Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Alfred

T he wood splits with a satisfying crack under my axe.

My breath makes a cloud before me as I work. It is still fucking freezing, but the snow does not settle here in the way that it does in the clan lands, which are higher up in the foothills of the great mountain range.

I line up another log on the chopping block, heft my axe, and swing.

My lungs ache a little. The doctor said it might take a few months before that goes away, but there is no reason I should not make a full recovery.

Exercise is good for me, and my body is used to training.

Crack. Another log splits, and I line up the next before swinging the axe.

We have people who can do this, but I enjoy good, honest work, and I suspect I always will.

I pause, lean up, and look out across the rolling lands. The wood stores are set a little distance from the main home on the edge of the woods that curves protectively around the north of the house, a rambling two-story brick building that can only be described as a mansion.

Ellerdene. Our new home and the estate that was gifted to me by the king to go with my knighthood and title of lord.

It has a pretty name to go with a pretty land, even at this time of year when it is fucking freezing, and the frost sparkles across the grazing lands, melting under the bright morning sun.

Lining up another block, I resume my chopping.

I am an alpha and a barbarian. It is fair to say I come with a greater than average measure of pride. My role as a protector is deeply steeped in who I am. As the eldest of five brothers and a sister, my protectiveness toward them was instinctive. As first a warrior, and then the clan king, that extended beyond my family and covered all.

It is a role I am familiar with, one that fills me with purpose. So it is a strange turnaround of events that I find a tiny, but deadly, Hydorian lass has turned protector of me.

It is hard for a man like me to accept weakness. My body had other plans in the wake of the poisoning.

It has been a humbling experience.

At Penelope's insistence, the wedding was delayed, and we traveled many miles to the south and east of the Pershore to our new estate and home, where I could rest and recuperate.

The castle and city are imposing, and while I can appreciate their beauty, there is a large gulf between them and the simpler clan village I am used to.

My new home, Ellerdene, where we will likely live for many decades to come, bridges the gap. The rolling farmlands for grazing or crops, the large swathes of forest, the pretty river that runs through it, and the half a dozen villages that make up the estate have beguiled me as much as my fierce princess.

The doctor came with us, checking on me twice a day at the start.

It did not escape my notice that during the worst of it, and when I struggled to leave the bed, my woman was fertile. It drove me near insensible not being able to have her how I needed—how she needed, too.

The dizzying scent all up in my nose, the knowledge that she was ripe for breeding while I, her mate, was incapable of doing so, was the bitterest of blows.

The doctor, satisfied with my recovery, has returned to the city.

Time has healed me.

It has also allowed Penelope and I to know more about one another, and for me to see new wonders in this woman I have chosen as a life mate.

I fell in love with a wayward brat, but I fall deeper in love with a woman who has been so caring and attentive to me in my moment of vulnerability and who seems to have settled with ease into the role of lady of this house.

She's always laughing about some nonsense or other and is never downtrodden by life or events. One might presume her life has been easy, but her challenges are merely different from the ones of ordinary people.

Her great-aunt disdained me at first. She's a nosy old bat, but I can see a deep, loving friendship between her and Penelope. And she has filled the role missing in a mother and a grandmother who are both at the Goddess's side.

We have a small garrison here. Dick, Wendle and Poach joined it: Poach, accompanied by his new wife, Evie, who has found a place for herself as a maid.

The three soldiers integrated well with the garrison men already here and brought their experience. We will, of course, travel often to the city given my mate is a princess and still has duties as such.

I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow and stand up and stretch, enjoying the slight ache in my muscles—enjoying a reason to be outside and doing something rather than sitting on my ass.

She is going to become fertile again soon. I can sense it.

Both her lustiness and the knowledge that I will be well enough to do something about it this time is front and center in my mind.

She wants my knot. I am yet to give it to her. But I am thinking that it will be soon.

Penelope

I have had a busy morning. Alfred left early, saying that he was going to chop some wood. I want to roll my eyes at my mate, who is both a knight and a lord, choosing to chop wood. Perhaps a younger version of me would. This version appreciates that it is who he is and that he enjoys these simple tasks, and, further, it endears him to everyone on the estate.

They whisper about him, saying he is different from other lords. He has a strange, gruff charm that everybody takes to. So, although many of the servants and workers here found his ways curious initially, they quickly came to accept him.

He has changed me, too; of that there is no doubt.

