Town and not far from the zoo. Below the amphitheater, sparkling in the afternoon sun, lay the duck pond.
Elli parked the car above the amphitheater, to the side a little. A steep, tree-shadowed, grass-covered hill swept down to the pond. They got out and Elli took off at a run down the grassy slope. Maybe she’d leave him behind.
Yeah, right.
Elli kept running anyway, not looking back, almost tumbling head-over-heels once or twice, but somehow managing to keep her feet.
Hauk followed close behind. She could feel him there. Never once did he stumble. And she knew he wasn’t running full-out, that he effortlessly paced himself to keep a few yards back.
She reached the base of the slope, where the ground leveled out, drawing to a halt on the asphalt path that encircled the perimeter of the pond. Ducks and geese glided on the sun-sparkled surface and oaks and sweet gums grew at intervals along the bank, inviting wooden benches waiting beneath them.
Slightly breathless, she turned to Hauk. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
His sky-blue gaze darkened. “Beautiful.”
She knew what he meant and it wasn’t the duck pond. Her mouth was dry again. She swallowed.
He looked away from her. “What now?”
Good question. “Let’s, uh, walk.”
He started walking. Fast.
“Hey, wait up.”
He stopped where he was. She hurried and caught up.
They stood on the path, facing each other. He was looking at her again—gazing at her as if he would eat her up. And she liked it, to have him look at her that way.
He said, as if it hurt him to tell her, “You will have to go. I will have to make you go.”
“I know. But not till tomorrow. You won’t make me go…until tomorrow.”
“You enjoy this? Pushing the boundaries? Tempting the fates?”
Anger sizzled through her. “I’ll tell you what I don’t enjoy. Being kept in the dark. Knowing that if I break my word, you’ll make me keep it anyway.”
“You are jarl. High jarl. A princess.”
“Did you think I’d forgotten?”
“You are a princess and a princess keeps her word.”
The ducks drifted, elegant and easy, on the pond. The tree branches swayed in the slight breeze. A hundred yards away, on a swath of green across the street, a woman and a small blond child sat on a pink blanket beneath an oak, eating ice cream. The cars rolled past on the street, each one observing the speed limit. Everything seemed peaceful and perfect. Idyllic.
Except between Elli and Hauk. Between them, the air crackled. With hostility. And with heat.
She demanded with a low voice, “Do you know more of what drives my father than you’re telling me?”
“No.”
“If you did know more, would you tell me?”
“I can’t say. It would depend.”
“On?”
“What I knew. What I was ordered to keep to myself, what I thought wise to keep to myself.”
“So, I can’t really trust you, then. You could be lying to me now. You would lie to me now—if my father had ordered you to lie, if you thought you should lie.”
“You knew that from the first. And you can trust me. To take you where you need to go, to keep you safe.”
“Where I need to go?”
“Yes. By your own vow, I will take you where you need to go.”
She was recalling the things her mother had said. “Do you think it’s possible that my father hopes I might somehow claim the throne of Gullandria once he’s gone?”
“No.”
He had replied almost before she had the question out of her mouth. She couldn’t hold back a sharp little laugh. “Well, you had no trouble answering that one.”
“You think like an American.”
“You said that before.”
“And it remains as true now as it was then. There will be a kingmaking when your father is gone. And a prince will be chosen to succeed him. A prince. Not a princess. And certainly not a princess raised across the sea, a woman not even brought up in our ways.”
She looked at him sideways. “You could use a woman ruler. You might learn a few things. You could get out of the Dark Ages and start treating women as the equals they are.”
“A woman may never sit on the throne of Gullandria. But that doesn’t mean a woman doesn’t have rights—more rights, in some cases, than a man.”
“Rights like…?” She began walking along the path.
Hauk fell in step with her. “She can own property. She is equal, as an heir, when a parent dies.”
“Equal in terms of property rights. Well, good. That’s something. But you said more rights.”
“Yes. Our marriage laws give the woman the power. You’ll recall I told you that a man can’t divorce after his wife gives him children?”
“I remember.”
“I didn’t tell you that a woman can divorce her husband. A woman has the right to divorce at any time, simply because she believes the marriage is unworkable.”
“I assume there is some reasoning behind that.”
“It is thought that a woman is more responsible in matters of hearth and home, that she would be less likely to break the vows of marriage for frivolous reasons.”
Elli hated to say it—but she did, anyway. “I don’t agree with that. I think men and women should have the same rights. I don’t think one—either one—should have more power than the other.”
“You have plans to change our laws?”
“It was just an opinion.”
“There’s an old saying. An opinion means only as much as the power and intention of the one who owns it.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you implying my opinion doesn’t mean much?”
She could have sworn he almost smiled. “It’s only a saying. Take what you will from it.”
Ahead of them on the path, an old man tore at a loaf of bread and tossed the pieces
