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 next morning she was woken early by the sound of men moving about and blinking the sleep from her eyes, she rose to look out of the window. It was still dark out, the moon and the stars visible, but she knew that Ivar wanted most of the warriors in the sewers and at the watchtowers well before the break of dawn, lest scouts of the Saxon army should see them move about and throw dirt in their carefully crafted plans. Yawning and stretching, ignoring the pain in her still sore back, she shrugged out of her sleeping dress and put on a dress she had made herself. It was from black cotton, hugging her in all the right places, with golden hems, stitches and embroidery. She had made a matching cloak, big enough to hide her entire body in the shadows, which she pulled on as well. Only then did she wake her siblings.
Antonio was up in an instant, chattering excitedly about his first battle even though he would watch it from a high tower with the older children, whereas Imeldina required more help. Alasia helped her sister clean up and dress, before carefully strapping her fragile legs together. Imeldina had come without a wheelchair, but there was no way Alasia would let her sister crawl around and so she smiled reassuringly at her, looking up as she heard a knock on her door.
Raising her eyebrows, she opened the door just enough to see who wanted her attention, but as soon as she saw Hvitserk's elevated smile, she threw open the door. "Hvitserk, good morning," she greeted him, sounding relieved. She looked over her shoulder, just in time to catch Imeldina staring at Hvitserk, a rosy tint coming to her cheeks, before quickly looking away again. "You've come just on time. Would you be so kind to carry Imeldina to the watchtower?"
"Ivar actually sent me to escort the three of you, before joining him in the sewers, so that wouldn't be a problem," Hvitserk replied, as good-natured as always. He moved past Alasia and to Imeldina, who was waiting patiently on the edge of her bed. Carefully, as if her sister was made from China, he wrapped his arms under her arms and knees, lifting her to his chest without as much as a huff. In the meanwhile, Alasia had put on a child-sized cloak on Antonio and grabbed a tight hold of his hand as she followed Hvitserk out of the room.
"You must be careful today, Hvitserk," Alasia said as they made their way to the tower. She was not as certain as Ivar of the Northern victory, though she had no reason to doubt their plans, and she was fretting over the faith of both Ragnarssons. All it took was an arrow flying the wrong way or a sword unseen for their lives to end and she felt a fleeting sense of irony at the realisation that she was actually worried for both of their wellbeings, even if she had wished the both of them, Ivar perhaps more so than Hvitserk, dead a million times. "No reckless actions and no risks."
