Chapter 4 : Voyage

Erik’s POV

I lost all hope of running after I stepped foot on our warship. Not that we were currently at war, but it was one of the few vessels in the fleet that offered cabins and could comfortably support my entire family and our plethora of servants.

Even more so as we drifted further and further to sea, getting closer and closer to my doom.

“What is it, Erik?” the second-youngest, Ulf, sneered. “Getting cold feet?”

Bjorn snickered, snapping off a piece of dried mackerel to chew on. “I told you it was going to be your problem.” Loudly chewing, he continued, “But I suppose it was a good idea you weren’t there when they discussed it. We’d probably still be at war if you told King Varric you wanted to kill his daughter.”

I paid him no mind, irritation simmering under my skin. Not as boiling as it was when my father tracked me down after my first escape attempt. And Anders found me after my second and third attempts.

There was no escape.

But at least my parents weren’t warding over me right now. Instead, we only heard snippets of their argument and—I’m going to assume—the sound of my mother knocking my father onto his back. Their arguments usually ended with broken furniture and my father nursing a sprained arm, staring at my mother with unkempt pride.

That was how they settled arguments. Brawling. The victor made the final decision. It’s worked for them so far and they still seem happy.

I found myself imagining the Aldermor princess. Frail and dainty. Soft-spoken. I groaned to myself, wanting nothing more than a woman who could fire back at me. Throw me on my back. Curse me to the deepest pit of the afterlife only to still crawl into bed with me when the fire was spent.

I wanted a woman who I’d rather fight with than against. A warrior at my back because she would be even more frightening as an opponent.

There was no way I’d ever get that with an Alder Elf. A princess at that. Babied by her father. A girl that had likely never lifted a finger in her life. Waited on hand and foot. Pathetic. Weak. Dull. Those were all the words building on themselves in my head, causing me to get increasingly sullen as the voyage continued.

I stared out at the lapping waves, the blanket of clouds starting to break with the southern wind. Even the weather looked boring. “How deep is the ocean?”

Anders was also ignoring our brothers, nose buried in a book. But he answered, “Approximately four thousand meters. Why?”

“Just contemplating my death,” I retorted, wondering if the Goddess Hel would take me under her wing. The afterlife had to be more entertaining than the life ahead.

“Stop being so dramatic. You act like you’re getting married to a draugr,” Anders smarted off. Though the idea of a reanimated corpse also seemed more interesting than a princess named Poppy.

She sounded like sunshine, while I wanted a storm.

“Fuck off,” I bit back, clenching my jaw so hard it ached.

All three of them laughed at me, continuing to twist the knife with no care for how I felt about it. Dickheads. All of them.

“Hey, a beautiful girl promised to you can’t be so bad,” Anders added. “And she’s a scholar? Come on. Intelligent and beautiful are qualities you rarely see together.”

I scoffed. “There are beautiful girls in Myrkr. And they aren’t boring.”

Anders lowered his book, content to be on this ship with me, going someplace new. The second-eldest has always had a wanderlust that I never understood. “I can’t wait to see what Aldermor looks like. We don’t see much sun in Myrkr. It’ll be interesting to see what fauna grows in that climate. Perhaps we could even ditch our coats.”

Ulf shoved Anders off the bench he was sitting on, saying, “Way to make it dull, Anders.” He stepped on the bench, thrusting his horned mug out to the sky as he declared, “I can’t wait for the girls.”

I rolled my eyes. “Have fantasies about Forestfolk?” My voice was mocking. I couldn’t help it. I resented their eagerness to march me to my doom.

Ulf took a thick gulp of his mead and chuckled. “Not particularly. It’s just hard to find an unmarried Myrkr woman that Magnus hasn’t slept with. I don’t feel like bringing a girl home, introducing her to our parents just to find out she’s already met our parents when Mags kicked her out.”

It was a serious statement, but that didn’t happen to Ulf. It happened to Anders.

Anders and Bjorn grumbled their agreement. Mags was an honorary Myrkrson brother, but damn it, he got around. We liked to joke that a quarter of the Myrkr population were direct descendants of him. Which was impossible, but fun to poke at.

“Better keep him on a tight leash or even Aldermor won’t be safe. Magnus could start wars with his appetite,” Anders joked under his breath, shoving Ulf out of the way so he could sit back down. But Ulf wouldn’t budge, he just stuck his tongue out at him.

A quiet laugh left my lips. Magnus was the type of man to be thrown out of a window by an unsuspecting husband. We were intolerant to cheaters in Myrkr, but Alder Elves lived by a different code than we did.

If the opportunity was open, Magnus would take it.

Ulf refused to move from the bench and Anders huffed, “Move or I’m going to sit on you.”

“Keep your fat ass off me!” Ulf argued and they went back and forth.

Bjorn and I looked at each other while the two middle children were moments from throwing fists over a bench seat when two other benches were readily available. I swear Ulf and Anders were always fighting.

“Fat ass! I’m not the one who got mom’s hips!” Anders shouted, wrapping his forearm around Ulf’s head as they crashed onto the wooden deck.

