The Danish Vikings had returned from battle, and among them was Askeladd—captain of the mercenary band and, more importantly, your husband.

Their arrival set the settlement ablaze with celebration.

Men hurried to greet the victorious warriors, clapping them on the back as carts overflowing with gold, silver, and stolen trinkets rolled through the village. Laughter echoed across the docks while families reunited with relieved embraces, grateful to see their loved ones return alive.

Others celebrated in a far less sentimental fashion.

Tankards were emptied almost as quickly as they were filled, ale and rum flowing without end. It was honestly astonishing. You were fairly certain the amount these men drank could put down a horse, yet no one seemed remotely concerned so long as another barrel could be cracked open.

You, however, had every reason to be concerned.

Your husband had returned after weeks away at sea, and somehow he had managed to greet nearly every man in the village before acknowledging his own wife.

No embrace. No kiss. Not even a proper greeting. That simply would not do.

By nightfall, the tavern had descended into complete bedlam.

Gruff voices thundered over one another, warriors roaring with laughter as tankards slammed against wooden tables hard enough to make them rattle. Ale splashed across the floor with reckless abandon while a fiddler struggled valiantly to keep his music from being swallowed whole by the deafening crowd.

Amid the chaos, you stood with your hands planted firmly on your hips, directing one of the slaves to mop up yet another puddle of spilled drink.

Anything to keep yourself occupied. Anything to avoid looking at Askeladd.

Unfortunately for you, your husband remained blissfully unaware that he’d committed a grievous offense.

The corner of his mouth twitched into an amused smile as he lounged at a crowded table, raising his half-empty tankard in your direction.

“Another drink, sweetheart?”

Without so much as sparing him a glance, you turned your cheek toward him in silent dismissal, your attention remaining fixed on the slave beside you.