Viking Queen_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Savannah Rose

  I have no idea why he’s doing this. It’s as if he’s acting on instinct, like a wolf tentatively investigating something before - what? Going in for the kill?

  Still I don’t turn around. Does he desire me or is he angry with me? Does he feel the connection between us at our touch, in the same way that Johan and Haki did?

  He hasn’t spoken, but his hand is still on my back. I look down and realize that it is gradually moving to the front of my body, caressing the curve of my waist. He places it flat on my stomach and pulls me close. His mouth is still on my neck. He is not kissing me, not exactly. Just breathing me in, as if he’s waiting for something, as if he’s testing me.

  Then another cannon goes off.

  The horse shoots backward with a shrill whinny of terror, and I’m caught off balance. Moments ago, the length of Karsi’s body was pressing into mine, but now he has gone. In my efforts to catch my balance and calm the horse I don’t see him leave, but by the time I’ve found my senses I realize I am alone. My heart is pounding and I’m snatching my breath in great gasps. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, as if it’s straining through my clothes to seek out Karsi’s touch.

  But he’s gone, and the air in the stall is completely cold again.

  What just happened? I had planned on talking to the Warriors, getting to know them a little, letting them see my face in the hopes that somehow they would recognize me. I thought that their love for me would come to the surface naturally, like a swimmer rising for air.

  But seduction had never occurred to me. Not for a second. Much less the idea that one of them might try to seduce me.

  Perhaps I should have been a little angry at the idea. After all, it defied everything that was supposed to be true about the Warriors’ unconditional loyalty to the queen? How did that fit in with Karsi touching me the way he had, like an animal that was searching out his mate by scent?

  Yet I can't deny it. It was one of the most powerful sensations I’ve ever felt.

  And then there’s Eirik. My Eirik.

  I still think of Eirik as being my first love, in a way. Even as I’m beginning to understand and grow into the complexity of my relationship with my warriors, Eirik always comes first in my mind. It’s not necessarily that I love him the most, or that he’s the most important to me, just that I feel that Eirik is where all of this began. When Ysulte let me go on that ill-fated attempt to reason with Shar, it was Eirik I chose to go with me.

  I feel like there has to have been a reason for that, even if it isn’t a reason that I’m yet capable of fully understanding.

  So why is it that Eirik is the only one of my Warriors that I’ve still barely laid eyes on?

  I see them in the stables. When we pass each other in the hallways the line of our eye contact crosses - Haki, Johan, Karsi. Karsi takes the opportunity to touch me whenever he can. It’s never a straightforwardly seductive touch - a light tap on the hand, a caress of the waist, even just the feeling of his breath upon my ear. It goes no further than that. Maybe it’s Karsi’s sense of honour. Maybe it’s that his animal instinct is simply to explore the presence of my body, without any particular intention in mind. I don’t know.

  Whatever it is, I know that none of the three of them are in love with me. Not yet. They’re holding back, I guess out of a sense of duty. That’s okay. We have time. There are still six more days of feasting to go.

  But I’ll never get to them all until I’ve got to Eirik.

  While I’m going about my work, chatting mindlessly to Lara, grooming horses, making beds, preparing simple meals, I’m always wondering what it is that’s keeping Eirik away from me. Has my sister sensed that something is wrong and decided to keep him close? Is he simply her favorite of all the Warriors, the one that she makes sure is never allowed out of her sight?

  I catch glimpses of him at mealtimes. He’s always the one closest to her, on her right hand side. Sometimes she beckons him towards her, and he leans down, placing his arm on the back of her chair with a familiarity that makes my heart turn over with longing. With jealousy.

  She whispers in his ear. He nods. Sometimes he smiles too. Is it all for show? Does he behave in this intimate way just in case someone’s watching, or has his sense of loyalty to the idea of the queen convinced him that he really is in love with her?

  The sight of the two of them together makes my faith shake. The feeling that I get when Karsi touches me, or I hear Haki’s laugh, or speak freely with Johan - that sense of pure connection - feels threatened by the absence of Eirik.

