crown brought with itself, but she didn't quite realize it up until now.

Was it something she wanted? Was the satisfaction of ruling after her father enough to overshadow the pressure she felt now? Her choice forced her into a role she didn't quite understand before, the color she had to represent symbolized her loss of freedom and obligation to duty.

She gulped, blinking several times before meeting Canute´s gaze again. He spoke up, loud enough for the amassed guests to hear. “It was made for you, matching my own to stand beside it, as you will stand beside me.”

His words triggered a mix of emotions swaying inside her, not knowing what to make of them. Her chest tightened the pressure from sharing Canute's burden getting to her. But not only that…

Canute had gifted her the adorned fillet in the thought of rendering her as important. He knew of her wish to rule in her own right and if Canute couldn't give her that, he at least was able to make her as powerful as a consort could be.

If she strived for the same thing he did, if Eira wanted to ensure the success of that plan of his, he could entrust her with enough influence and might, to stand by his side.

By gifting her the headpiece, he displayed the trust he had in her. Jarls would know that she wasn't a mere royal womb, but a queen with influence in the northern sea´s politics. 

It was the least he could do, after what he had done.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she curtsied in front of him, “I shall wear it with honor and stand by your side.”

Canute watched her with a tender expression, the prior image of her smile at the coronation still vivid in his mind. Her spoken words triggered the same feelings in him as did her smile; cherished and important.

He felt the sudden urge to caress her cheek softly, drawing circles on her delicate skin. It took him by surprise himself, not having expected to have such irrational thoughts regarding the princess in front of him.

It had already happened too often to his liking. Before the coronation, he had already been tormenting himself with the possibility of Wulf still being her lover and it pained him more than he'd like to admit. More than he´d ever thought he would or could remotely even understand why.

He nodded, suppressing the smile that threatened to appear. Canute then turned to face the crowd again, his voice ringing through the hall as he exclaimed, “The feast shall begin now.”

At his declaration, the heavy doors of the hall were swung open, through which servants appeared, several trays with food on display. They moved swiftly, placing each dish and jar of drink on the many tables.

Soon, they were all filled with various types of nourishment; beef, bowls of stew, roasted boar, smoked fish, along with vegetables and cups filled with ale, wine, and mead. The mixture of each scent filled the guest's nostrils, heavy with herbs and spice.

The tense atmosphere transitioned into an untroubled and cheerful one. Eira and Canute sat back down at the alleviated table at which Estrid and Wulf were. Different from the other groups, which were conversing with delight, the table of the royals was filled with silence.

The four were quiet, stiffly moving as each person ate from their plate or drank from their wine. In Eira´s case, she was already sipping on her refill of the German imported liquor. This time, she wasn't doing it due to pleasure or appetite, but rather her increasing anxiety.

The fillet felt cold on her forehead, along with the bracelet that added weight onto her wrist, jiggling with each motion of her hand. She couldn't eat in peace, for the nagging thought of having to explain this to Estrid continued to pester her, as did the staring gazes of her and Wulf.

After all, it had been far too early for her to retreat to her chambers at such a significant feast, or else it would have been improper of her to do so.

Canute realized this and therefore refrained from commenting on her indulgence of wine, which he had in any other case frowned upon.

Minstrels were swaying through the hall, playing soft tunes of melodies, which aligned themselves with the chatter of the guests. Overall, the atmosphere was joyous and elated, entirely different from how the people at the alleviated table were interacting with one another.

Sporadically, Jarls would come forth to speak with the king, disrupting the tense silence at the royal table. Underneath it, Eira kept curling her nails into her palm, deepening the wounds that had formed previously.

As perceptive as Canute was, especially when it came to her, he slowly reached underneath the table to hold her own, placing a napkin on her palm that freed itself from the fist at his touch. It physically pained him to see her hurt herself, even if it was subconsciously. He was concerned for her well-being and couldn't stand to watch her do such self-destructive things.

Eira glanced at him when she felt his gentle touch, his act of kindness rendering her to feel fuzzy inside. Or perhaps it was just the wine´s doing?

Her gaze drifted down to her hand, squeezing the white cloth in her grip, which was besmirched by small stains, red in color.

As he watched, a thought crossed his mind. It was obvious how much Eira dreaded sitting at that table and having the gazes of over a hundred people scrutinize her, highly perceptive of the now-future queen. Paired with the uncomfortable silence that stretched out during the entire feast, Canute could only imagine her displeasure at the current situation.

So when an idea crossed his mind, he acted. “Are you hurt, princess?” Eira, confused by the question, switched her gaze down to her palms, lifting them slightly. Canute already knew about her injury, so why did he ask her?

When the bloodied cloth was visible, scrunched up in her grip, Canute quickly fetched for a thegn that rushed to their side. Estrid watched with apprehension etched onto her face, while Wulf observed with an impassive look, a hint of concern hidden behind his eyes.

“Bring Princess Eira to the physician. See to it that her injuries will be tended to.” Canute ordered with an authoritative tone, his expression stern as he regarded the man. His subject obliged, lifting Eira and carrying her in bridal style through the hall.

The princess yelped, eyes wide as she was suddenly put into a man´s arms. “I can walk perfectly fine on my own!” the thegn ignored her complaint, not ever moving to loosen his grip on her. “I was ordered to bring you to the physician,” he answered with a bored tone.

Her cheeks were flushed red from the embarrassment filling her as several people watched her being escorted outside the hall, along with her intoxication from the wine. She pursed her lips, having given up on the try to free herself from the thegn´s grip on her.

Instead, her mind filled itself with thoughts of the old physician she was repulsed by, and quickly began to dread the moment she´d enter the infirmary.

When Estrid´s gaze followed the princess outside the hall, Canute decided to speak up, wanting to distract her from the worry. “Your wedding will take place next week. Presumably Thursday so most of the guests will be able to attend before their departure.”

Not only Estrid tensed, but so did Wulf. She didn't speak up, instead resuming eating the leftovers on her plate. Wulf replied in her stead, his voice calm. “A wise choice, Your Majesty.”

Estrid slowly nodded, her gaze fleeting to the bloodied napkin that lay on the table beside Eira´s plate. Worry filled her, albeit she was still confused by the betrothal of her and Canute. Confused and… repulsed.

After a moment of contemplation, she stood up from her seat, excusing herself while doing so, before forward to approach the table of nobles Adalgund sat at. The men, aside from the lad himself, widened their eyes upon noticing a princess approach their table and quickly stood upright.

Adalgund mirrored their motion, his lips curling into a sad smile when he met her gaze. “Your Highness,” he greeted with a strained voice. She matched his expression with a bittersweet smile on her own. “Come with me,” she prompted him to follow her, to which he quickly obliged.

“Where are we going?” His question was left unanswered, and his gaze met with an exasperated expression of hers, her brows twitched together and the corner of her lips pulled into a frown.

When they reached the hallway, she spoke up. “Eira is… Canute's betrothed?” She didn´t seem to understand her own words, her voice straining at the end of the said sentence.

“Eh- seems like it,” he replied unsurely. He scratched his nape, his lips pressed into a line as he pondered her question.

He, similar to Estrid, was utterly confused by the betrothal between his friend and her uncle. But he, other than Estrid, wasn't remotely close to Canute and therefore perceived the matter from an outsider´s perspective.

The idea of marrying a relative wasn´t all that revolting to Adalgund, whose distant cousin was also wed to her uncle to ensure their family's castle wouldn't fall into the hands of other noble houses.

Therefore, the thought of marrying one's kin didn't seem that unnatural to him, along with the fact that despite their conversion to Christendom for political reasons, Adalgund´s family did not outright practice the religion, similar to many noble houses of the Danish kingdom, which was the reason to his nonchalance on the matter.

Other than Estrid, he had no real issue with the “sinful” nature of their betrothal.

Estrid watched his expression, turning even more confused by indifference. “Don´t you see what´s wrong with that?” Adalgund, walking beside her through the hallway without knowing of their destination, shrugged in return.

“I don't see why you're bothered with their betrothal, no.” Adalgund saw no meaning behind that conversation and instead wanted to speak about an entirely different betrothal, one that bound Estrid to another man.

The girl in question widened her eyes, her jaw agape as she heard his incredulous-sounding words. “Are you out of your mind? They are close kin, which makes it a grave sin!”

She was frightened, utterly scared for the said pair. If they´d go through with that arrangement, then they´d surely face God's wrath for disobeying and committing a sin, wouldn´t they? It was a thought she feared, not wanting such fate to cross two people so close to her.

Adalgund, who understood her religious view, simply shook his head. “A marriage like that is made due to political reasoning, so I´m sure your Lord won't be furious at their selfless choice, hm?”

He raised a brow at her, appearing to be indifferent, although he felt entirely different, experiencing an inner turmoil at the thought of Estrid being promised to someone else. It was a matter he wished to discuss instead of this insignificant issue.

“And the Archbishop of Lund blessed the betrothal, so it means God is supportive of the arrangement, is he not?” Estrid shook her head, her frown deepening as she listened to his words.

In her view, a mere man, a mere human could not represent the Lord and speak in his stead. Humans were full of errors and capable of committing sins, getting bribed and manipulated. So if an archbishop, interchanged with another man a few years later, were to declare something in God's name, it did not necessarily hold much truth.

After all, a lesser man couldn't possibly represent a god himself. It was impossible, a disgrace to the Lord to be compared with a flawed creature such as humans.

So what meaning did the blessing of the archbishop of Lund hold when speaking highly of sin?
“That doesn't make it alright. It´s still a sin to marry one's kin.” Adalgund sighed, pinching the sides of his nose bridge in frustration. “The church supports it, so I don't see any issue? Besides, you won´t have to worry about Canute having replaced your spot as her dearest friend, then.”

Estrid rolled her eyes at his unintended jest. She hadn't entertained that jealous thought any more after the announcement of Eira's betrothal, knowing that she didn't necessarily prefer Canute´s presence over her own, but instead likely discussed the topic of their betrothal each time they were alone.

The pair turned around a corner, passing a pair of guards, and when Adalgund noticed her lack of reaction, he spoke up, the thoughts of her betrothal plaguing him, almost consuming him. “Listen, Estrid, I-” he never got to finish that sentence, for Estrid reached for the door handle, swinging a dark wooden door open.

Inside was Princess Eira, tended to her wounds by the elder physician who was applying a cream with herbs onto her palm. The thick liquid, smeared over her open wounds, stung enough for her to contort her face into frustration, wincing ever so slightly whenever the man applied more on each hand.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” Adalgund was the first to call out, worry etched onto his face. Estrid stood beside him, hesitating to speak up.

