The Viking King's Bride

The ship cuts through gray water for days before the castle rises out of the mist. Inside, the great hall smells of smoke and wet wool. Men and women in rough leather and cotton drink and shout around you, their faces weathered, their bodies broad. No one bows.

At midnight, a servant leads you to a heavy wooden door and leaves you there. The room inside is lit by one fire. A man stands with his back to you, wide-shouldered, still in his traveling clothes.