Chapter 2
The noise and bustle of the hall swirled all around, but Svanhild sat silently, like the still water at the centre of the storm. She felt poised and ready, her muscles tight and her heartbeat quick. The time had not yet come, but every moment gave her a chance to get closer to Klaus. She wanted to learn more about her father's death - to eliminate the last of the doubts, and to expose all of her uncle's secrets.
When Margit swam up beside her, reaching for an oyster from the women's table, Svanhild spotted an opportunity.
“I've been meaning to talk to you,” she said, sending the softest whisper of a thought across the distance between them. Was she imagining the nervous expression on Margit's face?
“I've been very busy,” Margit said, one hand smoothing along the rope netting that separated off the women's corner of the hall. She didn't meet Svanhild's eyes. How much did she know?
Svanhild kept her thoughts careful and controlled.
“I need to ask you about my father. About how he died.”
“We all know how he died.” Margit's thoughts were flat and unemotional. “There's nothing else to tell you.”
“Please, be honest with me, Margit.”
“I've told you everything I have to say. Stop asking.”
Margit swung around and swam away, the oyster still in her hand. She squeezed herself into another group of women, leaving Svanhild alone. What was she hiding?
Once upon a time, Margit and Svanhild's mother had been the closest of friends. When Svanhild found herself an orphan, Margit had cared for her and loved her. Safe and secure, Svanhild had adored her new mother.
But, over time, things had changed. Klaus became colder, more distant. Margit became sadder. And then Katrina arrived, taking Margit's place as Klaus's lover, if not his wife. Klaus was not foolish enough to throw away the political connections that came with a woman like Margit. And poor Margit was not foolish enough to expect that her own clan would take back a childless middle-aged woman.
Klaus had hurt all the people he should have loved the most. How dare he sit there in the hall and hand out food like a good lord? He was as false as the so-called rubies that dripped from his fingers. Svanhild almost felt sick just looking at him across the length of the hall.
When Klaus left his place at the table and drifted up into the rafters of the hall, high above everyone else, Svanhild frowned. What was going on?
“Good people of the Icy Shores!”
Klaus's words boomed around the hall, echoing through the minds of everyone there. Chatter stopped and the music died away as everyone looked upwards, turning their attention to their lord. Svanhild studied each face. Who else might suspect what he had done?
“I have exciting news this evening,” Klaus continued, catching Svanhild's attention again.
“We are honoured with a visit by Lerritz of the Endless Deeps, here on behalf of his lord, Harald of the Endless Deeps.”
A murmur of interest spread across the hall. Svanhild's frown deepened. What business did Klaus have with the southern selkie lords? She didn't like this.
The envoy, a large, muscled man, covered in battle tattoos, swam up to hover just a little below Klaus. His eyes swept the hall, dismissing Svanhild with a glance - and then freezing on a point just behind her. Slowly, almost afraid, she looked over her shoulder.
Aleksander hovered in the far corner of the hall, alone and half-hidden by the shadows. He met the envoy's gaze unblinkingly, his hands relaxed as he held the remains of a fish.
“I will not discuss our alliance while that man sits in your hall,” the envoy said, his words ringing clear and true through the water. He never looked away from Aleksander.
“He is a traitor, a murderer, and a desecrater,” the envoy continued, his words burning with power as they slammed into each mind. “He killed my uncle, and my honour will not let me feast alongside him.”
Klaus sank a little in the water, resting one hand on the man's shoulder. The gesture looked fatherly, but Svanhild could almost feel the falseness radiating from him.
“Lerritz, I understand your anger,” Klaus said, his tone conciliatory. ”But we cannot make peace if we hold on to grudges from past generations. Aleksander is my man now, and he carries out my orders. He will do no more harm to your family - but I will not hear any word spoken against him in my hall.”
The tension drifting through the water was so thick that Svanhild could hardly breathe, her magic frozen in place as she waited for what would happen next.
The envoy gazed at Klaus, his lips pressed hard together. Did words pass between them? Svanhild looked across the hall at Margit, who had gone white. Her aunt had always heard thoughts more clearly than others.
The tension dragged out for a moment longer until, at last, the envoy inclined his head.
“As you wish, my lord. I will do no harm to this man in your hall. I promise nothing if I ever encounter him outside the borders of the Icy Shores. But for now, I bring only peace.”