The princess sitting on a comforter, her hands outstretched to the physician, turned to her friends, her mood darkening at their sight. Her heart rate picked up, her hands sweating profusely from the nervosity.

Why did they have to show up now? Eira wasn't sure what to tell them, nor how to explain the reasoning of her betrothal to them. To put it simply; she was caught off guard.

“Yes, it's only a light wound. You mustn't worry,” she replied stiffly, averting her gaze from the two when she took notice of Estrid´s quiet demeanor.

“But it has been happening too often, princess,” the physician spoke up, his hot breath fanning uncomfortably over her face. The proximity didn´t help to ease her nerves, but quite the opposite instead. “It´s a bad habit of yours,” he elaborated and she felt her cheeks flush at his words, her gaze glued down to her hands.

“It´s nothing to worry about,” she replied with a strained voice, watching as the old man wrapped bandages around her palms.

Estrid and Adalgund, who were still standing in the doorframe, noticed their stance and simultaneously entered the chamber, sitting on an opposing comforter to Eira. Now that the two sat so close to her, she couldn't help but ask, “Why did you leave the feast?”

“We wanted to see if you were well. I mean, you were carried outside the hall so we assumed you were hurt gravely.” It was now Estrid who spoke up, her gaze focused on the headpiece decorating Eira´s forehead.

She noticed her stare, and visibly tensed. She couldn't get herself to meet her gaze, sensing the unspoken judgment radiating off her. “As you can see, I´m fine. You can go back to the feast now.”

“Well, it´s not like we are missing out on something. We'd rather stay with you,” the lad replied with sincerity, giving her a soft smile.

Estrid on the other hand seemed absent, as if lost in thought. Slowly, she spoke up, facing the physician. “You may leave us, Ser.” The man, albeit confused to be dismissed from his own office, nodded and stood up, obliging her request.

When the door was closed, the tension got thicker than it already was, now almost palpable enough to be cut through with steel. Eira bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to find comfort.

“Eira, you…” Estrid turned to face her, her eyes wide, “Why are you and Canute betrothed?” she sounded aghast as she spoke, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

Eira sighed, burying her face in her bandaged hands as if it were to shield her from the conversation that was to come. “Because many challenge Canute´s claim on the throne. I´m King Harald´s only child, so a betrothal between us both straightens his claim.” The exhaustion was evident in her tone.

“Seems plausible to me, are we then finished with that matter?” Adalgund´s frustration didn´t go unnoticed by the two princesses, who glanced at him upon hearing him speak. Estrid, not satisfied by how this conversation had turned out, shook her head.

When she continued, she was facing Eira again. “It´s sinful, don´t you see? It's wrong to go through with that betrothal, Eira.” Her tone was imploring, as she tried to make Eira see reason. The girl in question only shut her eyes, exhaling through her nose to try and ease her nerves.

“The arrangement was blessed by the church, Estrid. There's no reason for you to look down upon it!” Adalgund replied with exasperation, his face contorted into a scowl as he regarded her.

He continued to grow frustrated with her, mostly because he so desperately wanted to speak to her about her betrothal to Wulf, but he never could when she was continuously nagging on that topic that wasn't worthy to be discussed, not when there was nothing wrong with it.

Eira was surprised by his support, not having expected him to take her side in such a matter. After all, she expected him to react the same as Estrid, to be horrified by the thought of her marrying her uncle due to Christian upbringing.

His irritated demeanor took Estrid by surprise, having seen him speak to her with indignation for the first time. “Just because a mere man says so, does not mean that God approves of this!” she frowned at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Spare me your judgment, Estrid. 'Tis leading us nowhere,” Eira eventually spoke up, glancing at the blonde with a tired expression.

“But-” Estrid was interrupted by the lad beside her, who furiously nodded. “Yes, why don't we talk about your betrothal instead?” The anger was seeping inside his chest, increasing with each minute passing by, making it almost hurt by how agitated he had been.

Eira, who continued to grow uncomfortable by watching the display in front of her, slowly rose to her feet. "I'll leave you two to it. Best if you discuss this without me.” It was a feeble attempt to avoid the incommodious matter, but it had worked nonetheless.

Adalgund didn´t even bat an eye when she passed by them, slipping through the door. The only thing she took notice of was the conflicted stare from Estrid, targeted at her.

Eira couldn't stand it.

The way she looked at her? As if she were revolted by her whole existence.

Eira tore her gaze off the two, quick to close the door behind her, to finally make them disappear from her sight.

She couldn't ignore her problems and wait for them to vanish on their own, couldn't drown out her thoughts and the judgemental stares from others, nor could she stand to see anyone's face right now.

—-

Chapter Text

The hall was bustling with euphoric chatter, drowning out every soft-spoken and whispered word. Melodies were played, dances were performed, and food was indulged in. The gathered crowd was gleeful, and the bright ambience was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere at the royal table.

After Eira had been carried to the infirmary and Estrid, in tow with Adalgund, followed the princess outside the hall, Wulf and Canute were the only ones left at the table.

Only a fool wouldn´t have noticed Wulf´s stiff posture, along with his one eye straying from the king in front of him and settling on the corner of the hall instead. Abandoned by his betrothed to pursue his former paramour and ultimately be left alone under the scrutinizing gaze of the newly crowned king, Wulf couldn´t think about anything other than being dismissed from this agonizing feast and letting out his frustration in a spar of swords instead.

He was unable to comprehend what had taken place previously, for the entire situation seemed surreal to him. The woman he was enamored with, now betrothed to the most powerful man in the entirety of the North Sea- no less her uncle- and ripped from his grasp.

Or at least, that was what he believed. After all, she had long before escaped his loving embrace due to heartbreak and distrust, which he was at fault for. But Wulf didn't concentrate on that, nor the fact that he was indeed promised to someone else.

Instead, he focused on the sole fact that Canute had chosen to take her as bride, for a reason Wulf would never agree with. In his mind, the scarred man couldn't believe that Eira would ever think of agreeing to such a betrothal and therefore concluded that Eira was never given a choice to begin with.

That way, he could put his mind somewhat at ease, knowing that she hadn't chosen a man other than him. Yes, it was quite clearly a selfish thought of his, knowing that Eira would never be able to be with him, but wanting her to stay alone instead.

He couldn´t help it. Imagining her being happy with someone that wasn´t him was torture. But this betrothal at least assured him that it was not one of affection.

Those draining thoughts plagued his mind, his knuckles turning white from how hard he clenched his fists underneath the table. His stiff posture was quite the opposite of the king sitting at the head of the table.

The blond´s elbow was pressed into the hardwood surface, his chin resting against his palm in a relaxed manner. The faint curl of his lips was a clue to his inner thoughts, being pleased with how everything had turned out.

Every step came true, perfectly aligning with his thought-through plan. And besides that, a part of himself found pleasure in seeing Wulf´s brooding demeanor, knowing the exact reason for his inner turmoil.

“Are you enjoying the feast, Wulf?” his usual stern tone was now interchanged with a rich, prideful one that reminded one of his previous coronation. A man, officially crowned as ruler of two powerful kingdoms, had every right to be as cocky as Canute felt.

A slow nod, followed by a calm, “Yes, Your Majesty,” came in response. The man with the eyepatch cleared his throat, intentionally straightening his posture more since the king regarded him.

Canute stared at him with a neutral expression now; the hint of a smirk vanished from his face. His eyes held a certain amount of coldness that made it just obvious enough to make Wulf feel uneasy, his one eye averting its gaze from his face in reply.

“...Congratulations on the betrothal, Your Majesty.” The reluctant words caught Canute by surprise, although he didn't let it show. Melodies were played loudly in the background,  tunes as such often resulting in jollity, now only adding to the tension between the two men.

It was now the blond's turn to nod, the regalia atop his head not moving one inch with the motion, instead staying perfectly rested in place. The red gems embedded in the gold of the crown shone in the light, catching the dark-haired man´s attention.

“Thank you, Wulf. Although in no week's time you won't be betrothed but wed instead.” It was meant to come across as a jest, but the words felt as if Wulf were struck with the flat of his palm. His instinct was to flinch, but he dipped his head in the form of acknowledgement instead.

Canute's gaze trailed over the crowd, observing their cheerful demeanor. Laughter filled his ears, their faces scrunched into grins. The sight of their carefree behaviour was hurtful to look at, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

Simple people, lesser men, as his father put it, didn´t understand what was at stake, what had to be sacrificed for their bellies to be filled with food the common folk died working for.

Carefree.

A word almost foreign to Canute.

The burdens he carried on his shoulders were too complex for those “lesser men” to understand.

It was why he'd be left alone to carry them, apart from the few who somehow understood him and even dared to share his twisted wish of a utopia. Thorfinn, too, wished for peace, but would not ever resort to violence to accomplish this dream, which set him apart from Canute's path. It was one job, split into two parts for each of the men to carry out.

One led to a path through bloodshed and iron, while the other had an entirely different route with a peaceful approach. While Thorfinn went on a journey with his companions, Canute had his own, albeit small, share of allies that would take the violence-natured approach alongside him.

Such people included the scarred man in front of him, who had followed him on this journey for quite some time now and never failed to be loyal to him, along with Eira, whose trust he had earned and who believed in the vision that refused to let Canute go.

Canute´s attention slowly drifted to Wulf again, his gaze switching from the feast to the head thegn again. He couldn't help but notice the tension in his muscles, resulting in a rigid, stiff posture. It emphasized the growing tension between the two men, their bond slowly but surely ripping apart.

He thought about Estrid, wondering if the two had spent any time together since the betrothal. If so, then that´d mean that Wulf had been actively trying to form a relationship with her, meaning Eira and Wulf weren't an item anymore. “Have you spent any time with your betrothed yet?” His tone was neutral, casual, as if discussing the weather. While the question itself was innocent, its possible answer held much more weight to it.

Wulf hesitated, pondering how to form his sentences carefully. “Not.. exactly, no,” he averted his gaze to the table, “Perhaps I should seek out her presence before the wedding.” Canute´s jaw clenched under pressure, feeling himself grow unpleased at his words.

"That'd be a wise decision. My sister would appreciate it most definitely.” Nodding, Wulf forced himself to glance at the king again. “Yes, that way we could… grow more familiar.” It physically pained him to speak that sentence out loud, having to think of Eira the entire time.

How could he possibly be wed to another woman when he harboured feelings for her? He'd pine after her for an eternity, that much he was sure of.

“Estrid is quite fond of the royal gardens. You might as well take her out on a stroll; she´d appreciate it.” Wulf nodded along with his words, although he was absent-minded. His mind was clouded with images of the young princess, instead of his wife-to-be.

He let out a sharp breath. “Thank you for the suggestion, I´ll make sure to keep it in mind, Your Majesty.”

