Barbaric Spouse, Descry the Night's Lure-Chapter 60: Scene LX

She had paused to appreciate the appearance her dress had come to gain by her husband’s hand.

The tightness of the thread he had pulled before departing her private stances kept fit to her figure, and as her hand cautiously traced the edge he had intentionally cut to go over the start of her pants, she lifted her head to watch the man’s back as he departed Vinka’s tent with the brutish coldness he possessed. Invoking a rush within her to follow behind him so as to not be left on her own.

“We’re leaving.” — He told the already aware villager.

“Ai... Let us meet hereafter, Ewelina.”

“... Yes... let us meet soon, Vinka. I am to return these then... Is it alright to leave this skirt here?”

"We could make your pants with it. Want me to help?"

"Ah... No, I cannot–"

"It’s alright." — Vinka interrupted helping with her hand to pull the leather curtain.

"... Blessed thee Earth."

Following behind the man, Vinka walked along with the woman as she said her farewells. Sharing the gentility women could easily find in each other’s eyes as they recognised themselves as the same kind.

"Go, Veener Ewelina. Until hereafter."

Watching her stray away as she followed her spouse, Vinka peeked many times as she sat back at the spot Aslak had initially found her and returned the timid bow of Ewelina one last time before she finally decided to look forward and take speed to reach the spouse that also had taken few glances behind to make sure the wife was still following his long strides.

Placing her focus on the task she was executing when approached, Vinka brushed the furs blankly for a few moments until her instincts made the savage lift her chin to observe the heavy cloak waving to the Female Myrkzver’s pace along the unique fur she possessed.

So different in shape and unique in colour to that she had seen in fellow Sortnafeigr’s inhabitants. Small and frail, opposite to herself.

“... forsooth veneer female...” — Vinka exhaled, resuming her activity. Slightly entertained by the illusion of the unknown residing away where the outsider Archduchess had come from and the essence she contained in her discordant nature to the one in their culture.

More, the silhouettes of the incongruent couple followed a path between the tents of the barbaric tribe members. Getting lost soon after the last peek the villager had given to their steps.

In silence he had welcomed the woman to walk beside him, leading the way as he noticed she kept fiddling with the edges of her new attire as she also contemplated on the surroundings of the townlet across the stream she had grown interested to learn of.

The shy fiddling of her fingers feeling the fabric made him roll his eyes trying not to laugh at the sensation the image caused within him, which he found odd... yet excused.

As it had been told by the disagreeable warlock... the gem he was to give in tradition had already commenced to be thought of. Although Aslak was unresolved to honour such beliefs the people in the past had commenced.

However, to Ewelina’s influence, the wish to search for the gem and heed bothersome traditions had been born out of nowhere in the barbarous male.

It had been during their stroll that he had paid attention to the woman’s eyes. Where they fell, he kept trace. For if it fell on an adornment of the tribe’s women, he could find a lead on the gemstone that would suit her tastes. Nonetheless, little could be noticed from a shy sightseer whose awe was apparent in every corner her brown eyes landed.

‘... I might as well search in the peaks and caves myself...’ — He had conceived in a resigned mindset. Yet not resentful by the devoid-of-hints woman. On the contrary, falling interested in what gemstone he could gift to catch her glance much more intensely than those the women in the tribe wore.

Regardless, his contemplations would need another time to continue, as in their quiet stroll, the destination they were soon to arrive commenced to be visible in the distance.

"Woman..."

Reducing their pace speed further to find a halt in their move, Aslak blocked her path to tell harsh demands. Brutish in his nature and inconsiderate in tone.

“Stay shut until I tell you.”

“... Pardon?” — Stunned at his unmannered expression, Ewelina asked. Demanding explanation in the fury of her eyes.

“Troublesome men are where you want to go... Especially that one.”

Dissatisfied at the clear rejection in his wife’s expression, Aslak turned to look at the mentioned trouble, so she could follow and see the gruff savage further ahead among energetic children and men at the training ground the plains of brusque and celebration were.

“He’s been looking the gain of earth at my hand. Yngve... apparently wants to take my blood as the prize.”

“... husband’s blood?” — Her eyes cautiously strolled to peek at the dishevelled yet outrageously wild in appearance man.

Leaning in improper stance, munching as a mocking smirk observed the busy children, the buff man of big height and dirty body emanated an ominous sensation from afar. His hair of longer length than her Husband’s was dishevelled and chaotic as well as the growing beard, gifting the green eyes of the savage deeper wickedness.

“Yes.” — Aslak asserted. Blocking her sight once more for the attention she was granting was unnecessary. — “He has tried before. And I’ve let him be for now... Although he wants to, he knows he can’t.”

“... Is it... because Husband is a Myrkzver?”

“No.”

Ewelina’s awe at his confidence increased at the quick response that was devoid of doubt. And enhanced further, at the meet of a sneer in an entertained beast preparing to tease his partner with an undeniable truth.

“Because your husband is strong, Woman.”

The loom of the mischievous threat made her keep quiet to hold her ground without backing a step.

“Strength is everything for us savages of Sortnafeigr... But you... In this first visit to the tribe, I can tell you also want no blood to be spread. Am I mistaken?”

“... that is...” — Ewelina lowered her head, slightly ashamed to impose her wishes upon her husband, whose his and his people’s nature was raised in the violence that led to gruesome death between them.

“I haven’t killed him yet because of one of the returnees.” — He then informed her. — “So I also don’t want to dismember him today.”

“...dismem–...” — The young woman mumbled appalled at the ruthless intention behind a calm expression.

"That’s why. Stay shut until I allow it. Or his death will happen sooner.”

Colder than the water in the stream, the Archduke’s warning could only be answered by a frightful nod of the weak Ewelina. Who could discern that being obedient to these peculiar orders entailed a lengthy danger not only for the defying savage her spouse had pointed, but also for herself.