When I thought I might lose him, I understood how very much I loved him and how quickly that had come about. I understand that Alfred is special and that I am blessed that he picked me—forever grateful that he decided I was a brat who needed taming and set about doing exactly that.

"The bed is full to overflowing, my lady," Evie says with an approving grin.

Wedded to Poach, she joined the household staff when her husband joined the estate garrison. She has a few different duties and is a sweet lass, always ready with a smile.

I plant my hands on my hips and admire the bed. While Alfred has been busy chopping wood, Wendle has been lugging an entire cartload of rustic bedding materials to our room.

All the old bedding has been removed. There is not a scrap of silk or flounce on the bed at all now.

"It looks properly barbarian," Evie adds in a low whisper, as though the mere mention of it is scandalous. "Happen he will like it. Him being a barbarian and all."

"Yes," I agree. "I believe he will."

Our sturdy four-poster bed is deeply covered in thick, luxurious furs, pelts, and rustic blankets sourced in secret from his former clan. His brother, now the king, was congenial to a trade. They took a dozen sacks of our best-quality milled wheat, hams, cheese, and no small amount of barreled beer.

I cannot wait for Alfred to discover what I have done, although I admit I am also a little nervous about it, too.

Maybe he likes the soft silks. I know he likes me in my gowns.

"So are you going to put the dress on, too, afore he comes back, my lady?"

I bite my lower lip, thinking it over. "I'm not sure," I say. "He does favor my silk gowns."

"Oh, yes, my lady," she says, grinning broadly. "I have noticed as much."

I am not one for blushing, but my cheeks gain a little heat. Alfred is not a man to be deterred when he has a mind to rutting... And his mind is on rutting most of the time. I'm sure the servants gossip about us. But I have long since ceased to care. I know they are often up to mischief themselves, sneaking into little alcoves and places that they probably shouldn't to enjoy a tryst between chores.

So long as they get their work done and are discreet about it, it is fine by me.

Rapid footsteps ring out in the corridor beyond before a breathless Wendle comes to a skittering stop beside the open door, grinning from ear to ear. "Alfred is on his way up!"

Evie emits a squeal and claps her hands together. "Oh, I'm so excited!"

"Quickly, Wendle, Evie, help me gather these spares!"

Both of them are laughing wildly as they leap to assist, and, arms laden, they exit the door, closing it as they go.

I have donned a pretty silk gown this morning, but resting over the bottom of the bed is a scandalous barbarian hide dress.

He is on his way, and I don't have the luxury of time to debate this more. This has all been planned meticulously. The goods arrived two days ago. I had to hide them, waiting for an opportunity for him to be away long enough for me to implement my plan.

Now it is upon me, I am assaulted by nerves. He loves my gowns, but...

There is no reason why there should not be variety in one's life, is there?

I tug the little bows on my day gown undone. It slips off my shoulders to pool at my feet. Next come stockings and underthings. Gathering the lot in my arms, I take them to my dressing room and toss them in, then resolutely shut the door.

My heart is thumping out of my chest as I take the dress from the end of the bed, and hold the strange and soft material in my hands. It is a fawn brown color and feels foreign to me as I pull it over my head. There are leather laces at the front, and when I pull it closed, it pumps and squeezes my breasts together. Alfred is a little obsessed with my breasts, and I believe he will like this very much.

I am busy admiring myself in the mirror, turning this way and that, and not at all ready, when the door swings open and Alfred strides in.

The bed is the first thing he sees, as it is closer to the door.

I hold my breath as he steps into the room in a daze, the door swinging shut behind him with a thud. He stares at it for a long while before he blinks several times like it might disappear.

Finally he swallows.

I am frozen in place, but maybe I make a sound, for his head suddenly swings to the side where I am standing.

A mask comes down over his expression, and his nostrils flare.

It is all heat. And it is all for me.

I fight to keep the stupid grin off my face. I give into the need to preen before him and run my hands down my body to straighten out imaginary kinks in the skirt, which scandalously stops above my knees.

"Where did you get all this?" He makes a sweeping gesture with his arm to encompass both me and the bed.

"Your brother," I admit. "I believe he fleeced me." I shrug. "I believe I do not care."

He throws his head back and laughs, and how I love that sound. "Aye, I love that bastard well. Bet it put a smile on his face when you asked him for this."

My impatience gets the better of me. I pop out one hip and take a deep breath to lift my breasts in my best attempt at an alluring pose. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

"Like it? I fucking love it. It is going to be my greatest pleasure to peel you out of it."

I believe my plan has worked just fine.