Canute studied him with a blank look, although his eyes glinted with something he couldn't possibly describe, but it served to make him shudder under the blond's scrutinizing gaze, goosebumps littering across his skin underneath his sleeves.

The newly-crowned king reached for his goblet, filled with German wine, and gulped some of the saccharine liquid down his throat, his eyes straying from the man and in the direction of the doors leading into the hallway. The same doors through which Eira had been carried after Canute took notice of her bloody palms.

His gaze lingered, and his detached expression hinted at his absentmindedness. His head was spiraling with thoughts, all conflicting with each other inside his mind, through which he felt a headache creeping up.

He felt utterly frustrated at himself, not understanding his own thoughts, nor his feelings. The way he felt a disgusting sensation close to jealousy whenever Wulf glanced at Eira, or how he noticed himself become an entirely different person when near her. It was as if a spell were put on him, how his gaze softened when he laid eyes upon her, and how he overthought his own decisions when it came to her. It wasn´t like anything he had ever experienced before, for he never let someone grow so close to him.

Eira was only a piece on his board of Hnefatafl, so why did she matter so much to him, despite politics? Since when did he start to think of her when she wasn't even around?

Canute could hear the voice of his father laughing at him, the sound erupting from underneath the table. The sound, so eerily familiar, made him almost widen his eyes in… fear?

Why did he feel frightened? It was a part of his routine to be taunted by his late father. So why did the sound of his taunting laughter result in a panicked state for him? A small part of him knew it wasn´t because of the silhouette itself, nor by the fact that Canute would be ridiculed by the dead man.

No, it was because he was scared of the truth.

The blond glanced at the head's silhouette underneath the wooden table, staring right into his dark, gloomy eyes. His lips were pulled into a grin, displaying all of his rotten and filthy teeth, deep wrinkles forming on his already aged face, with an unnatural expression.

“I told you so, son. "You´re a fool.” Canute almost flinched, his jaw clenching painfully. He tried to school his expression, aware that Wulf was right next to him, but he couldn't ignore the tremor.

“How could you let yourself stoop so low? Wasting free time with mindless sheep, you truly disappoint me, Canute.” Sweat began to form at the top of his hairline from the terror Canute experienced, his body freezing in place. He couldn't move, nor tear his eyes off the vile creature calling itself his father.

“You´re already sabotaging your relationship with your most loyal underling due to… childish emotions clouding your judgment. That's no behaviour of a king, but of a sheep. Tell me, Canute, are you a sheep?”

His knuckles turned white, his fingers aching from curling them too harshly. The voice inside his head repeated its question, demanding an answer from him. Canute couldn´t answer. Not because of the people around him, but because he wasn´t confident enough to answer.

He wasn't even sure of an answer, truth be told. He knew how foolish he had been acting, how he let his feelings overcome his rational thinking, replacing it. Not only that, but he had let the feelings form in the first place, which had been a grave mistake.

And now he could feel the rift between him and Wulf, because of his own pettiness. The worst of it was that he was aware of it, knowing what mistakes he was making, but couldn´t do anything about it. It was as if he were a spectator of his own body, not being able to control or influence any of its choices and acts. It frustrated him to no end, and it frightened him more than he allowed himself to admit.

Trying to drone out the voice, he shut his eyes instead, focusing on the sensation of his jaw tensing more by each passing second, along with the blood fleeing from his knuckles. It was only when Wulf spoke up that Canute got pulled out of the trance-like state he had been in.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” his expression was contorted into confusion, although his voice held a hint of concern when he regarded him. Canute´s eyes fluttered open, facing the scarred man directly.

When he noticed the lack of his father´s voice, he let himself relax again, sighing quietly. “Yes, I´m fine." Just tired, 'tis all.” Wulf nodded, although he continued to look for any signs that said otherwise. “Well, you could also retreat to your chambers for the day. It must have been exhausting for you, Your Majesty.”

Canute met his gaze, staying quiet for a moment before replying, “Very well, I´ll follow your advice.”

—--

“How could you defend such a vile betrothal?” Estrid asked with exasperation, glaring at the boy in front of her accusingly. The two stood inside the infirmary of the castle´s physician, arguing about what had previously taken place.

The scent of herbs was overwhelmingly strong, incense along with other plants stashed in several drawers, or hung on the wall, which drowned any stench of bloodied tissues and other things waiting for their medical examination.

Adalgund pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes darting toward the door through which Eira had fled a few seconds ago. Sighing, he replied,” I don't see what your problem is. Both parties agreed to it, and it has advantages from a political perspective.”

Estrid stared at him with furrowed brows, her lips pulled into a frown as she faced him. “My problem is that it's just wrong! God wouldn´t look at them favorably, I mean- incest is a sin, don´t you understand?”

“You do know that not everyone follows the same customs and has the same morals as you do, right? For God's sake, I myself don't believe in your god.” He twirled a wavy strand of hair poking out from his braid between his fingers, as if it were a way to calm his anxiety.

For once, since the entire discussion with Eira, she hesitated. Although still feeling righteous, she tried seeing it from Adalgund´s perspective, which did make the entire situation seem more mundane.

It did make sense. Why else would the two agree to such a…barbaric union? But since when were the two not followers of the lord? The last time she remembered, Canute himself was a devout catholic and used to pray at each given opportunity. Did he change?

Well, the question itself was silly. Of course, he changed. Estrid realized it from the moment he returned from England. He was an entirely different person, as if reborn. Not just lookwise, but from the way he acted, too. From refusing to pick up a sword and being revolted by the mere sight of violence, he went on to practice his swordsmanship daily.

A change so drastic clearly caught her off guard and made her more wary of him, but it did explain his motives better. Obviously, political strategies were much more important to him than Christianity, she realized.

To this day, Estrid couldn't help but wonder what exactly made him this way. Was it the death of their father? Perhaps something entirely else? Estrid didn't know, and she was sure that she´d never find out at all.

But still, she naturally felt repulsed by their decision to wed each other, quite clearly due to her upbringing and beliefs. There was no way that she'd approve of this union from one day to another, but she would try her best to accept and tolerate it, for despite it going against her belief, those two were still very dear to her.

Estrid sighed. “Perhaps you might be right.” Her voice was quieter, more resigned, as if drained of energy and exhausted by the entire argument. Adalgund, who was still watching her, relaxed his posture a bit, going from stiff to normal.

“...W-why didn't you tell me about your betrothal?” His voice quivered, and he had to sniffle to suppress a sob. Upon hearing how his voice almost broke, her expression contorted into something one could only describe as concerned.

“I…I-I feel so-” he couldn't finish the sentence, since he whimpered instead. As quickly as that sound came out, he turned around, sheepish and ashamed by his own sensitivity. He didn't want Estrid to see him like this; like this… pathetic excuse of a ´man´.

But Estrid didn´t hesitate to wrap her arms around him, hugging him from behind. Her embrace was tight enough to be comforting and radiate her warmth. The lavender scent of her hair oil seeped into his nostrils, relaxing him somewhat.

“I´m sorry. God- I'm so, so sorry!” She shut her eyes, pressing her face into his backside. “I never intended for you to feel like this. I'm sorry! I merely-” a sob broke out from her throat, “I was going to write to you- tell you of the betrothal- but then you sent me a letter in which you wrote about your upcoming journey to Jelling, so I decided to tell you in person instead.”

She squeezed him in her arms, smelling his scent to calm herself. Adalgund never grew tense in her grip, relishing every second in which he got to receive her affection, knowing that it would not last for long.

“Then when you came, I-I suddenly hesitated, wanting to spend more time with you like we always did, since I knew you´d be thinking the entire time about the betrothal.” Her breath hitched. “I know it was wrong of me to do so, I´m realizing it now. I never intended for your heart to break, Adalgund. I-I hold you close to my heart, too much to cause you so much pain intentionally, and it hurts me to know how much anguish I've caused you.”

Adalgund gently wriggled himself out of her grasp to instead pull her into a more intimate embrace, his arms wrapping around her slim waist. His head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his hot breath fanning over her bare skin. “I forgive you, Estrid.”

Upon hearing his words, she practically crumbled in his arms. Tears were flooding down her cheeks, her nose red and irritated from the sniffling. “I-I´m very fond of you, so it´s… hard for me to accept t-that I'm soon to wed someone else.”

“...I don´t want to let you go,” he whispered sorrowfully into the crook of her neck, pressing a soft kiss on her delicate skin. “Neither do I.”

For a moment, both of them stayed quiet, merely enjoying one of the last few moments they had together. Both were engulfed by each other´s warmth, caressing one another softly, trying to comfort the other, and coping with their grief.

Eventually, Adalgund broke the silence, his eyes puffy and red from previous crying. “What are we to do now?” The question was one both knew the answer to, but were too scared to say out loud.

“I´m betrothed to someone else; it´d be wrong of me to pursue you any longer,” she replied quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear. But he did, and her words were a jab to his chest, steel piercing through his heart.

“But you pursued me while you already knew about the betrothal, so what are a few more days until the wedding?” His suggestion was desperate; he knew that himself. And a selfish part of him wished that she'd even pursue him after the wedding and commit infidelity for the sake of keeping him as a paramour. And an even smaller part of him was bitter that she chose not to do so.

But he knew better. He was fully aware of her high sense of duty and strict morals, and he couldn't ask her to ignore those traits and betray herself in the process. He wasn´t selfish enough for that.

Estrid bit her lip. “Our relationship is doomed, can´t you see? It is bound to break, and we'd only delay it, arguably making it even more painful for us in the end.” Adalgund knew she was right and therefore refused to argue any further. But it didn´t make it any less painful. It took every ounce of his willpower not to press his lips onto hers and try to convince her to continue their affair.

“You´re right,” he agreed eventually, his voice weak and broken. He squeezed her one last time before letting his arms fall to the side, keeping a small distance between them so it wouldn´t be any harder for them.

Words couldn't describe how miserable he felt. He was still trying to cope with his brother´s death, from which he had gained a terrible trauma and a grave period of depression, until he met Estrid. Now his father had recently passed away, to which he lost another person close to him, and whose death resulted in a duty being thrust upon him- a duty which was meant for his brother, the one he murdered.

And now, he lost the one thing that truly brought him real joy, which lit up his mood and gave him a reason to get up in the morning and not try to end his own life instead, for he had not seen a purpose in it for a long time.

Adalgund wasn't sure how he could possibly deal with all this without falling into the dark pit he was familiar with. He wasn´t sure how to avoid falling back into his old habits, his everyday life in which his mind kept telling him vicious and cruel things to the extent he started to believe them, hating himself so much that he pondered ending his life. After all, he deserved it, right?

