Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(13)
“A little.” What I meant was I’d spent little time thinking of anything else.
“You love her.” His sharp gaze saw everything, likely saw the situation better than I saw it for myself.
My answer got lost somewhere inside. I couldn’t recall a time when my infatuation with Mikaela hadn’t existed. I loved talking with her, loved her zest for life, loved that she wasn’t afraid of anything. But that didn’t mean I loved her, did it?
Thankfully, Torvald said nothing more and tore off a hunk of ham and cheese.
My best course of action was to change the subject. “After you’re done with your fare, we’ll ride into town and begin questioning priests.”
He nodded and chewed.
“Good. I shall meet you at the stables at half past the hour.”
He swallowed, then picked up his ale and swished the liquid in a circular motion inside the mug. “I can wait. Take as long as you need.”
Again, I paused. Did Torvald know I was going to visit Mikaela? Now, before the rest of the household stirred? Of course, Bernhard’s children would already be awake. I needn’t worry that I’d find her or them yet asleep.
Torvald took a sip.
I stared at him. Torvald had never once encouraged me to spend time with a woman. Most of the time he admonished me against it.
He placed his mug back onto the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “When I said take as long as you need, I meant with her, not me.” Was he hiding a grin?
I felt a grin twitching my lips. “Why? When you’re such joyous company, I can hardly bear to pull myself away from you.”
One of his rare smiles finally made an appearance.
With a chuckle, I strode off. If only I could figure out a way to see Mikaela without Nanna supervising every second. In fact, I suspected Nanna would hug me and talk to me for a few minutes before detecting my ulterior motives for visiting and shooing me out of the nursery.
It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be in Romsdal long. Most likely, our quest here would end the same way it had at other places, with someone remembering when the chalice had once been within a Stavekirche or abbey before it had been moved to another secret location elsewhere in Norvegia.
The problem was that our time was running short, and the prospect of war loomed in the nigh future. With the spring thaw, we expected King Canute of neighboring Swaine to resume his efforts to take Norvegia’s throne. Hailing from Norvegia’s royal Oldenberg lineage, he believed he had more right to our country’s throne than Ansgar. We could only pray that Ansgar’s possession of the Sword of the Magi would deter Canute, but we didn’t know for certain.
More importantly, time was running out because Queen Elisbet—Queen Lis, as she preferred to be called—had started bleeding from a curse supposedly passed down to the firstborn daughters in the royal family. And it was believed the chalice could heal her.
We’d been unable to discover the relic to save King Ulrik. Now Torvald and I, like Ansgar, were growing more desperate. We’d failed one king and couldn’t fail another, especially Ansgar, who was like a brother to us.
As I wound through the passageways toward the wing of the castle reserved for the nursery, I picked up my pace. I was tempted to whistle the merry tune on the tip of my tongue. But I held it back, not wanting to alert anyone of my presence, especially Mikaela. I couldn’t give her the chance to hide before I saw her.
Upon reaching the door to the several chambers where the children spent most of their time, I paused, my mind returning to the many years I’d lived in these very rooms. Nanna had always been a mixture of firm and tender, never afraid to discipline her charges, but always showering us with genuine love.
While my memories of my mother had faded over the years, I did remember that I’d never felt the same unconditional acceptance and love from her that I did from Nanna. Most of the time, I’d felt as though I was some sort of prize that she’d given my father as a second son.
The other thing I remembered about my mother was that she’d worn a veil of sadness every bit as real as the veil she wore over her hair. Even when she’d smiled at me, the sadness had lingered in the tilt of her lips and in the shadows of her eyes.
In some ways, her passing from my life had freed me to love Nanna without any more worry of hurting my mother’s feelings.
Not bothering to knock, I cracked open the door and peeked inside. Two little blond-haired girls sat side by side on a bench in front of the hearth fire, one slightly taller than the other. Though their backs were facing me, I could see that both were already attired in simple but pretty tunics. And Mikaela stood behind them—her back also facing me—brushing the taller one’s hair.
She was in the middle of telling the girl something but paused. “Good morning, Nanna. I thought I told you to slumber later so that you can rid yourself of your chill.”
I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. “If only I could blame a chill for my sleeplessness last night.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and then cast me a glance, the brush halfway through the sheen of hair. My nieces swiveled as well, their eyes widening at the sight of me.
“Instead, I blame you for keeping me awake.” I flashed her a grin.
She cocked her head toward her charges, clearly warning me that I needed to keep my suggestive comments appropriate for innocent ears.