Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(111)

The first two tutorials began with Frey in attendance but he didn’t stay long, leaving the boy with me after Skylar’s attention was turned from his fear to his work. The ensuing days without Frey it took me longer to settle him in. But today he was settled and I was giving him space to work through his assignment without me hovering.

And I was thinking about Frey, where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe and lastly, the two days we shared before he and his men rowed away.

To say the adela tea heightened our awareness of each other was a vast understatement.

And it didn’t only succeed in this sexually but in every way.

In our short time together, I’d attuned to Frey’s moods, tones and learned his expressions. Now I read him easily just with a glance at the line of his frame, the set of his jaw or the look in his eye.

And there was something so superbly intimate about this it was hard to take in, the immense beauty of it, the intense feeling of connection with the man you loved. Not only being so attuned to Frey but knowing he was just that attuned to me. It did not make me feel exposed, it made me feel safe, protected, like I belonged somewhere and to someone and, since my parents died, throughout all my roaming, I had not felt either.

It was a beautiful thing to have back, a treasure, the best gift I’d ever received.

For Frey, post-adela tea meant something more. He was the kind of man who was not afraid of showing gentleness and affection but he was also the kind of man who had things to do and he did them. But after our afternoon in his cabin, more often than not he wanted to do these things with me close.

Therefore, his last day aboard, as we stood behind the wheel on the bridge deck, his hands on the spiked handles, me in front of him, we sailed the emerald waters of the Green Sea, our eyes on the horizon. As we did, Frey often bent to speak to me, his mouth at my ear, or, if I had something to say, I turned to him, my mouth at his and we whispered to each other for hours.

It was magnificent, not what we said so much as how we did it.

And I’d learned why he received his salutes from men of fist to chin and from women of chin to neck. The fist to chin was the salute of The Drakkar, a manly salute. The chin to neck was the salute of The Frey, considered a feminine salute. These were his due, as if he was king, and if anyone caught his eye, they were obligated to give it to him.

I’d also learned that he didn’t get these salutes from the people of Houllebec because the first adela tree, the most sacred one in all of Lunwyn, was in the forest close to the village and thus why he had his hunting cabin there and often where he met with the elves. He was there regularly, if not often. Because of this, most of his men had cottages there. And he had long since communicated to the villagers that they did not have to salute. This was something he found tedious for if they saluted, he’d have to return a nod and he did not enjoy walking through the village or having a horn of ale at a pub and constantly needing to meet eyes and tip his chin.

I could totally see that. At the Winter Palace practically everyone bobbed a curtsy to me. I was cool with smiling and saying “hi” but those curtsies felt weird, seeing as I was not born a princess and did not grow up being entitled to them. And acknowledging required more effort than a smile or a passing “hello”. It didn’t actually require it, but it seemed to and I guessed (and shared this with Frey, who concurred) that it was the constant reminder of my responsibilities as princess and the fact that their show of respect was required, not earned, that made it so.

During our talk Frey had asked (and I’d answered) about what Princess Sjofn had shared with me in her letter. We’d also discussed why she did not relate the information that he was The Frey or The Drakkar or various other tidbits that would have been extremely helpful to know such as, say, someone had tried to assassinate her.

Although we discussed this (at length) neither of us came up with an answer and eventually I gently closed the conversation. This was because it was clear Sjofn was not Frey’s favorite person. It was not that he wasn’t pleased with the outcome of her play but because he was seriously displeased that in making it, she committed what was considered an act of treason against the realm and he was not a big fan of how and when she’d maneuvered my entry into their world.

Although it wasn’t for Sjofn, I took this as good news that Frey, Atticus and Aurora all considered Sjofn’s actions an act of treason. First, knowing this, she wouldn’t want to return (for the punishment for treason was hanging which, obviously, anyone would wish to avoid) and second, for this reason, Atticus and Aurora would not want her return. And if she faced that, what it would mean for Lunwyn as a whole for, if hung by the neck until dead, obviously, she could not bear a child who would sit on the throne and assure peace for the land but, instead, political maneuvering (already unpleasant, to say the least, what with daggers and poison involved) would careen out-of-control.

So I took this as good news (for me) because, with all of that, they all would be less likely to want me to go home and more likely to wish me to stay.

Discussing Sjofn led me to thinking (and sharing with Frey) that there were a number of questions and contradictions about her behavior. There were things she did that were thoughtless and selfish and others that were neither. I couldn’t help but think that Frey was wrong about her and this was because she had the devotion of all her maidservants. It was clear Sjofn didn’t think like Frey did about the different classes. They were not her maidservants, they were her friends, her confidants and she was theirs. And I couldn’t imagine my girls caring for a woman who did not deserve their emotion.