He was the one who ended the very life of his brother, so why was he entitled to his own? No matter if it had been an accident or not, Adalgund saw his eyes turn cold and lifeless through his own hand.

It was his fault.

His fault.

“But we'll stay friends!” Estrid´s sudden words pulled him out of his thoughts, his miserable expression meeting her concerned one. “..Of course.”

´I´m not sure if I can…´ He didn´t dare voice that thought out loud, not wanting to destroy her hope and their only way of rebuilding a connection. But deep down, he knew that his reply was a lie. He couldn´t be her friend, not for now, at least. It was still too fresh…

“I…uh- believe we should leave, the physician is most likely waiting for us to exit his office.” It was an attempt to flee from the situation, similar to how Eira had done previously, but it did hold some truth in it.

Estrid wiped the tears from her face, sniffling her red nose before glancing at the doors. “Yes, you're right.” Her posture was stiff and tense from the awkwardness surrounding the atmosphere.

Adalgund turned sheepish and scratched the back of his neck, not knowing what else to do with his hands. Slowly, he turned around and approached the entrance, opening the set of doors to Estrid. The princess gave him a small smile, although her lips were pressed together in the way she´d usually do when forcing a smile.

Then, she walked through the doors, Adalgund following right after, before shutting them.

Standing awkwardly in the hallway, the two stared in opposing directions, trying to avoid eye contact. Seconds passed by rapidly, and it felt as if the minutes turned into hours, time merely spent by them standing in front of each other in the hallway. Neither knew what to do, nor what to say. They were sure that any words spoken would make this even messier, so both chose to stay quiet instead.

The tension was palpable, almost so that one could cut through it with a knife. It was uncomfortable, each second spent in silence making it worse. Eventually, Estrid cleared her throat. “Shall we go back to the feast?” Her voice was unusually raspy, a stark difference from her usual soft tone. It was due to her crying,  most likely.

“Yes, let´s do that.” He threw her a fleeting glance, seeing a sad smile etched onto her face. It tugged at his heartstrings, almost ripping them out of his chest in a violent manner.

—

Heeding Wulf´s advice, Canute dismissed himself earlier from the feast; therefore, he had not seen Estrid, who soon reattended. He didn't feel as exhausted as it may have appeared for Wulf, but rather felt horrified and distraught by his feelings.

The vision of his father only brought his thoughts to spiral further and make Canute doubt himself, along with his questionable feelings. It was enough reason for him to retreat to his chambers earlier than expected, since normally he´d try to stay longer so as not to receive any attention from his sudden “escapade”.

But Canute couldn't care less about that worry, for his inner turmoil surpassed his ability of rationalized thinking. Currently, he couldn't worry about any heads turning at his leave, along with the whispers that may have left their lips while watching him.

All he could care about was having a clear head and not thinking about things that shouldn't have occupied his mind so heavily, or better say, at all.

It was such an unfamiliar sensation to have those mind-consuming thoughts, all about one singular person. And it frustrated him, especially because he didn't want those thoughts. He didn't choose to feel so heavily for someone, nor did he ever expect it to happen, especially so suddenly.

And now that he was more aware of those feelings he began to harbour for the princess, he suddenly felt more strongly for her, which made it all more confusing to him. It was as if his feelings were covered by a veil, which had now been torn away, conveying what was lurking behind it.
Perhaps it was the way she feigned annoyance whenever he teased her? When each time he did it, it wasn't out of malice, but rather affection? Or when each time he teased her, he could see the corner of her lips twitch into the hint of a smile, before it was concealed by a frown?

Or perhaps it was their similar tastes in books? The way they both enjoyed spending their time by reading history books and indulging in the arts of politics? Or perhaps how she smiled at him, with such ease as if it were the most natural thing to do; to smile at someone like him.

He didn´t know what it was that pulled him toward her, nor did he wish to find out. The only things he was aware of were that he found this affection he held for her exhausting and frustrating, believing it made him weak and vulnerable, and that he undeniably had the urge to seek her presence and her affection.

So instead of going to his chambers and trying to mull over his thoughts in an attempt to get a clear head, all rational thinking was thrown out the window, and his feet unexpectedly carried him to Eira´s chambers.

Why had he suddenly decided to do such a drastic thing? To put it short, Canute had no clue. It was as if his mind wasn´t in control of his body, but his feelings were instead. The urge to see Eira and check up on her after receiving those, albeit mundane, wounds was too overwhelming to ignore.

Which was the exact reason he now stood outside the tall set of doors, knocking thrice with his knuckles, before settling on waiting for an answer. Weirdly enough, he felt somewhat nervous all of a sudden, all because of Eira. His hands began to sweat with anticipation, and he noticed himself fidgeting with the fabric of his tunic.

When he heard footsteps nearing, his throat went dry. Canute had to gulp in reflex, discomforted by the itchiness that came with the lack of moisture.

He couldn't brace himself when one of the doors was opened, nor when Eira´s face appeared slowly behind it, peeking out to see who knocked. When the two made eye contact, her brows rose in surprise, along with her lips parting slightly.

Canute almost felt his breath twitch when he locked eyes with her, suddenly caught off guard by the intensity of her gaze.

“Oh- Canute,” she greeted with surprise evident in her tone, along with her expression. Slowly, she pulled the doorknob, opening the door enough for him to see her entire silhouette.

She still wore the same gown from before, although her hair was now pulled out of her previous hairstyle, long strands hanging loosely down to her hips, and some pieces framing her face. The sight of her casual look, only for him to see, appeared almost intimate, which made him glance at it twice, feeling his chest tighten uncomfortably. It was now that Canute took notice of the flush of her lips, along with how her eyelashes fluttered with each motion of her eyes.

He became hyper-aware of how he analyzed each detail of her appearance, and quickly pulled himself out of it before he felt the embarrassing sensation of blushing cheeks. “Eira, may you accompany me for a walk? I wish to speak with you.” His voice was calm, appearing entirely stable, which was a stark difference from how he currently felt.

“Alright, give me a minute, then,” she replied after, turning her back to him before vanishing shortly after, walking inside her chambers. Canute stood in the hallway, waiting while continuing to fidget with his attire, for his nervousness hadn´t vanished yet.

As promised, a minute afterward, she reappeared, now with her hair tied loosely into a long braid and with a headpiece in her palm; the same filet Canute had gifted her. His eyes automatically darted toward the regalia, suddenly feeling warm at the thought of her cherishing his gift.

She held it up, extending it to him, asking,” Can you put it on for me?”

He reached forward, taking the headpiece from her grasp. “Of course, turn around.” His voice softened, laden with unspoken affection, to which Eira had been oblivious.

She heeded his instruction, turning around for him to place the filet atop her forehead. The cold silver burned her skin, the discomforting sensation a symbol for the hardship that'd come with her newfound role.

Canute slowly locked the headpiece together, careful not to let her hair get entangled. The proximity made it harder for him to concentrate on the task at hand, her sweet scent entering his nostrils and making him lose focus. When finished, he pulled out the front pieces of hair strands from the filet, his fingertips gliding along the soft mane.

He actively concentrated on immediately pulling back after his deed was done, not wanting his touch to linger subconsciously on her. Eira slowly turned around again, smiling at him. It was a tired one, one that displayed the exhaustion and mental overload she experienced. But despite all that, she still smiled at him, and that fact made his chest ache with that unfamiliar feeling again.

“Thank you.”

He didn´t realize he was also smiling now. “You´re welcome.”

…..

Chapter Text

He actively concentrated on immediately pulling back after his deed was done, not wanting his touch to linger subconsciously on her. Eira slowly turned around again, smiling at him. It was a tired one, one that displayed the exhaustion and mental overload she experienced. But despite all that, she still smiled at him, and that fact made his chest ache with that unfamiliar feeling again.

“Thank you.”

He didn´t realize he was also smiling now. “You´re welcome.”

….

Eira quickly shut the door behind her, stepping outside the hall where Canute was patiently, albeit feeling like a nervous wreck, waiting. She turned to face him, scrutinising his expression. He seemed fine, but the dark circles beneath his almost dull eyes spoke of exhaustion and deep thought, hidden by his calm and stoic facade.

But she chose not to speak about it, at least for now. After all, she may have misinterpreted. So instead, she settled on,” Where do you wish to go?” The two began walking, their steps in sync, echoing through the cold hallways.

Canute didn’t turn to her when responding, but Eira could imagine the small smirk on his face, the one he usually wore whenever he found himself more hilarious than Eira believed him to be. “Well, taking a stroll often takes place in the royal gardens, doesn’t it?”

His rhetorical question earned him an eye roll from the princess, who now shook her head in mild annoyance. “I will remember not to ask questions around you at all, smartass.” She didn’t see it, but Canutes' smirk subconsciously twitched into a smile.

“If that’s what you believe to be wise, then sure. Although I do think you’ll have to live with most of your questions being left unanswered.”

She sighed. “I’ll live just fine without your sarcastic remarks, Canute.” The twitch of her lips betrayed her, conveying the small amount of amusement she felt, despite feigning annoyance.

Now, he turned to her, watching her expression soften, along with her demeanor lighting up ever so slightly. The sight made his chest swell with an odd sensation, the urge to cup her cheeks and trace along each contour of her face with his calloused fingertips suddenly taking him off guard.

“Luckily, we won´t have to find out if you truly do.”

Eira didn´t reply. His words held a dark and heavy truth, the meaning behind it almost somber. No, doleful was a term that fit the description the best. The entire situation in which she had found herself was ultimately due to her own choices. The grim aspect of her fate was inevitably a fault of her own.

So when Canute made remarks as such, hinting at their shared future, Eira couldn´t blame him for it, could she?

It was her choice.

Hers.

Was it, though?

As soon as that thought rushed into her mind, she shook it off. Brooding while she was supposed to converse with her betrothed upon his request wasn´t wise. She was supposed to listen to him and not stare into the distance absently.

Their footsteps echoed through the halls, which were older than their house´s legacy- its history filled with glory as much as bloodshed, a cycle that would likely continue with their shared reign.

Canute sensed that something was wrong, for the princess beside him didn´t retort with a snarky remark, but instead chose silence as an answer. The realization of his mistake- his insensitive words- made him frown internally. Couldn´t he have been more careful? The thought of having caused her unease frustrated him to no end.

His only desire was to treat her well, care for her, and show her the affection he harboured for the princess.

God, since when did his mind get so tainted by such irrelevant feelings? Let it even cloud his mind, rid him of any rational thought on occasions? The only word that echoed in his mind was frustration. Frustration due to his carelessness, due to his feelings, and due to everything else that was taking place.

