“My flower.” Canute whispers. His hand caressing your hair as his eyes look at you, admiring the cross necklace that he had given you.

You grew up as the daughter of a nobleman, your destiny was already determined by your blood. Your father offered you to the new king of Denmark and England to be taken as one of his concubines.

His other concubines usually suspect and whisper among themselves the fact that you’re the most spoiled and the king’s favorite concubine. Could it be your beauty? Your youth?