  I know that I need to do something to get to him. I have no idea what.

  It’s Karsi’s turn to sleep in the cell tonight. Johan and Haki are on guard in the queen’s chamber. Eirik is inside with her.

  I pause at the end of the corridor that leads to the queen’s bedchamber, the bedchamber that I know should be mine, the bedchamber that I have the dimmest dream-memories of playing in when it belonged to our father. The royal bedchamber.

  Part of me wants to go to the cell where Karsi is sleeping. I know that I could creep in there and slip into the bed beside him and relish his touch. I’m certain that he would accept me, that he wouldn’t ask me to leave. Would we do anything together? I don’t know. Maybe we’d just lie there, skin to skin, breathing in the feeling of one another.

  But I know that it’s not the time for that. Not yet. I know that I need to get to Eirik.

  Would Johan and Haki perhaps wake him up and bring him out so that I can talk to him? I can’t think of a single pretense.

  Maybe I should just go to bed. Hope for more luck in the morning.

  I’m still standing at the end of the hall, dressed in nothing but my nightgown - a light cotton shift that turns translucent in the moonlight.

  Could I?

  I realize firmly that the idea of trying to sweet-talk my way into the bedchamber is a non-starter. Johan and Haki might be beginning to fall for me, but they’ve still got their iron-clad sense of duty intact. What possible reason could a handmaiden have for inviting herself into the queen’s bedchamber in the middle of the night.

  What would Ysulte do?

  No, that’s not the right question.

  What would I do, if I was brave enough?

  Involuntarily, I feel my hand move in a patting, calming gesture, as if I’m soothing one of the horses. I can feel the atmosphere itself pushing between my fingers, as if I’m applying a gentle pressure. There’s a soft sound at the other end of the hallway, like furs sliding down a stone wall and sinking gently to the floor.

  I have put Johan and Haki to sleep. The realization comes to me as a shock and I have to catch a deep breath to keep myself aligned. Magic doesn’t exist in the world I was banished to, at least not in a way that’s publicly accepted or recognized. Not in a way that would make people believe in it without a doubt.

  I look at my hands, holding them up in front of me, half wondering if I was mistaken. If this wasn’t my doing at all. But common sense makes me know that my capabilities stretches further than my imagination does. And now is no time to force my imagination to seek out possibilities.

  I pad lightly down the corridor. No need to run. I know for certain I won’t be disturbed. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. I also know with equal clarity that Shar is sleeping soundly, that as long as I maintain my concentration, she will not wake up.

  I know that if I try the door, it will open for me.

  But I don’t know if I can bear to. Can I really push open this great oak door, carved with the coat-of-arms of my ancestors, and take in the sight of my sister and Eirik lying in bed together? Can I possibly prepare myself for the idea that his muscled arm might be wrapped around her, protecting her as she sleeps? That perhaps they have fallen asleep forehead-to-forehead, in perfect intimacy?

  The idea makes my chest twist and seize.

  All I know for sure is that the only hope is to get my Warriors away from my sister. And I don’t believe, in my heart, that there is a
ny other way.

  With my pulse singing in my ears and my hand shaking, I lay my hand on the carved wooden door, and slowly push it open.

  I immediately turn my eyes toward the bed. A glutton for punishment, I guess. I need to see the two of them together so that I can at least begin to process it. Then I can work from there.

  But there’s only one shape under the rich silken covers of the bed. The narrow, insubstantial body of my sister.

  I blink, remembering Lara’s laughing suggestion that perhaps the Warriors just curled up at the bottom of the queens’ bed like dogs. I screw up my eyes in the half-light, straining to see, but there’s no Eirik anywhere near the huge four-poster bed.

  A breath disturbs me. A heavy, strong breath. A man’s breath. My eyes swivel to the fireplace, where the embers of the evening’s fire are still dying.

  There, slumped in an armchair, apparently just dozing, is my Eirik.