Although silent, the atmosphere was heavy and laden with tension, as if they were having a heated argument. Perhaps it was the awkwardness radiating from both of them, which caused this, perhaps not.

Upon reaching the royal gardens, the dim light from the graciously allotted torches- hanging from the stoned walls- illuminated their faces in the otherwise gloom of the approaching night sky. With the sun gone, the temperature had rapidly sunk, and with it came the chilly breeze of a summer night.

Out of instinct, Eira wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her skin through the fabric of her gown. She muttered softly, “Should´ve brought the cloak you gave me.” The corners of her lips twitched downward, and she spoke with slight exasperation. It made Canute turn in her direction, glancing at her with his usual intent gaze.

His expression seemed inscrutable to her, but behind it lay the unmistakable affection he had for her.

“Should I tell a servant to bring it to you?” Canute felt the cold breeze himself and favored the idea of her wearing something that once was his more than he´d care to admit. The mere sight of the fillet adorning her delicate forehead made the sensation surface, which he felt annoyingly often in the last few days.

Eira shook her head. “No, it's fine. I just needed a moment to get used to the change in temperature.” Despite her reassuring words, she continued to seek heat from the friction she caused with her arms, her body still in a self-embrace. Canute pondered if he´d just call a servant over for them to bring her a cloak, but decided against it.

If he knew one thing about his niece, it was her stubbornness. It would be wise of him to respect her choice and refrain from arguing it, knowing how she would in turn react. And even though he often sought tiny arguments to tease her, he didn´t want to risk causing her agitation.

Noticing his silence in reply to her small defiance, she quickly changed the subject. “What did you wish to speak to me about?” She wasn´t sure why, but she felt weirdly tense in that moment, not knowing what the cause of it was.

Perhaps due to his presence? But that wouldn´t make much sense, for she had grown to be at ease around him. So when pondering, Eira hypothesized that Canute himself wasn´t the reason, but the predicament they both found themselves in. The pair was officially betrothed and, therefore, a new layer of indescribable things was glued to the shared atmosphere between them.

The knowledge of her impending marriage to him made her feel… almost weird around him. It changed their dynamic; what once was a close kinship had developed into an (soon-to-be) marital bond.

Canute gulped the forming spit down his throat, his mouth becoming dry quickly after. In broad daylight, one would have seen how he almost paled at the question. He knew the answer to it, but shied away from it. The truth was embarrassing to admit- especially for a king like him.

The answer came out with a shaky breath. “Nothing in particular. I merely wished for us to spend more time together.” His response caught the princess off guard, whose eyes widened, her brows shooting up; she hadn´t expected that. Not at all.

“Oh-” she blinked, averting her gaze from him to collect herself. Due to his usual stoic demeanor, it was rare to see Canute speak outright of his intention. It almost… unnerved her. Neither was she sure what to make of his words. In the past, she wouldn´t have questioned it or even bat her eyelashes. But now? The nature of their relationship has changed, and with it came the differences in their interactions.

Eira couldn´t just see him as her uncle anymore. No, he was soon to be her husband and inevitably the father of her future children.

That thought kept nagging at her mind, refusing to let go. No matter how much she tried to drown it out, it kept coming back. It didn´t help the lingering awkwardness between them.

“Alright, well, I´m spending time with you, currently,” she managed as a response, refusing to reply with a mere sound of surprise. Canute nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to her face- her bright eyes shining in the dim light, which mesmerized him- and his lips slowly twitched into a smile, albeit feeling the pounding sensation of nervousness. His fingers were twitching at his sides, tempting him to clasp them behind his back- do anything with them to busy himself- but he suppressed that urge, leaving his hands nimbly by his side.

“Yes, I´m glad. I hope I haven´t caught you in a busy moment, have I?” Eira shook her head, dismissing his concern. “No, you mustn´t worry.” After that, she nibbled on her bottom lip, contemplating her next words.

“I… wasn´t able to thank you properly for your gifts,” she glanced at the bracelet around her wrist, lifting it slightly so that the dim light could illuminate its gold and sapphires. “Thank you, Canute. They are beautiful.” Her tone was sincere, and her expression turned serious.

Her appreciation of his acts made his insides almost feel wobbly, and the overwhelming feeling was too much for him to handle. He wanted to put distance between them, all of a sudden. Her presence- so close to him- was enough to make any rational thought vanish.

The self-doubt and hatred reappeared, forming from the bottled-up frustration he battled with. Why did he let himself get so infatuated by someone whom he shouldn´t care for more than a piece on his hnefatafl board? A part of his plan, a step closer to his utopia. And now he perceived her as more than she truly was meant to be, and the most crucial part of his predicament: He lost sight of his plan.

It was as if it hadn´t been his priority anymore, which, of course, was the most horrible thing that could happen to him. Canute- the man who didn´t hesitate to sacrifice everything and anything to get closer to his goal- had busied himself with fancying a girl.

And not just any girl, but the daughter of his brother. The man he let be obliterated- poisoned in the cowardly way, Canute often got rid of his enemies. So not only should he allow himself to harbour feelings for her because of his most utterly important priority, but because I´d be downright cruel for her. And selfish from him.

So the first thing that came as a reaction was his stoic, cold persona resurfacing. The persona he had when speaking with anyone else. Vassals, noble men, anyone who wasn't her. Not out of spite, but out of fright. And for the sake of both of them. His expression —once warm and soft —hardened. His jaw clenched ever so lightly, oblivious to the princess beside him.

“You´re welcome.” His voice lacked the layer of warmth he usually had whenever he addressed her. It pained him, and it took every ounce of self-restraint not to fall into the smitten demeanor his body so desperately urged him to.

Eira nodded in reply, a tight-lipped smile decorating her face. Silence stretched the atmosphere, and she was sure that this was the most awkward moment in her life. It felt as if she´d have to carry the entire conversation, despite him being the one who sought out her presence.

Her tongue glided over her teeth, pondering on what to say. Anything to avoid this awkward silence. Anything.

“Estrid didn´t take kindly to our betrothal,” she chose to inform. It wasn´t an ideal topic of conversation, especially because of the negativity that clung to it. But what else was she supposed to say? Nothing else popped up in her mind, other than the current predicament of her crumbling relationship with her friend.

At this, Canute let the slight surprise take over his features. His brows rose, along with his stern expression softening lightly. “Did she?” he asked, his tone hinting at his curiosity. To truthfully admit, it didn´t shock him to hear of Estrid´s disapproval, knowing of her religious persona. But Canute did not expect her to voice her disdain of the arrangement. That was more of Eira´s thing, regarding her ability to be uncouth.

Eira hesitated for a moment, her breath hitching as she thought of her previous argument with Estrid. Subconsciously, her hands balled into fists, and her nails dug into her palm. The sharp sensation grounded her, pulling her back from overthinking.

“She reacted... quite aghast and kept drilling into my mind how ´sinful´ it is,” she shook her head. “She seemed very upset.”

Canute took in the new piece of information, mulling it over. “Estrid takes virtue much more seriously than others, so I can´t say I´m surprised she reacted that way.” Eira scoffed, her brows furrowing at his response. “It was my decision, not hers. She should have respected it, instead of arguing it.”

Canute understood why Eira was so agitated. It must´ve felt for her as if Estrid didn´t respect her herself by letting her own beliefs get in the way of Eira´s decisions, which, in turn, obviously hurt her.

“So I take it you two had a heated discussion?” Eira bit her lip, refusing to reply. She didn´t want to say it out loud, as if scared her affirmation could somehow make their disagreement even worse. Acting oblivious to it, as if it never happened, could somewhat ease her mind. But her silence was enough of an answer to Canute, who averted his gaze, which drifted over to the barely lit bushes of roses.

Pebbles crunched underneath their feet with each step, filling the quiet atmosphere that came with the peaceful setting into the night.

“You mustn´t worry. Knowing Estrid, she will apologize to you as soon as possible. She resents disputes, even more so if it´s with people dear to her.” Eira shook her head in defiance, but kept quiet nonetheless, refraining from interrupting him.

“I imagine she´s already worrying about you, blaming herself for causing a quarrel with her best friend.” She knew of the truth he spoke, but was too stubborn to consider it and follow his advice to let go of the subject.

She couldn´t help it. Eira was upset, and forgiving easily wasn´t her strongest suit. Not only that, but she was sure that she´d never seen Estrid talk to her that way. Sure, she had a knack for scolding her whenever Estrid didn´t find it in her heart to be as nice as her aunt, but each time it was put lightly by her.

“We never fought like that,” she whispered, scared that if too loud, her fears would develop into reality. Canute switched his gaze to her, her eyes softening when he took in her distressed state. Great, so much for putting emotional distance.

“It must be hard for you, but believe me, tomorrow your concerns will fade after she´s approached you. I´m sure she will want to apologize to you as soon as possible.” He tried reassuring her. Canute didn´t want to see her in this state and did his best to lighten her mood.

Eira didn´t lift her gaze, keeping it planted on the pebbled path she walked on. Watching as each small stone got crushed by her feet, parting into smaller ones. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, applying more pressure with each second flying away. She´d have almost drawn blood if she hadn´t been pulled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder.

Canute attempted to gain her attention, but he fell on deaf ears each time he said something. Therefore, he sought her focus with physical touch, knowing it might work better that way. He hesitated at first, his original goal to put distance between them making him second-guess his decision. In the end, he reached out, gently placing his calloused hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and careful.

As anticipated, Eira immediately looked up to him, staring into his gaze through her eyelashes. Finally, he had gained her attention. But instead of pulling away, he softly squeezed her shoulder. His gaze was soft, his eyes glinting in the light of the flames from the torches.

Tension faded away from his face, his brows lifting from their furrowed, concerned state. “Try not to think about it, alright? It will do you no good to overthink your argument with her.” Eira nodded slowly, tucking her hair behind her ear sheepishly while he pulled his hand away. Her lips were still pulled into a frown, and she still felt uneased by her predicament, but didn´t voice it.

After all, Canute was next to her, handing her great advice. What person would she be to completely disregard it? So for once, she chose to shut her mouth willingly, as much as it displeased her.

The silence took over again, and Eira slowly felt herself become agitated at his lack of speaking. Why did she have to carry the entire conversation? It appeared as if his lips were glued shut by the way he didn´t begin to speak by himself. Her teeth dug even more into her lip, and this time she could feel the familiar sensation of the warm liquid pooling from her lips. The metallic taste invaded her taste buds, and her teeth got coated in the red of blood.

With a swipe of her tongue, her teeth turned perfectly white; all evidence from her self-infliction of pain vanished, apart from her bloodied lip. In the dim light, it appeared as if she had smeared juice of a berry over her mouth for the illusion of blood-flushed lips. Well, now it wasn´t just an illusion. But instead of having more blood flow, which made her lips appear as if she´d be aroused, her lips were truly bleeding from an outside wound- all caused by her anxiety.

