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...
The days after the battle passed rather quickly and were filled with many great dinner banks and other festivities. Animals were sacrificed, something that after having seen it many times still gave her the chills, people danced and ail flowed freely. Only after a week did most of the feasts end and did the castle of York return to its usual business of trading, hunting and looting nearby towns. It was one of these days that Alasia walked the castle aimlessly, bored out of her mind even though two dresses were waiting to be made.
She entered the Great Hall, walking past Ivar's personal guard without as much as a second glance. Though a victory had been won, Ivar the Boneless was not one for rest and she had not seen him often the last couple of days, only appearing every now and then at dinner or breakfast. He was continuously surrounded by men of his war council, something that didn't necessarily bother Alasia, but which she didn't find amusing either. The more time she spent on her own or with her siblings, the more she realised how attached she'd gotten to the Viking. It was a scary thought.
"My Lady Adelasia," Ivar said suddenly, as his eyes fell upon her. A delighted smile came to his face and he motioned to the chair next to his, patting the seat.
A small smile came to her face as well, and it didn't escape her notice as Ivar pulled the chair closer to him before she actually sat down on it. Not wanting to get caught staring, she opted not to look at the man next to her at all and focused her gaze instead on the man in front of her. It was Bishop Heahmund, a man she had carefully avoided these last couple of days and had told her siblings to do the same, for every time the two of them were in the same room, he gave her dirty glances. This time as well, his dark eyes flickered to her with an obvious hint of disgust and mistrust, before he focused again on the game of chess he was playing with Ivar.
She looked at the board as well, quickly recognizing what Ivar was playing at with the way he had scattered his pawns across the board. Allowing her eyes to travel back to the bishop, she frowned at the silver cross hanging on his torso. He was not donned in the usual clothes bishops wore, behaving with neither the grace nor the kindness she was used to.
"You are from Naples, are you not, Adelasia La Santa?" the bishop asked in a soft voice after a while, putting heavy emphasis on the nickname she had earned as a young girl. He was speaking the archaic form of her tongue, which she recognized easily. His dark eyes flickered to her obviously uncomfortable frame, before moving one of his pawns across the board. "I have heard many things about you from your father. He was in my war council, a pity he died."