  He’s still wearing most of his armor. His hand is loosely curled around his sword as he sleeps, but I’m struck by the realization that he hasn’t even stripped down to his tunic, the way that my Warriors did for me when I was pretending to measure them.

  Hot joy springs into my throat. Does this mean that there’s truth to the rumors - that the Warriors just sleep in here symbolically?

  Acting on instinct, I cross the room to where Eirik is sleeping, and gently caress his cheek. He stirs, and half opens his eyes.

  “Sssh,” I say softly. “You’re dreaming.”

  I’m expecting his grip on his sword to tighten, but miraculously, he stays completely relaxed. I continue to touch his face very softly, as if I can transmit some sense of calm into his skin with my fingertips. His face is glorious in the half-light - skin deep bronze, hair gold, cheekbones accentuated by the deep shadows the fire casts. The sliver of his eyes that I can see, as he blinks sleepily, is the perfect shade of blue.

  “Hello, dróttning,” he says drowsily.

  I smile.

  In his dreams, or in the place between dreaming and waking, he still recognizes me.

  “Hello my love,” I reply softly. Now that he has recognized me - even if it’s only temporary - there is no need to pretend any more. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, his chest rising in the soft rhythm of sleep. “It’s been a terrible long time living this lie, dróttning.”

  “So you know it’s a lie?” I manage to keep my voice from rising in excitement. I can’t risk waking Shar.

  “In my heart, yes,” Eirik replies. “I know that truly there’s no other queen but you.”

  “Is that why you’re sleeping in the chair?” My words seem accusing, but I manage to keep some sense of teasing in my voice. After all, I feel so relieved to find him fully dressed and away from Shar that I can hardly be angry.

  He smiles.

  “That was the moment that I knew, dróttning,” he says.

  “Knew what?”

  “Knew in my heart that the woman lying on the bed is an imposter.” He breaths in deeply and settles more comfortably into the chair, as if the relief of telling the truth is lulling him back into sleep. “When that woman was first crowned as queen, each of us in turn tried to come to her bed, as we had always been told was our duty and our great honor. But we found we could not physically get anywhere near her. It was always as if there was an invisible wall between our bodies. She raged against it at first and tried to seduce us. She seemed to believe that if she only turned up her charms enough then we would be able to overcome whatever curse had been placed upon her, and we would be able to enter into the fullest union. But it was never possible. In all my years of serving this woman - whoever she is - I have never so much as laid a hand upon her. None of us have, nor have we wanted to.”

  “I see…” My mind is racing. Is there some deep magic that has protected my warriors from becoming too close to Shar - a false queen? Relief bubbles up inside me, and something like joy tickles the pit of my stomach.

  Until this moment, I had not realized how much the idea of my sister in bed with my warriors had been weighing on me, pulling me into a deep depression and sense of jealousy.

  On impulse, I sit down on Eirik’s lap, placing my head against his heart and wrapping my arms around his neck. In turn, he strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. It’s as if this is the way that it always should have been.

  “I can’t believe I’ve ever lived a life where you didn’t exist,” I whisper the words against his chest as though speaking them directly to his heard.

  His fingers brush against my chin and then my cheek, moving up to meet my lips. “I can’t believe you’ve walked this kingdom for all this time and I had no idea who you were. I felt it, sure. Felt the connection between us. But when you know what I know about the laws of the land you don’t try to investigate the connection, you chart it off as something bad. I should have known better.” His voice is strained and though he doesn’t apologize directly, I know that’s just what his words are meant to be. But what I also know is that I don’t want him to apologize for something that is so clearly not his fault.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Eirik. Loyalty is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Unless you’re loyal to the wrong person.”

  “You couldn’t have known.” This time, I speak the words against his lips, whispering them into him.

  “I should have,” he counters, his lips still against mine. The longer they stay there, the more my eyes fall closed, the sensation of him too heavy to bear.

  “I’m so sorry, dróttning,” he says into my hair. “I have never meant to betray you. I would rather lay down my own life than serve another.”