Eira got sick of the silence, for it gave her thoughts a free path of tormenting her conscience. So she cleared her throat and spoke up, “Why do you want to spend time with me?” It was a forward question, one that would hopefully break him out of his silent demeanor.

As hoped, it caught Canute off guard, for he did not know how or what to answer. His lips parted, but no words came out. The sensation of his ears becoming warm, no less turning red in embarrassment, distracted him.

The first thing that came to mind was his growing feelings for her, which, he of course didn´t voice. His gaze drifted off to the various flowers growing from the dirt, becoming taller by each day spent in the sun. Peculiarly, he noticed the similarity between himself and the flowers: the sun was feeding them, with each day making them grow into upright and blossoming flowers. It was the same with his feelings and Eira.

Each day he spent with her, each minute he spent in her presence, the feelings he harboured for her grew more intense. It was as if she were his sun, as kitschy as it may have sounded. God, that comparison physically hurt him, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was his own thoughts, and there was no way to control them, only how to act on them. But it was easier than he said, especially when he tried to render his feelings for her non-existent.

Of course, he couldn´t give her the answer he originally thought of, but instead replied, “We are to be wed; I believe it´d be wise of us to get to know each other more. It would make our marriage easier for both of us.”

Eira wasn´t sure what answer she expected from him, but as reasonable as it sounded, she could feel her cheeks warming up to his words. She was glad for the dim light, for it concealed her rosy cheeks. But it didn´t hide her sheepish demeanor.

“Yes, you´re right.” She nodded, absentmindedly licking the blood from her lips. Canute´s eyes- to her oblivion- trailed each movement, his gaze glued to the way her tongue swept over her lip. The motion was a small one, but it only added to the swirl of emotions buried inside his chest.

“But if you want to learn more about me, then you should actually speak up for yourself,” she remarked, much to his confusion. When he regarded he with a puzzled look, she elaborated, “During the course of our conversation, I practically had to pull the words out of your mouth to avoid silence.”

“I didn´t intend for you to carry our conversation. I apologize for that.” He was truly sorry and understood why she felt that way, knowing his silence stemmed from his brooding. From having to deal with his irrational thoughts and emotions, along with his wish to put distance between himself and Eira- or to distance himself from his own feelings.

“Are you alright?” Normally, he wasn´t this way. Other times, he was the one to initiate conversation with her, often annoying her with his various remarks. But now, the difference in his demeanor was stark, and Eira was intent on finding out the cause of it.

Canute didn´t expect her to outright ask for his well-being, and it made him wonder if his inner turmoil had been that obvious.

“I´m merely exhausted from the day. A lot of preparation went into the coronation and into the feast. And I haven´t slept much as well, which is affecting my ability to socialize.”

Eira stared at him. “Wouldn´t it then be best if we get to know each other more tomorrow instead? Since you´re tired and in no shape to socialize now, you might want to retreat to your bedchamber for the rest of the evening and rest; you need it.”

Canute played with the thought of heeding her advice and, in the end, followed it. He felt somewhat rueful at having ended their stroll earlier than initially, but it was her idea, so there was no need to feel as regretful as he did, right?

Eira reassured him that he mustn´t worry, and that there was plenty more time to learn more about their counterpart tomorrow- but for now, the night would be too short and the exhaustion had already taken place.

While the newly-crowned king retreated to his chambers- specifically his bedchamber- Eira decided to spend some time inside the library before she would eventually decide to sleep for the rest of the night. The idea popped into her head when she pondered what to do, and she realized quickly after that her daily visits to the library had turned more infrequent.

Determined to change that, she quickly sauntered over to the halls of the grand library and opened the doors. To her surprise, Adalgund sat beside the fireplace, flipping through pages of a book in his lap.

His eyes lifted at the sound, and when his gaze met hers, she realized that he must have felt even more horrible than she did earlier. Even from this distance, she took notice of his red and puffy eyes; a sign that he had cried more than he could count. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, unsure of how to approach him.

But she didn´t feel intimidated by the predicament she found herself in. After all, she had once consoled the lad in a time of need and was sure she would be able to do it twice.

“Adal,” she greeted with a soft voice, carefully seating herself beside him on the soft cushion of the comforter. “I didn´t expect you to dwell here of all places.” She tried to ease up the mood and distract him with a light-hearted remark.

“I´ve tried to keep myself busy,” he replied curtly, his gaze not wavering from the book in his lap. Eira took notice of the way his bottom lip trembled, threatening a sob to escape. Gently, she reached for the book, pulling it out of his grasp and instead placing it on the wooden table in front of them. “Care to tell me what happened?”

He knew it had no use lying to her about it. And the idea of opening up to her did appease him somewhat, which is why he lifted his gaze to stare into her eyes, which met his red ones.

“Estrid and I spoke about her betrothal, and she decided to end things.” His explanation was curt and laconic, and the blow was therefore not softened before landing on her. As soon as those words left his lips, Adalgund broke out into a sob, tears rolling down his cheeks after he shut his eyes forcefully.

Eira didn´t hesitate this time, embracing him softly. His head was buried into her neck, wetting it with his tear-stricken face. Eira didn´t care about that; she only cared for his well-being.

Soothingly, she traced circles into his backside, hoping it would help calm Adalgund. The boy was shaking in her grasp, his body trembling as he let each emotion flood from his chest. Eira continued to hold him like that, giving him a moment to seek comfort from her.

“I don´t want to let her go,” he whispered into the crook of her neck, his voice weak and raspy from the crying. His eyes were glossy when he met her gaze while pulling away, his lips pulled into a frown. She winced upon hearing him say those words, unable to ignore the similarities between her and Adalgund´s predicaments.

“It might be hard at first, but you must. You will get better after a while, I promise.” Her words were true, recalled from her own experience. While she still clung to Wulf in some way, and couldn´t control the thoughts that crossed her mind at night when she lay in bed. But compared to the day she found out about the betrothal, she felt much better now, even if a part of her hadn´t healed completely.

Adalgund didn´t reply, but he clenched his fists in reaction. She slowly pulled her hands back, freeing him from the embrace. He sat still on the comforter, and Eira mimicked him, neither speaking. The silence returned. The silence Eira had been so sick of today. It was as if it had been haunting her, trailing after her, clinging to her like a shadow would.

“I… wanted to thank you for today. For defending me in that argument.” It was a meek try to end the tormenting silence, but one nonetheless.

Adalgund didn´t lift his gaze, his eyes staring into the pit of the fire. “You mustn´t thank me for it; it was only natural for me to do so. Estrid was in the wrong.” A small, sad smile crossed her face, and she kept gazing at him.

“I still want to thank you for it. I appreciated your deed,” she retorted, her eyes momentarily fleeting to the book on the table. “What have you been reading?” she inquired in a curious tone, her body easing from the tension she felt.

“I don´t know. I haven´t been paying any attention to the words I have read.” Eira let out a humorless chuckle after that, her hand reaching for the title before placing it in her lap. “So all you´ve done here was brooding?” She attempted to make a light remark, intending to pull him out of this sorrowful state he was in.

“I suppose so, yes.” He stayed silent afterward, each attempt to lighten his mood vanishing unsuccessfully. Eira let out a sigh, her gaze following Adalgund´s to the fireplace.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Silence followed in reply before he answered her, “I don´t know if it would make it any better.” It does, she thought. In her situation, she didn´t open up to anyone about it and suffered alone in silence. Thinking about it, Eira now wished she had had someone she could have talked to about this. Clearly not Estrid, since she was Wulf´s betrothed, and it would have made the circumstances more peculiar for both of them.

But at least she could help Adalgound through it, comfort him in a time much needed, that much she was sure of.

“Trust me, it does help to open up.” The certainty in her voice made him stare at her, his expression unreadable. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, his voice sounding sceptical but also… hopeful. His brows rose, and the tension in his features lessened.

The question made her pick at her skin, her fingers fidgeting as she pondered about telling him. It would have made no difference to her, since it was already in the past. But perhaps it could have helped Adalgund, knowing he wasn´t alone in this.

She averted her gaze, glancing at the fire again. The bright flames illuminated her face, along with heating her body. Why did she suddenly feel so hot? Surely it couldn´t have been because of the fire, right?

“I also had a lover up until recently. I was kept in the dark about his impending betrothal, the same as you-” her breath hitched. Why was it so hard for her to speak about it? Hadn´t she been over him?

“I wish I had talked to someone about it. Believe me, it helps to speak up.” Her words were sincere, and her voice became quieter. Adalgund felt the sorrow intensifying, but not because of himself, but for Eira. He felt horrible and now realized that she must have experienced the same, for which he was utterly sorry.

Slowly, he leaned in for a hug, as shy as he felt. “You´re the first one I´m telling this to,” she exclaimed with a weak chuckle. Her confession made him turn sheepish, overwhelmed by the realization of the trust she had put into him. But he was thankful, nonetheless.

“I´m glad you are confiding in me. I´ve done it often enough to believe I must annoy you with my problems,” he jested with a sad smile. They pulled away from the embrace, and Eira was quick to reply, “You never annoy me, Adal.”

His small smile turned into a grin, flashing his teeth at her. The corner of his eyes crinkled, and all tension vanished. “I´m happy to hear that.”

The atmosphere between the two was comfortable and somewhat peaceful. The sound of wood crackling in the fire filled the silence, the sound soothing to their ears. Unexpectedly, Adalgund spoke up again. “I´m a bit confused. You´re saying it was quite recent, but you´re now betrothed to King Canute, are you not?”

“Yes, but I don´t exactly harbour feelings for my uncle,” she retorted with a huff. “Our betrothal is only for political reasons, not romantic ones.” He didn´t seem surprised to hear that, but the confusion didn´t disappear.

It was probably etched onto his face, since Eira elaborated, “It was Ser Wulf, the head thegn.” His eyes widened upon hearing the revelation.

“Estrid´s-?” she nodded, her head hanging low.

“That does change the situation entirely,” he thought out loud. “And Estrid doesn´t know anything about that?”

Eira shook her head. “No, and I want it to stay that way. It would only serve to complicate it any further.”

“Understood, I will then keep my mouth shut.” He motioned with his fingers to close his lips, which made her huff at his jest. “I will murder you if word gets out.” He pressed his lips tightly together, as if trying not to laugh.

