Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“I could have done a lot of things. I did what I did.”
He’s completely unrepentant. I still hardly know Thor. Our relationship mostly revolves around theft and revenge, and I guess now we’re adding being outcast to the mix. I wonder if he’s annoyed at having to leave Direview with me, or if it is a relief.
One thing I am starting to become aware of is the privilege he comes from. He was playing poor in Direview, but it's now apparent he comes from money and power, two things I have never had.
We alight from the carriage together and approach the house. Thor keeps my hand in his. He’s keeping me under control in as limited way as possible. He doesn’t want it to look like he's worried about me. His big hand over mine is a substitute for a collar and leash around my neck.
We’re almost at the ornate door when it creaks open as if by its own will.
“You did not send word of your coming, Thor.” A woman’s voice emanates from the interior. “We have not had time to prepare for guests.”
“I am not bringing guests. I am bringing my things.”
Sassy. And hardly an appropriate way to introduce me to his mother. She’s probably going to be shocked and appalled.
We’re not going in, I notice. We’re just standing here, waiting for something. Permission? An invitation? Who knows. After another long moment or two, a figure emerges from the shadows within. Thor makes his introductions dutifully. I can’t help but notice that there is no filial joy here. Not a close family, not in the traditional way.
“Anita, this is my mother. Skathi, this is Anita.”
Skathi is tall and thin and icy, from her frost-colored hair to her flinty eyes. She is clad in a dark dress with lace accents, understated, but menacing. When looking at this woman, I see the end of all things. I shake the feeling off. Making snap judgements about a person is wrong, especially if you think they are literally the end of the world.
“Hello,” I say. “I’m Anita. I’m from England. I killed a man with a hammer.”
Skathi looks over my head at her son. “This is the woman you bring home? This hearth has seen nothing but ash for years, and now an English woman with no verbal filter enters our sacred space?”
“I am invading you lot,” I joke. “Turning the tables. You know. Like, the Viking thing?” I make general Viking sounds and motions, which are harder and vaguer than one might imagine. There is a part of me that knows I am making a fucking idiot of myself. There is another part that finds that funny. And then there's another part that is curling up in a ball and hiding from mortification.
“I’m going to take her upstairs,” Thor says apologetically. “She's tired. She's not usually this…”
“I am usually this, though,” I say. “I’m usually worse. I haven't called anybody a cunt yet. Oh, there I go.”
“What are you doing?" Thor growls in my ear.
“I’m not going to make a good impression, so what’s the point in trying?”
He drags me upstairs. At first, I can’t make out my surroundings. This house is kept in the dark. The curtains are drawn. The great windows are pretty from the outside, but they do nothing for the inhabitants. Skathi clearly cares not for light.
By the time I am bundled into a room, my eyes have started to adjust. That just means they are shocked once more when Thor throws the curtains open and casts the whole room in light.
It is sparsely furnished. I do not have much chance to observe the finer points of my surroundings, because Thor has me by the shoulders and is filling my vision.
“Really, Anita. You can't hold your tongue for one moment? Not even two minutes of polite behavior?”
“Your mum doesn’t seem happy to see us.”
"She doesn't like being visited on short notice.”
“Sure, she was busy sitting in the dark and then we show up and get in the way of all that…”
"You don't know what you’re talking about. As usual. You speak before you think. You speak before you see.”
“Your mum hates me.” I saw the distaste in her expression. I heard it in her voice. Thor’s wrong when he says I don't see or think. I do both faster than he realizes. I knew within seconds that my presence here was not welcome and might not even be tolerated.
“No. My mother knows whoever joins me in partnership will have a painful and difficult life.”
“Oh, excellent. Really selling this here, you know.”
“I don’t need to sell this to you. You’re already caught up in it so tightly you couldn't escape if you wanted to. I’m trying to explain the dynamics here so you find it slightly easier to exist.”