“You do know these chambers are off-limits to Grimnirs.”
Oh brother. I glanced at Echo to see if he was shrinking, but his eyes didn’t waver.
“I didn’t stop to think. She was in distress, and I felt she needed…”—me was implied, but not said—“help.”
“So, you knew my daughter was in distress and charged in here to investigate?”
“Yes, Golden One,” Echo said without hesitation.
“And how may I ask did you know this?”
“It’s hard to explain, sir.”
“I have time.”
Crap! My instinct to protect him kicked in. “We’ve been working together for almost a year, Father,” I explained. “I help the souls needing closure, and Echo reaps them. We make a good team.”
Baldur studied me. Then he smiled. “That’s good to know, Daughter.” He focused on Echo. “How did you know my daughter was in distress?”
“I just do. It’s a connection I still don’t understand myself. When she is sad or hurt, I always know.”
“Interesting. How did you get past the guards?”
Echo frowned. “I think they stepped out of my way.”
The corners of Baldur’s lips twitched as though he was trying not to smile. “Litr!”
“I’ll check on them, Golden One.” The Dwarf placed a stack of hot pancakes in front of Echo and hurried out of the room.
“Eat your food. You’re going to need your strength,” Baldur said and drained his drink.
Echo paled again.
Litr returned, walked to Baldur’s side, and whispered in his ear. I tried to hear what he was saying with little success. Litr took Baldur’s plate away and replenished his cup. Then he came to collect my plate.
“Are the guards okay?” I asked him, but Baldur answered instead.
“They’ll live,” he said, and I knew Echo had probably barreled through them.
“The goddess is going to need help keeping order around the hall, Echo. I’m pulling you off reaping duty and putting you in charge of Einmyria’s protection.”
Panic flashed in Echo’s eyes. I was in the process of sipping my drink, and some went the wrong way. I started to cough. Echo and Baldur both stood to pat my back.
“Protection?” Echo asked, going back to his seat. “Is she in danger?”
“Yes.” Baldur stayed standing. He wiped his lips and handed the napkin to Litr.
“Who would dare want to hurt her?” Echo asked.
“The suitors lining up outside the hall could easily kidnap her.” This time, Echo choked on his drink. I thumped his back while Baldur watched with a smug smile. My father had a cruel streak in him. “The only people here to keep vigil are the villagers and the clans from J?tunheim. The rest of them, erecting larger and fancier tents in our front yard, are here for Einmyria.” The paler Echo got, the broader Baldur’s grin grew. He even gripped Echo’s shoulder. “The word is out about her arrival, and more will be coming from all over the realms to ask for her hand. I expect many marriage proposals the second they catch a glimpse of her. But none of them is good enough for her. Not a single one until they prove themselves worthy.”
Baldur rubbed his hands and grinned gleefully as though looking forward to denying every request. I guess I should have been happy, except he was being mean to Echo in the process.
“So eat, shower, and report here to be her bodyguard since you’ve shown that a dozen of my well-trained guards cannot stop you when you believe she is in danger.” Baldur pressed a kiss on my temple. “Go see your mother when you are done, elskr mín. I believe she was hoping you’d join her in the Sorting Room again.”
Chapter 14. My Mother, My Clan
“Suitors?” Echo growled when we were alone.
“He knows about us,” I said.
“How in Hel’s Mist did they hear about you? If they think they can waltz in here and propose to you—”
I shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth. He glared at me. “You’re not listening to me. My parents know about us. Mom told me. My father invited the suitors.”
Echo frowned. “Why?”
“There’s going to be a tourney so the men can show me how manly they are. Anyone I favor will be challenged by the others and beaten to a pulp. Namely you. My father invited them here so you could prove to him, the hall, and all the realms that you are worthy of me. I tried telling my mother you’ve already done that, but she wouldn’t listen until she realized my father’s grand plan. She was livid.”
“Oh.” Echo grinned. “Good. I saw a few showing off their sword skills earlier, and I wasn’t impressed. I can take them all.”
“No, you can’t. It’s barbaric, and I will not be a part of it. Neither will you. I had a vision, and it doesn’t end well.”
“For them or for me?” He chuckled. I kicked him under the table. “It doesn’t matter what you saw, Cora-mia. Any cuts and bruises I acquire along the way, I’ll wear with pride. I’m going to enjoy knocking deities and princes on their asses.”
Muffled laughter came from Litr. When I looked at him, he wore a straight face. I liked the Dwarf, but this was not a laughing matter.
“You need to take this seriously, Echo. I’m going to talk to Eirik about it.” I got up, but he caught my wrist. “What?”
He tugged me closer. “This is my fight, not your brother’s.”
He was acting like it was fun and games while I kept seeing the vision of his bloodied face. If he thought I was going to let this go, he was out of his mind. No one was messing with him while I was around.
“Okay, Echo.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why are you agreeing with me?”
I leaned down and kissed him. “Because you are right. This is your battle. Later, warrior. I’ll be at Eirik’s.”
“Don’t try and solicit his help,” he warned.
“I won’t.”
“And don’t leave his quarters until I get there.”
“Okay.”
He continued to scowl. “Now I know you are up to something. You’re downright scary when you agree with me.”
“Apologize to the guards.”
Litr opened a portal to Eirik’s living room. Echo was still staring at me when the portal closed. I headed to the bedroom, but Eirik wasn’t there. Instead, I found Celestia’s father reading to her. He stopped reading and started to get up when he saw me.
“Don’t get up, Chief Deveraux,” I said, walking to the other side of the bed. “How is she doing?”
“The same. I’ve never understood magic, but what if magic can’t help her this time?”
“It will. We just need to find what works.”
“One of the kitchen maids gave me this,” Celestia’s aunt Genevieve said, entering the room with a tray containing a basket covered with a cloth, a pitcher of mead, and two glasses. The smell of fresh loaf filled the air. Since she used her shoulder to open the door, she didn’t see me until the door swung open, and she turned. “Your, uh, Your Highness. I didn’t know—”
“Don’t, please. My name is Cora. Einmyria actually. I have to get used to the name while here. I’m just a simple girl raised by two farmers.”
Genevieve chuckled. “Simple? I don’t think so, but I’m happy you are down-to-earth because I have no idea how to address you or your parents.” She placed the pitcher and the glasses on top of the coffee table by the sofa, poured the drink into a tumbler, and gave it to Celestia’s father. “It’s a mad house out there. I think Eirik is ready to go full dragon on them. He’s too worried about Celestia to care that they are here for her. I do love that boy. So protective.”
“He is a nice young man, your brother,” Chief Deveraux said. “At first I didn’t approve of her getting involved with him, but he’s proven himself. Even here, he understands her need to help people and encourages it. She’s only been here a few months, and she’s already touched so many people.”
I didn’t want to burst their bubble; so instead, I sat on the edge of the bed and took Celestia’s hand. The guilt still ate at me. I kept hoping to find her alone, so I could apologize for the part I’d played in her coma.
“Talk to her,” her aunt encouraged.
I glanced at her. Had she read my mind?