The sight made her burst into laughter herself, to which Adalgund quickly joined in. “But I´m serious,” she said in between each chuckle. “Don´t tell anyone, please.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Eira nodded, her gaze fleeting to the book in her lap again. Gently, she placed it back on the table. Slowly, she could feel the exhaustion taking over her body, along with her eyelids threatening to shut. “It´s quite late,” she spoke up. “I should retreat to my bedchamber, and you too.”

He made no motion to stand up, but instead reached for the book. “I think I will stay here for a bit. But you may go to bed, I won´t keep you up any longer.”

She raised an eyebrow, standing up from the comforter and staring down at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, don´t worry. Sleep well,” he reassured her, to which she ended up nodding, albeit feeling uncertain about leaving him alone. “Alright, good night, Adal.”

With a wave that got reciprocated, she left the library and hurried to her chambers.

—--

Upon waking the next morning, a wave of exhaustion washed over Eira. It was as if she hadn´t slept at all, and her tiredness from yesterday evening hadn´t vanished but instead intensified. Her eyelids were heavy, threatening to fall shut, and the weight of her head tempted her to lie down and stay in bed.

It wasn´t unusual for her to wake up in a sour mood, but this morning it had been… different. She couldn´t recall the reason for it, but Eira didn´t dare to ignore her exhaustion. Therefore, she ordered breakfast to be sent to her bedchamber instead of attending to it in the dining hall with Canute and Estrid, along with the new addition of her betrothed.

Speaking of, Eira had no desire to sit in the same room with her, let alone speak with her. So she did the logical thing and ate breakfast alone in her bed, blissfully taking advantage of the time she had yet to spend alone before she´d have to visit her Latin lessons.

After that duty was fulfilled, the next one was supposed to be attended. This time, it was an archery lesson, one she looked forward to. She even thought of taking Adalgund with her, which she didn´t hesitate to do.

At first, he wanted to refuse, knowing he lacked skill in that department. But the idea of spending time with his friend persuaded him to follow her to the training grounds, where a squire had already been preparing various targets for the princess to shoot.

Her instructor, Wulf, had arrived quickly after. When his presence joined them, Eira felt herself tense instinctively, which Adalgund took notice of. Most likely because he had paid more attention when he arrived, remembering the things Eira told him before.

But instead of letting him affect her performance at the lesson today, she acted as if he were merely her instructor, with no history behind their relationship. Her politeness almost came off as cold; no warmth laced in her words that were directed at him. It simply seemed as if nothing had ever happened between them.

Her indifference didn´t go unnoticed by the two males, and Wulf felt hurt by her cold demeanor, although he was professional enough not to let it show. Instead, he stayed civil and instructed them to hit several targets; his teachings were more directed at Adalgund, who had difficulties heeding his advice.

While Eira seemed fine and concentrated from the outside, the same didn´t apply to her inside. She felt a hollow pit forming deep in her stomach, and she was more focused on drowning out that sensation than on her archery lesson. That pit, which deepened with each breath she took, with each time she closed her eyes, and each time she tried to relax.

But she didn´t dare to let his presence affect her in any way. No, she was stronger than that… or she´d like to believe that.

At least she had the luck of having to share Wulf´s attention, as he was more focused on correcting Adalgund´s mistakes, which weren't scant. That way, she didn´t feel his eyes staring into her back with each move of hers, which normally would have been the case. It helped her stay calm- or that´s what she thought, at least.

After the lesson ended, Eira and Adalgund left the training grounds together, but of course not before bidding their goodbyes to their instructor. Then, the boy turned to face the princess beside him, speaking up, “Isn´t it hard for you to still have him as your instructor?”

Eira strode forward, her feet carrying her to the castle as she replied, “Of course it does, but changing my instructor won´t make it any better.” She turned to regard his curious expression. “Believe me, after a while their presence won´t affect you any longer.” Her words were directed at him directly, and Eira wished to speak of experience, but couldn´t lie about her lingering feelings for the head thegn.

The only thing that helped her get through was hope: believing that in no time, she´ll look at him without any emotions resurfacing. But now, that hadn´t yet been true.

“I will take your word for it, then.” Adalgund´s expression turned into a thoughtful one, his gaze drifting towards the castle they were approaching.

“Good,” she replied with a smirk, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. The next words that left his lips wiped the smirk from her face with ease, taking her off guard as unexpectedly as they were.

“I will depart from here tomorrow, since my father´s funeral will then take place, and I will be named the new lord of house Andersen.”

“Oh- I didn´t expect you to leave so soon. You won´t be there for Estrid´s wedding on Thursday, despite it being only three days from now.” Her voice was laced with a hint of sadness, her brows furrowed in distress.

“The funeral was already postponed for the sake of the king´s coronation. And in all honesty, … I believe it´s best if I don´t attend her wedding.”

The two now stood in the hallway, facing each other. The atmosphere was tense, thick from the serious matter they discussed, along with the dread of the following day.

Eira´s head hung low, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip nervously. She didn´t want to see him go so soon, especially not when she knew how horrible he currently felt. But both of them knew how important duty truly was. It always came before emotions, as awful as it often was.

“Right, I will soon have to address you as ´Lord´ Adalgund, “ she jested, attempting to avoid the sadness that she felt in this predicament. The lad chuckled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Says you! You´ll be the queen of Denmark and England!” Eira couldn´t come up with a clever retort, having been bested by his retaliation. So she merely shook her head, a smile etched onto her lips.

It still felt so surreal, knowing that in two mere weeks she´d become the most influential woman in the entirety of the North Sea. Married to the most powerful person of the North Sea. As peculiar as that may have sounded, it would soon become her reality.

Well, she still had to get used to that thought.

“I hope you´ll attend my wedding, at least.”

“Of course I will! Can´t miss His Majesty´s wedding ceremony, can I?” His words earned him a jab, her elbow connecting with his ribs. “You´re very funny.” She rolled her eyes, huffing at his audacity.

After his laughter died down, he spoke sincerely, “I will attend your wedding. You mustn´t worry about that.” His words made her sigh in relief. She wasn´t sure why, but his confirmation seemed utterly important to her.

“You must write to me after you leave!”

“I surely will, Your Highness.” He bowed to her, the sight making the princess chuckle in reply. Not only did the humor make her content, but the mere fact that Adalgund seemed to feel better now. Or perhaps he was merely feigning it? At least that was what Eira often did.

Unexpectedly, the two were approached by the familiar sight of a blonde princess, who was walking straight toward the pair. Simultaneously, the two tensed up, their bodies rigid when she halted in front of the two.

She seemed hesitant, awkward even. Well, who could blame her? Adalgund and Eira were staring down at her with indescribable expressions, their body language conveying their discomfort.

It intimidated her, but she spoke up nonetheless. “Greetings, you two.” Her gaze landed directly on Eira, her lips pulling into a sad smile. Adalgund took notice of her focus on the princess and slowly distanced himself from the girls.

“Uh- I should draw myself a bath, I must reek from the archery lesson-” he internally facepalmed, cringing at his anxious ranting. “I will see you later.” He quickly dismissed himself, not wanting to get himself into that tense mess any further.

The princesses stared after his departing figure, Estrid´s gaze lingering on him longer than she intended to. Eira watched the girl in front of her, unable to avoid the sorrow she felt building up inside of her.

The memories of the three of them spending time together, jesting with one another, and staying up until well into the night- all so frequent times- now nothing more than the term ´memories´.

Eira wouldn´t have ever expected their friendship to turn out this way, and couldn´t help but mourn the loss of those cherished memories.

“I uh-” Estrid´s attention was now directed at her- “I wanted to speak with you…” Her voice was strained, as if she almost choked on those words. Estrid knew that she avoided her during breakfast, and the realization hurt her. She had realized her mistake long after her argument with Adalgund and had mulled over the entire matter for the rest of the day.

“Could you accompany me for a walk?” Eira nodded, albeit feeling uncomfortable, and had no desire to talk to her.

The two then went on their way to the royal gardens, their steps slow and measured. Elegant and poised, as was expected of a princess.

Estrid wasn´t confident about beginning the conversation, but she had no other choice. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line and failed to respect your decision, for which I feel utter remorse.”

Silence followed her words. Eira didn´t know what to reply, and felt a surge of pressure overcoming her. But luckily, Estrid continued to speak, “As much as I´m not able to understand your reason for this arrangement, I still tolerate it, because it was your decision. And you´re very dear to me, and I refuse to lose you over a mindless disagreement like this, so you have my utmost apology.”

Her hand slowly reached out for Eira´s, intertwining their fingers in a search for comfort. “I truly regret everything I told you yesterday, and I understand if you´re still upset with me.” Her words were all but true, filled with sincerity and sorrow.

Her apology left Eira at a loss for words, as she had not expected such a heartfelt and lengthy apology. As much as she still felt hurt from their argument, she wasn´t blind enough to ignore how much Estrid regretted that moment, and how truly she wanted to make it up to her.

Her gaze followed their intertwined fingers, her hand softly squeezing Estrid´s. The motion made Estrid look up to her, her eyes turning glossy. “I forgive you,” she decided after a moment of pondering. Her words, as scant as they were, were enough to light up the blondes´ mood.

She leaned in, embracing Eira tightly. Tears were freely flowing down her cheeks, wetting the crook of her friend´s neck. “I missed you so much!” Eira internally rolled her eyes at her sentimentality, but a small smile graced her lips nonetheless.

Slowly, she leaned into the hug as well, enjoying the warmth of her friend. She was glad for this moment, to be able to hold her like this again.

After a while, Estrid pulled back, wiping the tears from her face with the fabric of her dress. “I must warn you, it will take me some time to get used to Canute´s and your new… arrangement. I will try my best, though.”

It was a start, at least. So Eira nodded, her smile brightening. “I understand, don´t worry.”

Her friend sighed, much relieved that she had been compassionate. The worry of having their disagreement form an inevitable crack in their bond became unnecessary. Words couldn´t describe how content she currently was, and she enjoyed spending time with her friend, doing mundane things such as strolling through the royal gardens.

“I see you´ve brought Adalgund along to your archery lesson?” she sparked up a conversation, at Eira quickly felt at ease again. How many times did she have to try her best to keep a conversation flowing? Thankfully, Estrid was skilled at socializing, and therefore, her counterpart didn´t need to exert herself by trying.

“Yes, I had done so many times before, and I believe he could indeed use some teaching in that department,” she jested, a grin etched onto her face.

Estrid found equal humor in her statement and shook her head, trying to refrain from laughing. “Well, I´m glad you´re spending time with him.” Her expression turned thoughtful, her mind occupied with the boy she cherished.

“Yes, of course I do. He´ll depart tomorrow, after all.” The revelation took the blonde by surprise, whose eyes widened, brows shooting up. “What, so soon?” The thought of him not attending such an important day for her shot a pain through her chest, and she internally winced.

