Malia Martin by Her Norman Conqueror

loved when he would bring me here. I didn’t realize how very strange it made us to the people of the village.” A dark feeling threatened to crowd out the rare moment of peace she felt. She shook her head as if she could physically dislodge it.
    “They still think me strange, have always thought so. They would rather Aethregard be lord of Seabreeze than me, a woman, a woman of foreign blood.” Aleene pulled her hand from Cyne’s and sat up, wrapping her arms around her bent knees.
    From the corner of her eye, she saw Cyne follow her movements. She squinted out at the blue horizon and licked at the salt on her lips. She had never voiced her inner thoughts, her fears. Never. When she had the opportunity, with her father, she hadn’t had any fears. It felt strange to hear the words out loud, hear her voice saying them. She found a stick and stabbed the sand with it.
    “He was old, my father,” she said. “Nearly fifty when my mother had me. But I never thought him old, until he died. My mother said that his heart just quit working. The people blamed it on our ventures out into the icy waters.” She waved the stick toward the sea with a sigh. “They were happy he was dead.” She had cried then, for days she had cried, her seven-year-old mind not understanding the jubilant spirit of the people. They had never trusted the foreigner among them.
    “They rejoiced when my mother married Tosig, the Thane from the north. He was one of them.” She broke the stick in half and threw it away from her, staring at nothing, seeing nothing.
    Cyne stroked her hair, silently giving her understanding. And, yet, he did not understand. She knew that he did not, not really. He was a boy, a light-hearted, beautiful golden boy in a man’s body. She turned to him, forcing her memories away. Cyne leaned quickly over and kissed her cheek. She stiffened and turned toward the sea once more.
    Why? Why did this man’s body awaken her woman’s body as no other had?
    It frightened her and it invigorated her at the same time. She did not know how to handle such confusion. She looked at the man to whom she had just bared her soul. He grinned, stroking her hair again, then lowered himself back to the ground and closed his eyes. With a sigh, Aleene fingered her hair, spreading it about her shoulders so that it would dry.
    She was confused. But she was happy, too. A wonderous emotion, one she had not felt since her seventh year. She had spoken to another human of feelings deep within her heart, shown another her fear. She should be even more afraid.
    And yet, it was liberating. The fears didn’t seem as real, as debilitating. A breeze lifted goose pimples on her arms and she shivered. “We should go, Cyne.” She pushed herself up from the sand.
    She took one more look at the cove as they reached the cliff above it, already missing the bittersweet experience of the day. Cyne held her hand as they walked back to Seabreeze,his step light. She felt as her father must have felt, holding her by the hand as they returned home after a beautiful day of shirking duties and enjoying each other. The gatekeeper allowed their entrance, then tugged his forelock in salute. Aleene nodded, and took Cyne to wash before supper. Fear returned with a little trickle down her spine as she and Cyne readied for bed. She knew she must finish finally the deed of consummating her marriage. Her fingers shook as she loosened the tie of her tunic, but she breathed deeply and pushed the dark feelings away.
    Aleene looked over at her husband. He sensed her, surely, for his head came up from his silent task of taking off his shoes. It was dark, and the tiny, sputtering candle only made it harder to see, it seemed. She wanted him to touch her again.
    As if she had spoken the need aloud, Cyne stood and came to her, gathering her in his arms. “Cyne,” Aleene sighed into his chest. “Do you understand?” He said nothing, of course, only rocked her slightly. “No, you don’t, do