Svanhild shivered. The envoy's words sounded too much like a threat - perhaps even a promise. She glanced over at Aleksander, who still waited alone, in the shadows.
“Don't even look at him,” Margit said quietly, inches away from Svanhild's ear. How had she returned so quietly?
“Who?” Svanhild asked, but Margit just shook her head.
“He's dangerous, that man. I won't say any more, but I want you to stay away from him.”
She swam away again, her thoughts too tightly hidden for Svanhild to probe further. What did she mean? What unspeakable thing could quiet, serious Aleksander possibly have done? A dark, unwelcome thought flickered into her brain. Handsome or not, Aleksander was Klaus's man now. What might he have done to earn that place? Would he have killed his former master? She didn't know Aleksander at all.
“And now, we come to the true reason for this feast,” Klaus called, and Svanhild jerked out of her unpleasant thoughts. She didn't look back at Aleksander, focusing on Klaus instead.
“As you all know, these are dangerous times for all selkies. If the Icy Shores are to prosper, we need allies. So I am delighted to announce that we have sealed an alliance with the Endless Deeps.”
Svanhild joined everyone in applauding politely. What did a faraway southern lordship have to do with the Icy Shores? The Endless Deeps lay hundreds of miles away and had their own problems, with the fearsome Dolphin People battering at their borders.
“Svanhild?”
Klaus appeared beside her, addressing her directly. She had missed something.
“My lord?” she asked politely. He smiled, his teeth unsettlingly sharp.
“I am delighted to announce the betrothal of my niece, the Lady Svanhild of the Icy Shores, to the great Earl Harald of the Endless Deeps.”
A gasp of surprise rippled around the hall, followed almost instantly by a wave of applause. It was a sensible alliance, the rational part of Svanhild's mind told her. The Endless Deeps were rich and powerful, Harald one of the wealthiest selkie lords. These newcomer southerners, their territory carved out of the Dolphin People’s land, would consider it a coup to marry into an ancient house like Icy Shores.
But her anger was not rational.
“I have agreed to nothing,” she announced, sending the words out as loudly as she could, feeling extra magic spark in her veins from the effort. “I will marry when I choose to marry, and I have not chosen Harald of the Endless Deeps.”
Against her will, she let her eyes flick to Aleksander. He leaned forward, his gaze intent on her face. She looked away.
Silence filled the hall. No doubt everyone spoke amongst themselves, but Svanhild heard nothing.
Klaus burst into laughter, the sound loud and abrasive in Svanhild's mind.
“A true lady of the Icy Shores!” he said, wrapping one arm around Svanhild's shoulder and smiling down at her. “She knows her own value! But please don't worry, my dear. Earl Harald is a powerful man, well deserving of a lady like yourself. And you will, of course, have time to meet him before you are officially bound.”
The hall filled with murmurs of agreement, and even a little laughter. Svanhild's hands began to shake from the effort of holding in her furious response. Not here. Not in front of everyone.
“Don't make a scene like that again,” Klaus said, speaking to her alone. “If you humiliate me in front of the Endless Deeps men, you'll regret it. And I will tell you this: you will be marrying Harald. Whether you agree to it or not. Do your duty.”
He pulled out of her mind so sharply that it left her dizzy. What kind of strength did her uncle have that he could creep past all her walls and straight into her mind? She shook her head and made the mistake of looking up. Aleksander still watched her, his eyes dark and blank. She felt a tingle of warmth as she gazed back. Had he always been so handsome?
“Drink with the envoy,” Klaus said, pushing her forwards. Svanhild took the drinking bubble he offered, breaking the seal and sucking in a quick gasp of human whiskey before passing it over to the envoy. Her body seemed to move without her mind intervening at all. Whether Klaus had enspelled her or not no longer mattered. She was just a pawn to him - a foolish, weak woman to be married off when he chose. Just one of many women to use as necessary.
She smiled at the envoy, hating every inch of his face.
What help would the men of the Endless Deeps be to her? How could she learn about her father if she travelled hundreds of miles from his home? West, to the Firelands, she could have learnt to live with. That had been her mother's home, on the rocky shores where the land spat liquid fire. But the south? That could never be her home?
A smile on her face and twisted panic in her heart, Svanhild hovered beside her uncle, drinking everything he gave her, and barely taking her eyes off Aleksander. So much for revenge - she couldn't even manage her own fate.