“He can´t miss his father´s funeral, and he´ll be declared the new Lord of House Andersen. He only visited us because it was necessary for someone to represent his house at Canute´s coronation.”

Estrid nodded along with her words, but despite all logic, she felt quite cheerless. For him to leave when they were on such peculiar speaking terms… it left a sour taste on her tongue and a broken heart.

“Oh, he must be very distressed then. I do hope his journey will go smoothly.” She did have a slight suspicion that she wouldn´t be able to tell him those words herself, realizing how he tried to avoid her presence altogether.

Eira quickly took notice of her somber state and decided to change topics, “Have you been spending some time with your betrothed?” In all honesty, Eira hadn´t merely felt curious for Estrid´s sake, but because of her own history with Wulf.

The idea of him courting her made Eira feel uneasy, and she knew how selfish that was of her. But she couldn´t control that, could she? The best solution was just to drown out those thoughts and to swallow the complicated emotions that arose.

“We´ve spent some time in the gardens yesterday, but not many minutes had passed by before he was called away for duty.” She sighed. “He seems like a respectful and kind man, but he´s a mere stranger and we haven´t found any common interests yet.”

Eira wasn´t sure if those words should have made her feel content or feel bad for her. Those conflicting thoughts and feelings that plagued her continued to mess with her head, and any rational thought competed with the irrational ones.

“I´m sorry to hear that. But I´m sure after some time of getting to know each other, you will end up finding similarities between the two of you. It´s only natural for that to happen,” she ended up saying, her voice sincere despite the brewing storm inside her.

Her response surprised Eira herself, not having expected to give out such logical advice when she felt so torn.

“Yes, you must be right.” She smiled and quickly changed the topic, leading her friend through several paths of the garden. While Eira conversed with her, she had much difficulty ignoring her inner turmoil, but at least Estrid´s bubbly persona helped her distract herself from the impending days that were to follow.

They spent the rest of the afternoon outside until they were called for dinner inside the castle. Peculiarly, Canute hadn´t shown up, leaving her with Estrid and Wulf. The dinner itself was spent mostly in silence, apart from the few questions that the blonde directed at her friend, which she curtly answered each time.

Eira wondered why Canute didn´t attend the dinner. Didn´t he wish to spend time with her? After all, it had been his idea for the two of them to get to know each other better, which in her mind sounded much like his way of asking her to court her, now that she thought about it.

The thought made a blush cover her cheeks, her face heated from the embarrassment. Why did she even wonder about his whereabouts? It shouldn´t matter to her; if he wanted to spend time with her, then he should seek her presence, not the other way around.

The only logical reason for his absence was him being busy. He was most likely sitting in his study, engrossed in dozens of scrolls, with a slouched posture from sitting in the same position for several hours. Yes, that likely had been the reason.

After the three had finished dining, Eira wasted no time visiting the library. As expected, Adalgund sat on the same comforter, in the almost exact same position as yesterday. The sight made her chuckle, and she quickly joined his side, conversing with him during the entire evening, before both of them retreated to their chambers for the rest of the night.

When Eira lay in bed, one particular thought filled her mind: She dreaded the day that was to come. She didn´t wish for Adalgund to depart so soon and felt horrible at the thought of him being alone in this state, while having a heavy duty thrust upon him.

But Eira believed in him. She knew he´d get through it, just as much as she had to.

Chapter Text

Time flew by, and the night faded, overtaken by the incoming dawn. The following day- Tuesday to be exact- was the date set for Adalgund´s departure, and inevitably his parting with the princesses.

The soft breeze of cold morning air rushed through the few loose strands of Adalgund´s hair, and the passing wind made goosebumps litter across his skin. The courtyard, often so full of life and busy with highborns and their peers, now appeared much bigger in its vastness, for the hour was unusually early. Every space was left untouched, leaving much room for it to be perceived as grand as it truly was.

Of course, one spot in particular was filled, albeit only scantily. A small carriage- loaded with what Eira presumed to be her friend's luggage- was the vehicle tasked to bring Adalgund home; thus, it was parked on the stoned floor of the inner patio, with a few of Adalgund´s personal servants sitting in the outer part of the carriage; the inside reserved only for nobility.

As early as it was, the cold was proof of the usual morning air. Eira didn't think twice about getting up from bed and bidding her friend goodbye in person. But Estrid did the same, despite the tension between the two. That sole fact made the boy turn sheepish, anxious, even. His fingers grazed the several layers of fabric of his attire, fidgeting from mere habit.

He didn't know how to act with her presence nearby, his sorrow and resentment toward the girl making it hard for him to express himself normally. How could he when the mere mention of her name aroused various conflicting feelings in him? The love he bore for her, so sweet and innocent, contradicted the bitterness his heart was drenched in.

Did Eira feel like that whenever she laid eyes upon Ser Wulf? If so, then he felt true and utter sorrow for her. It wasn´t fair to her. Eira didn´t deserve any of it, unlike Adalgund himself.

His departure was swift, with only the necessary courtesy being considered. If it had been up to Eira, the three of them would have stayed for at least an hour, conversing in a carefree manner as they often used to. But times changed, and so did their group dynamic, as much as it pained her to acknowledge that.

Bidding her goodbye, Eira wrapped her arms around him, a gesture which was reciprocated with ease. His hands squeezed her flesh, grasping any warmth and form of comfort he could get. It was clear how much he was suffering, how somber he felt.

Eira couldn´t do much but hold onto the embrace for a few seconds longer, the corners of her mouth twitching into a frown, before she ultimately let go. Upon distancing herself from him with a step backward, she mustered a smile. “Do keep your promise,” she reminded, referencing his previous guarantee of writing her letters.

A twinkle in his eyes made it known that he had no intention of neglecting his obligation. He gave her a quick nod instead of answering, his lips forming a small smile. The way his lips didn´t twitch all the way up conveyed the sadness in his expression, one he miserably failed at hiding.

Estrid stood beside the princess, waiting patiently during their interaction. When Adalgund switched his gaze from her, he and Estrid shared eye contact. It was tense, awkward, and raw. The few seconds in which their gazes met were silent, each thought crossing their mind left unspoken. Several emotions rose from the surface, like waves coming ashore.

Neither could tear their gaze from the other, as uncomfortable as it had been. Before Adalgund could even think about doing anything, Estrid surged forward and pulled him into an embrace. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

As an immediate result of her rash action, his body went rigid. His eyes widened, and his brows shot up. The scent of her hair oil filled his nostrils and clouded his mind like a fog, the blood from his face vanishing, leaving him as pale as a ghost.

Her grip tightened around his neck, showcasing how much she truly missed his warmth. The hug was needy, almost pathetically so. The fog hadn´t disappeared yet, leaving him in a trance. Thus, he leaned into the touch, wrapping his arms around her waist before he could pull himself out of this bewitched state and the hug.

No words were uttered. Only hitched breaths were exchanged.

The moment only held on for fleeting seconds before Adalgund became sober from his hazed state, deliberately loosening his grasp on her waist, before ultimately dropping his arms to his side.

The love he felt for her was tainted, corrupted by the secrets that caused his heartbreak. He couldn´t return to what once was, nor to the idea of their content memories. It only fueled his agony, and thus, he saw no use in holding onto it any longer.

Estrid immediately sensed the absence of his touch and quickly realized what it meant. As much as she wanted to do the exact opposite, she begrudgingly let go of him, retreating to her former spot beside Eira, who had watched their interaction silently.

The air grew thick around them, filled to the brim with tension. It was palpable, as if one could cut through it with a knife. If Eira carried a blade, she´d slice through it in hopes of making it disappear.

A sniffle could be heard beside her. Upon throwing Estrid a glance, she saw the way her bottom lip was sucked in between her teeth, as if refraining from sobbing. The sight tugged at the strings of her heart, and she almost pressed a hand to her chest in reaction. Who would´ve thought that Adalgund´s departure would end like this?

Of course, it had been obvious that it wouldn´t be a joyous occasion, but based on the melancholy that was channeled, one might´ve thought they´d be attending a funeral.

Footsteps echoed throughout the silence, the sound of crunching gravel catching the nobles´ attention. Luckily, the tense-filled moment was interrupted by a servant, who bowed before the three, settling her gaze on the lad. “My Lord, the carriage has been readied for your departure.”

With a quick nod, he dismissed her, and a mask of indifference settled on his face. Neither of the three spoke another word as he turned, facing the vehicle, which he stepped into shortly after.

The grey sky, too dark to yet be equated with the broad daylight, created a somber atmosphere, which fit into the glum nature of this occasion. Eira watched the carriage take off, while a hand grasped her arm, clinging to it desperately. Soon, the sensation of wet clothes followed. To be specific, her sleeve became wetter with each sob that broke from the blonde´s throat.

The moving vehicle soon vanished from their sight, and a certain weight settled between them. Neither spoke of it, but both knew.

—--

Nothing out of the ordinary happened after that- nothing of significance to be worth mentioning. Estrid went on with her duties, as did Eira. None of the two spoke about Adalgund´s absence, and it seemed as if they wordlessly agreed on remaining silent on the matter.

The lack of his presence was palpable. As if a gaping hole, waiting to be filled. Even if he didn´t spend much time at court, Eira already missed his sheepish smile, and she was sure that Estrid felt the same way- even if for an entirely different reason.

Thinking about him made the matter worse- made her miss her friend even more. Thus, she tried to keep herself busy- whether it was reading books, practicing archery at the training grounds, or filling piles of paper with lazy sketches.

And while doing each task absentmindedly, her mind drifted off to her uncle. Why didn´t Canute visit her? Wasn´t he the one to voice his wish for them to connect more before their impending wedding ceremony?

She bit her lip, catching herself messing up a line on the paper mid her train of thought. The pencil fell from between her fingers onto the grass, hidden by the several green strands. Her gaze lifted to the leaves above her, the tree she sat underneath shielding her from the bright and burning sun.

It was a sanctuary for her, offering her a shady place to enjoy the warm weather. Normally, Estrid would have joined her, but she surmised it´d be best to leave her to her thoughts for now. Therefore, she sat alone, breathing in the fresh air while dribbling forms onto the once blank piece of paper in her tiny book.

Her gaze then fell onto the paper again, glancing at the wobbly line that pulled her out of her thoughts. A groan escaped her lips while the frustration took over her features. Why did she have to think about such irrelevant topics? What did she care for if her uncle sought out her presence or not?

Alright. Truth be told, she couldn´t shake off the confusion that arose when thinking about the lack of his presence, when it lay in his interest to spend time with her. Or, that´s what he told her, at least.

She shook her head, forcibly clearing her mind of such thoughts.