“Mm,” Frey murmured.
Frey felt his friend’s eyes. “You don’t agree?”
“I’ve no idea where that mouth has been. Or that cunt,” Frey replied.
“Must say, speaking true, I wouldn’t care about that either,” Thaddeus returned.
Frey thought of her hair all over the armrest, her smile, her cleavage.
Then he thought of her fervent return of his kiss after they were wed, a return that made his blood heat and his cock begin to get hard as her tongue played hungrily with his and her arms glided around his neck, holding him tight. It wasn’t a passable kiss. It wasn’t even good.
What it was, was the best embrace by far he’d ever shared.
Something else that did not sit right for that was something else that was not Princess Sjofn.
He’d been infuriated at her drunken admission years ago when King Atticus had started his campaign to win Frey Drakkar as his son-in-law. He’d been infuriated because she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he wanted her the instant he saw her even, maybe especially because she was wearing breeches.
His new wife had a spectacular arse and even better legs.
Then he found out what she was.
Frey had no issue with guenipes.
But he wanted no wife who did not want him, no matter her beauty.
But, after that kiss, after she’d demonstrated how very well she could pretend, Frey had to admit, Thaddeus’s words held merit.
“The ship awaits, Thad,” Frey muttered, putting an end to their short conversation.
“Indeed, Frey,” Thad muttered back.
They turned their horses, touched heels to flanks and they were away.
Chapter Five
Welcome Home
Six weeks later…
“Woo hoo!” I cried, feeling the rush of cold air coming in behind me as someone entered the pub.
I ignored it to crow my victory, my arms straight up over my head and I grinned at the men sharing the table with me before I dropped my arms and leaned in, pulling the pile of coin toward me.
“Are you sure I taught you this game two short weeks ago, Princess Finnie?” Laurel grumbled at me from my right, watching his money come toward my big pile.
“Mm hmm, swear,” I nodded, turned my head, lifted my hand to cross my heart and smiled big at him, “cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Right,” Ulysses muttered from my left and I swung my smile at him to see him smiling back showing me he held no ill-will. Then again, we were playing for what was, essentially, pennies so it wasn’t like they owed me the notes on their cottages.
I reached for the rough deck of cards, my fingers deftly organizing them in order to shuffle as I declared, “My deal.”
“Make sure she doesn’t do it from the bottom, Uly, she may be the mother of our future king but I don’t put anything passed her,” Frederick, across from me, said to Ulysses even though I knew he was kidding.
He liked me
In fact, most of the village of Houllebec did. And the only people in the village (that I knew of) who didn’t were people I had not met.
My adventure may have not started all that great but it got a whole lot better.
First, I found a side saddle in the stable (as well as a big washing tub with one of those grinder things to wring out clothes so I could wash my clothes and I did, using that thing, though, it must be said it wasn’t my favorite thing to do especially since I had to hang everything all around the house and it took forever to dry and messed with the cozy, rustic cabin vibe I had going).
I knew how to ride, just not side saddle, but I loaded the saddle on one of my grays, figured out how to lug my ass up on it and, the very next day after I arrived, I followed our tracks into the village I quickly learned was called Houllebec.
And I’d gone every day since.
The village was awesome. It didn’t only look cool, it was cool. It had two warm, clean, fun pubs, both that served excellent food and both had inns because people travelled there to use the hot springs that were hidden all through the hills – this a moneymaker for the townsfolk as the hot springs were well known and the people who sought them brought loads of “coin”. It had a bakery that made magnificent bread, tarts, cakes and even pastries. They had a butcher, a small dressmaker, a market that had staples and not-so-staples including some fresh veg on occasion and even bright-colored delicious candy and sumptuous chocolate they brought in (stocked all the time!) and homemade fudge they made right in the window. It had a blacksmith, an iron works, a stable, a mill and other such cool-as-shit, remote village-in-a-frozen-parallel-world stuff.
I wandered the town daily and sometimes stayed as late as dinner, which I ate in the pubs, and beyond so I could have a few ales, chat and play cards with new friends.