Besotted by Hedlund Jody

Author:Hedlund, Jody
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Young Adult
Publisher: Northern Lights Press
Published: 2020-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

15

Kresten

By the time we reached Birchwood, I was exhausted beyond endurance. With my identity as a prince now public knowledge, I drew attention the moment I hobbled into the village. Everyone, including Walter, wanted to earn my favor, giving me the best they had to offer. In the past, I would have enjoyed the groveling and flattery, but somehow I’d lost my taste for it.

I hadn’t planned to stay long in the village, only intended to spread the word that I was mended and back in my corner of the woods, with the hope of the news reaching my brothers eventually. However, because of my fatigue, I accepted food and lodging from Walter with the stipulation that I would repay him with wood as soon as I could.

I slumbered restlessly, my dreams filled with Rory. I’d been away from her but a day and already I was weary of the parting, desiring nothing more than to be with her. Several times, I considered going back to her on the morrow and marrying her right away. But my charge from the Testing whispered in my head: Deny thyself. Deny thyself. Deny thyself.

Alas, my thoughts circled back to the same conclusion—no matter how difficult, I had to persevere and finish my Testing.

When I awoke the next morn in the dormer room Walter had provided, I rolled over on my pallet, stiff and cold, to find Jorg gone and sunlight streaming through the holes in the thatch above me.

Voices rose from the living space below. Many voices.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. At the waft of roasting game, my stomach rumbled. The need for food and drink prodded me to my feet. After the few weeks of eating Aunt Elspeth’s bountiful cooking, I would have to adjust again to stark rations. But for today, I would indulge in a meal.

After donning my garments and tying back my hair, I climbed down the ladder, my injury slowing my descent. At the sight of me, the room fell silent. When I reached the bottom and pivoted, I wasn’t surprised to find every pair of eyes upon me. But I was surprised to see both of my brothers sitting at a long table near the hearth.

Mikkel rose first, his light-blue eyes skimming over me, likely accurately assessing everything about me in one keen glance. His expression remained passive, never giving his emotions away, as usual. His hair, the lightest of all three of us, was pulled back into a leather strip in a manner similar to mine. Other than tanner skin and shabbier garments, he remained unchanged and the handsomest of us three.

Vilmar pushed away from the table and stood as well. But his face lit up at the sight of me, his easy grin emerging. While we three brothers all had our father’s light-blue eyes, Vilmar and I looked most alike with our brown hair and build. We also shared similar amiable and good-natured temperaments.

“There you are.” Vilmar crossed toward me. “The woodcutter himself.”

I smiled in return.

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