Being in the wrong place at the wrong time was all it took for Adelasia's whole life to turn upside down. After being captured by the heathens raiding her city and taken all the way to the cold North, the youngest Ragnarsson takes an interest in her...
When the sun finally did rise, the head thrall ordered her to rise Ivar and help him to prepare for the day. Though Alasia had expected nothing less, she couldn't help but be filled with dread. She hadn't gotten any sleep, tossing and turning for the first half of the night, sitting in front of the fire and mending both Ivar and Hvitserk's tunics for the later part. She regretted not catching any sleep, but she realised that it was too late now and that she would just have to suffer through the day. And suffer she did.
"Help me up."
It was the first thing she heard when she entered Ivar's chambers. It was somewhat different from the way she was usually greeted in the morning. There were no smiles from her younger siblings, no glare from her older sister, no loving touch from her father on her head, only Ivar's brooding face. Alasia swallowed the lump in her throat and bit back the tears that threatened to spill as she rushed to her master's side.
As she lifted his up his upper body into a seating position, she had a feeling that Ivar was making himself unnecessarily heavy by relaxing his muscles and not helping her in any shape or form. When she saw the wolflike grin on his face, she knew for certain. Alasia choose to ignore it, and as her eyes shortly met his, she realised that the sclera of his eyes were oddly blue. For her sister, it was always a sign of danger.
"You should probably stay inside today," Alasia said quietly as she let go of the hot skin of his shoulders. Seeing the threatening expression gliding over his face, she realised her mistake. "My Prince," she adds quickly.
"You have a big mouth for a lady from the south, probably raised and groomed to be quiet and obeying," Ivar said, drawing in a loud breath. He smiled at her, though it wasn't a kind or friendly smile. It sent shivers down her spine. "If you want to last longer than a week you should learn to hold your tongue."
Alasia felt oddly berated. It wasn't often that she was told that she was bad at something, certainly not at being a slave. Worse than that, his words reminded her of her mother, who had been urging her to keep her talking to a minimum for years now. She ignored the sting in her heart and the anger in her head as she nodded. "It's just that your eyes are bluer than they were yesterday, prince Ivar."
"And that has never stopped me before," he said, grinning like a maniac. "Now, I haven't chosen you for your wise words or any talking for that matter, so shut up and fetch me my brace."