  “Shar betrayed me. You did nothing wrong.” At this, I press my lips fully against his. Press my tongue heavily against his. The kiss we engage in is slow and needy and as his tongue collides with mine the entire world blurs at the edges. There’s a fullness in my heart as we connect like this and I don’t hesitate to fill it even more with the taste of him.

  Eirik’s hands travel all over my body, touching places that have longed to be touched. Stroking the area between my thighs with consequence. He doesn’t shift my underwear to the side as he does so and the friction of the fabric seems to double the intensity of the sensation. I lean into his neck, my teeth clamping on to him in hopes of biting back the moans that wish to burst through me.

  Carefully, Eirik folds my legs around his waist and lifts us both from the chair, backing me against the wall in front of us. Here, when I look back, I can barely glimpse Shar on the bed, but that doesn’t mean that we’ve stolen privacy. We’re still just as easily caught as we were sitting in that chair. The risk of it should bother me, but there’s something sinister in my heart that wouldn’t mind my sister watching Eirik deliver the passion to me that she would never be able to receive from him. Watching him touch me in ways he never has and never will touch her.

  My back is pushed against the wall, my body held in place by Eirik’s body as his tongue travels the length of my neck and lower. So so so much lower until he’s licking away at the tenderness of my nipples, causing them to tighten with need. My fingers rake through his hair and I pull and tug, both fighting against the sensation and fighting for it. His fingers haven’t neglected me. They have slipped past the fabric that once separated my skin from his and now rub my clitoris with the diligence of a soldier. And even as I come all over his fingers, I know that this stolen moment, as enticing as it might be, will never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough as long as Shar still rules this kingdom.

  Satisfied with the heights he’s brought me to, Eirik sets me down on my own two feet and the world feels heavier again. His eyes are trained on me, his fingers moving higher and teasingly, so so so so teasingly, he slips them into his mouth, licking the slickness of my pleasure away.

  The blush that rises on my cheeks would be embarrassing if I weren’t so damn turned on. Leaning forward, Eirik runs his teeth over
my ear, nibbling softly. “It won’t be long before I get to taste you again,” he says, “and when I do, standing will be so much more difficult than it is now.” He says this in humor and pride and promise and the blush that was once contained on my cheeks heats me from head to toe.

  We sit back down in the chair. My head against his chest. His hand caressing my back.

  I have no idea how long we sit like this for. Eirik seems to have retreated back into an ever-deeper sleep, his arms wrapped firmly around me. I feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life, even in the knowledge that the sister who would kill me lies only a few feet away. I know that Eirik will protect me.

  But even as I’m lying on his chest, I know that this can’t last forever. What will happen when he wakes up? Surely his sense of duty will take over and he won’t be able to slip so easily into the intuition of dreams. Surely he won’t be able to simply look at me and accept me as his queen?

  But that doesn’t matter right now. I reach up and gently kiss his soft lips, my arms tightening around his neck. Even in his sleep, he kisses me back.

  “I love you,” I say into his mouth. He doesn’t say I love you back. Instead, still sleeping, he simply breathes the words, “My queen.”

  It nearly kills me to slip away from him when dawn starts to tug at the windows. I know that it’s time - that soon Shar will wake up, and the spell of this magic night will be broken. I know with equal certainty that I will come back to him, that he will recognize me in his dreams even if not in his waking mind. I know now that in his heart of hearts he has never abandoned me.

  I feel like I’m floating as I slip out of the door, down the hallway past the sleeping forms of Haki and Johan - whose faces I gently caress as I pass - and back through the castle. In my hands I’ve gathered all the food I can carry and I say a quick prayer that I pass no one in the hallways at this time. In the sewing quarters I gather a large enough piece of fabric and tie the food into it.

  The grounds are a bit easier to maneuver at this hour, but even then, I am careful not to be seen. I don’t know what the consequences are of stealing food from the queen to feed the people she’s allowed to starve. But what I do know is that Shar doesn’t work by logic and well, if she finds out who is stealing her food, I’ll have another shitstorm to clean up.