The Viking Warrior's Bride. Harper St. George
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Vidar’s surprise, Eirik let out a laugh that rumbled up from deep in his chest. ‘And tell me, Brother, what are the things a Lady should do?’
Again, Vidar was at a loss. What did Merewyn do with herself all day? For the life of him, he didn’t have an answer. She saw to the needs of the children she’d borne his brother and she generally called out orders for meal preparation; but if she did anything else, he hadn’t the slightest notion what it was. He shrugged. ‘Anything she wants as long as she leaves the warriors and the battles to me. I’ll gladly stay out of her way, as long as she stays out of mine.’
Eirik looked at him for a long moment before his lips ticked up in a grin and he shook his head. ‘It strikes me that you are profoundly unsuited to marriage.’
Vidar grinned. ‘It only strikes you now? I’ve been telling you that all winter. I never wanted marriage.’
‘And yet you will do your duty.’ Eirik sobered and fitted him with a level gaze.
‘Aye. I always do my duty to you, Brother. You don’t have to question where my allegiance lies.’
‘I know.’ Eirik nodded. ‘It’s why you would’ve been my first choice for this marriage. I only chose Magnus because I know you’re not ready, but due to the circumstances...here we are. Ready or not.’
Vidar nodded. He’d spent the past few months coming to terms with that. While he was still bitter, he had come to accept his duty. ‘I still feel that Magnus made a mistake. This place was meant for him.’ He spread his arms out wide to encompass the entirety of the manor and the village beyond. Magnus was a leader who had flourished building the settlement. He was meant to lead a colony. To defend rather than attack. ‘Magnus could’ve been a king here. And yet he chose a mere settlement and a lowborn Saxon.’ Vidar had struggled not to resent his friend for his choice.
‘He chose the woman who held his heart,’ Eirik said. ‘Much as I did.’
‘It’s not the same. You left our home to come to the Saxon lands and now you live as a king. You bettered your fortune. You still had adventure. You didn’t give it all away.’
‘Is that all that matters to you?’ Eirik narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Adventure? Treasure? Battle? What’s left after all of that? One day you’ll have found more treasure than you can hold and more adventure than your old bones can handle. What then?’
One day Vidar might be too old to travel, but it wouldn’t be for a very long time. The answer was simple. ‘When that day comes—I die. I’ll die in battle and take my place in Valhalla.’
‘But what if you could have a little taste of that feast in Valhalla before you go?’
Eirik had lost his reasoning somewhere along the way. Vidar shook his head. ‘You’re mad, Brother. Are you trying to say that my betrothed could provide me with a taste of the pleasures to be had after my death?’
Eirik’s eyes brightened and he smiled. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
It was Vidar’s turn to laugh. ‘The only pleasure that woman has in mind is the pleasure she’ll have when my ballocks are served to her at her table.’
‘You could change your approach,’ his brother countered. ‘She may want to be a warrior, but she’s not. You can’t win her over by defeating her.’
Vidar snorted and shook his head, walking towards his warriors on the sparring field.
‘Try it, Brother,’ Eirik called after him. ‘A warm wife is better than a cold one.’
Vidar only shook his head again. That woman wanted to be married to him about as much as he wanted to be married to her. He’d wed her, bed her and then figure out a way to leave her behind as he went on his next adventure. They’d both be happier with that arrangement.
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