Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Tavia had no stomach for food, but she took a small piece of bread to appease her husband.
Bhric kept himself from shaking his head and speared a sizeable piece of meat with his knife and placed it in the trencher in front of his wife. “Eat!”
Her stomach churned at the thought, and she was glad he turned away from her to continue talking with Sven. The night wore on and she grew tired. She wondered if it would be acceptable if she excused herself or must she wait to retire with her husband.
Tavia poked at the meat in front of her while she nibbled at the bread, hoping it appeared as if she was eating more than she was.
The noise in the room suddenly lowered and Tavia was surprised to see an older woman, tall, slim, her gray hair braided and tightly coiled on either side of her head walk with the help of a tall staff toward the dais. Her features were sharp, and wrinkles marred a good portion of her aged face. That everyone eyed her with respect and awe warned Tavia that she was someone of importance.
“I have come to congratulate you and your bride on your marriage and to bless you with a fruitful union,” the old woman said.
“I am grateful, Greta. This is Tavia, my bride,” Bhric said, turning to face her.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Tavia said, and an unease ran through her at the way the woman’s glance slowly examined her. When she finished, Tavia was not surprised to see disappointment on her face.
“If you need anything, I am here to serve you, my lady,” Greta said.
“I am grateful,” Tavia said and unexpectedly added, “but my healer came with me.”
The soft chatter vanished in an instant and she did not dare look at her husband, knowing she would see disapproval in his eyes. Though, she was forced to when he turned to her.
“Greta is an exceptional healer. She will see to your care when necessary.” That it was an order was undeniable, his voice raised and his tone commanding.
She had meant no insult, but she feared that was how everyone saw it.
“I have met, Hertha, your healer,” Greta said. “She is an extremely pleasant and somewhat knowledgeable young woman. I will teach her much and I look forward to helping you birth your first of many bairns.”
Cheers and shouts rang out and fists pounded the tables in joy.
Greta stepped closer to the dais. “We will talk, my lady.”
“Join us,” Bhric offered.
Greta nodded and Sven stood and pulled out the chair beside his wife for the healer.
Bhric leaned his head down toward Tavia once again. “Greta is revered in our tribe. Do not insult her again.”
“I meant no insult, my lord,” Tavia said. “I feel more comfortable with Hertha that was all.”
“Comfortable or not, Greta will tend you when necessary.”
Tavia acknowledged him with a nod and turned to stifle a yawn.
“You are tired?” he asked.
“I am, your lord,” she admitted with hopes he would allow her to retire.
“You have slept and yet you are still tired.” He shook his head. “Find some strength, for we are meant to leave this celebration together and it is far too early for us to do that.”
He turned away from her before she could acknowledge his command. She looked around the Great Hall. She was a stranger here and she worried that she might always be a stranger in her new home. Unless, of course, she found a way to change that, but how? She had kept herself busy at home though if she were truthful with herself, she would admit that after the accident and forced isolation while she healed and the pitiful glances once free to walk about had forced further isolation on her. And she had allowed herself to grow comfortable with it.
She did not think it would be wise to do the same here.
“My lord,” she said softly to get his attention and when he did not respond, she hesitated to rest her hand lightly on his forearm, but fearing it was her only way since she was not prone to raising her voice, she laid her hand on his arm and tried again. “My lord.”
He turned with an angry scowl and Tavia quickly removed her hand.
“What is it?” he snapped. Her gentle touch had startled him and sent a stirring through him, and he had gotten annoyed, the reason for his abrupt retort.
“I was wondering my duties here in the keep,” she said. “So that I may see to them without delay.”
“Marta sees well to the keep.”
“Then what am I to do?” she asked, surprised since running the keep was a wife’s duty.
“Your one and only duty is… me. Make certain you see to it wisely.”
His dark blue eyes reminded her of the dark depths of the sea and how one could not see what lay deep beneath the water. She wondered that now. What lay buried deep down inside him?