“You take that back!” Ulf howled like his namesake, squirming, but Anders was bigger, taking after our father’s brawn.

I laughed under my breath. “Fucking idiots.”

Bjorn and I were content watching Anders and Ulf wrestle it out, but it appears our resident riddari wasn’t.

“Oh my gods, stop fighting,” Magnus muttered, climbing up the steps from the lower deck. He had dark circles under his eyes, rubbing them fiercely as he dragged Anders off Ulf. “Cut it out! You can’t act like this in Aldermor!”

Ulf growled, breaking out of Magnus’s hold to storm to the lower deck. And Anders charged off in the opposite direction to the rowers.

“Were neither of you going to do anything?” Magnus asked, looking between me and Bjorn.

“No,” Bjorn answered.

I shrugged. “They’d figure it out.”

“It’s a miracle they made it to adulthood,” Magnus muttered. As our riddari, he serves as our bodyguard when we were away from Myrkr. From assassins as well as each other. He was like our brother on Myrkr, but now he was on watch. Like a switch went off.

But now that my source of entertainment was gone, I looked back out to the waves, vaguely hearing Bjorn and Magnus talk about something unimportant. Maybe training.

But I knew he also came to the upper deck for me, not just to split up one of Ulf and Anders’s frequent fights.

“Hey, Erik, why don’t you train me?” Bjorn asked. “Could be a nice way to get your mind off of it.”

With an incoherent grumble under my breath, I ignored him. While I was the best fighter out of all my brothers, I didn’t give two shits about training.

“He’s too good for it,” Magnus chuckled. “He doesn’t have a teaching bone in his body.”

I glanced back over my shoulder. “Or a patient one.”

“It’s true. He’d rather knock you down than show you how to deflect a hit,” Magnus added and he was absolutely right. I didn’t even train with Magnus. He told me I was too callous to train with. So instead, we’d just hunt monsters together. At least I could kill a monster.

I couldn’t kill my brother.

“We’ll train in the morning. Daybreak. Before breakfast.”

Bjorn made a noise of annoyed agreement.

Magnus turned his gaze to me, tilting his head away in a gesture that said, “Come on, let’s talk”.

I didn’t feel like talking, but Magnus shared my lust for life. He didn’t dream of marriage and fatherhood as my brothers did. To them, that was the ultimate goal. To me, I just wanted to enjoy myself before I was shackled to a commitment.

I followed him down to the lower deck, where Magnus poured me a horned mug full of mead. And there was no shortage for this trip. I accepted it, taking a healthy gulp of the wine.

Magnus sat down at the lounge, kicking his feet up on the table. “Talk.”

I swallowed, clearing my throat and giving a gruff reply, “Talk about what?”

“You know what. You’re pissed off because you have to settle down earlier than you thought. What’s the big deal?” he asked, shirt splayed open. Dressed in only his underlayers. No use for armor on a ship.

“I expected you of all people to get it,” I grumbled, finishing off my drink and pouring another before I joined him on the lounge. “I’m not eager to get rushed into a marriage. Give a little piece of myself up to please a woman.” I bit the inside of my cheek, a deep frown on my face. “I really wish you and all my brothers would just shut the fuck up about it.”

Magnus shrugged, unbothered by my obvious irritation.

And that only pissed me off more.

“I mean, I get it. But do you think I’m going to fuck around forever?” Magnus asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Ha. Very funny.” He rolled his dark eyes at me. An iridescent shade that fluctuation from purple to gold. A byproduct of his rite into a riddari. Right now, they were violet like they were when we were children. “No. Eventually, I’m going to find a woman that I can’t resist and I’m going to populate an entire village with our babies.”

“That sounds rather ambitious. Let my brothers have all the heirs. I’d rather remain childless.”

He rolled his eyes, flickering with gold, and took a drink. “All I’m saying is don’t put all these expectations on a woman you haven’t even met yet.”

“Good advice that I’m not going to take,” I retorted, standing up to go to my cabin and sleep the rest of the day away. So much for thinking my best friend would understand.

Magnus shouted after me, “You’re a stubborn fucker, you know that?”

I opened the door to my cabin, throwing him the middle finger before I slammed the door behind me.

What does he know?

Fuck him.

Fuck my brothers.

Fuck my parents.

Fuck the entire Kingdom of Aldermor.

I paced in circles around my bed, lost in the inner turmoil of my thoughts. Frustrated because I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be married to someone weak. I didn’t want to be taken away from my home and thrust into a new role of power.

So what if Alder Elves were dying in a war? I didn’t care. They weren’t my people. Weren’t my problem. If we were winning, why show mercy at all?

But no matter how hard I tried to call it off and argue my case, my parents didn’t hear me.

Slowly, I stopped pacing, sliding down to the floor with my face in my hands. I felt utterly helpless, but if I was going to be trapped, then Poppy was going to be trapped with me.

If I felt so horribly miserable, then I would give it back tenfold. It’s the Alder Elves’ fault that I’m in this situation and my dear princess represented all of them.

I’m not going to be charming.

I’m not going to be mirthful.

I’m going to make her hate me as much as I hated her.