Blood Moon| The Last Kingdom| Sihtric Kjartansson

THIRTY-SEVEN

Beside the practise letter was another one. This one was from Edward.

He had assured me that Uhtred was blinded by greed and only needed me so long as Bebbanburg was out of reach. Once he had his home, Edward believed Uhtred would return to his side and swear an oath, or at the very least, he would swear to Aethelflaed of Mercia.

I trusted Edward about as much as I trusted the wind to carry me through the sky, but that did not mean his letter did not inspire anger and doubt. I was already scrambling to make peace with all my allies, I did not wish to feel threatened that they would leave me after I had served my purpose to them.

I groaned loudly, dropping my head into my hands and digging my fingers into my scalp, my elbow knocking into something hard as I wallowed in self-pity.

The smell of wood burning forced me to open my eyes again, and I yelped as both letters on my desk caught on fire, burning quickly from the candle holder I had knocked over across my desk.

I rose quickly, picking up the candle and blowing it out before tossing it onto the chair, grabbing at the edges of the paper and trying to blow it out as well.

A knock sounded on my bedroom door. "Gyda?"

"Damn you," I huffed, staring up at the ceiling where I imagined Freyja would be looking down at me, laughing at her punishment of me for not getting out of my head.

"Gyda, I can smell smoke. Is everything okay?" Sihtric's voice grew a little more nervous, and his heart jumped from behind the door.

I tossed the papers to the floor as the flames licked at my fingers, and I grabbed the pitcher of water I kept on the desk as well, pouring it over the floor.

Smoke rose steadily, and I glared at it before turning my face to the door and smoothing out my dress, "You may come in."

Sihtric's heart leapt again, this time in relief, and a moment later, my door was pushed open, and he stepped inside.

Life in Dunholm was treating him well, too. He adorned the finest dark leathers and new armour, engraved with the emblem of a wolf, which was the new symbol of Dunholm. He had washed and braided his hair anew and he stood before me a new man though it had only been ten days.

He had given me space after I had become angry with him. He had not sought me out but he had left little trinkets at my door every morning and every night: flowers, pebbles, birds that he'd taught to sit and wait, fruit and even, a dagger. 

It was difficult to be angry with him for a long time.

"What happened?" Sihtric frowned slightly, eyeing the ash on my floor.

I cleared my throat, tossing my hair over my shoulder with a small shrug, "I decided to get rid of some things."

Sihtric raised his brow slowly, his face turning to the fire pit in the middle of my room, "I see."

I flushed lightly, turning away from him and darting back over to my table, placing the candle where it belonged before I sat down and stared into the mirror. "How can I help you?"

He was amused, the bastard, as he watched me, his hands sliding into the pockets of his armour. "You did not come to lunch."

I picked up my hair brush, "I was busy speaking to Freyja."