Three

1015 Words
ALARIC’S POV Just as Alaric was riding down the hill with his men, it only hit him when he saw the fortress. This was real. He was truly marrying a blasted British girl! How the bloody hell had he gotten into this mess? Why had someone else not been chosen? Why him? He swore under his breath in his mother tongue. Worse the air of the english made him want to faint. He wanted to run back to his home. Where he bloody belonged. Not this hell hole. He very much intended on getting the blasted wife and taking her back to Scotland today. It would be a nightmare if he slept in England. It would be a dishonour to his name. He had no idea what his king was thinking, but the goddamn truth was that once he had gotten this so-called wife of his, he was going to dump her in his keep and move back to his life. A whole him expected to sleep with only one woman. And not just any woman, but an English woman. What a bloody joke? He was going to pick her and she would be submissive to him, just as women were supposed to be and then all she would do is cook his meals, keep his keep neat, keep his bed warm whenever he wanted. And of course, he was going to go back to his many mistresses. “Let us get this over with.” He said in Gaelic and they went down to the small fortress. They rode in and they came down their horses. One of the guards came. “Where is the Earl?” He barked. “He is inside.” A man in his middle age said. “Who May you be?” Could he get any more disrespected? And here someone. An absolute nobody was asking him who he was? In his hometown no dared ask who he was. They were all supposed to know him. He gritted his teeth. “My name is Alaric of the west isles in Scotland.” He said. “Let me pass.” The men were obviously shaking in fear and they let him pass through. “Our Master is waiting for you.” The man said even though he looked very reluctant to be the one to lead Alaric and his men. Their horses were taken to the stables but very difficultly. The horses were not used to the men or the new environment. Alaric followed the men into the fortress. They were led into a hall and told to wait for the Earl to see them. “Tell him I’m in a goddamn hurry.” Alaric said meanly. “Look at this Place.” Alaric said looking around. “Such unnecessary work.” “Our home is much better.” Olaf said. Alaric did not want to admit it, but then he did admire the place. It was homely. He gruffed. No. There was no place that could be better than his own home. He kicked at the rug and sat down on the head chair at the head of the table and waited for the arrival. His men stood at attention. Then the door opened and a lady ran right past them. She was so engulfed in what she was doing stehst she took no notice of them. She bent to drop the tray on the table and when she looked up, she saw them and she became startled. To Alaric’s amazement, it was no one other than the stubborn girl with the wild horse. “Well well well.” He said. “Look what the cat dragged in.” “What are you doing here?” She asked him. “I was invited here.” He said as he placed his legs on the table and crossed them. “You’re in my father’s house.” She said. “Get your feet off the table. It’s disrespectful.” He didn’t smile. “Who said I wanted to respect anyone in the first place.” She heaved her chest in anger. She was obviously furious with him. She was annoying and irritating. He found her very unappealing for a woman. Women were supposed to be obedient, submissive and must never talk back at the men. But this one? She was was rude. She was answering him back and even had the guts to tell him what to do. He pulled a grim face. “If you were in my home, do you know why would happen to you?” He asked. “For speaking to me in such manner?” “Yes. You would hang me naked and flog me?” She asked. He blinked. The little b***h. She had most definitely caught him off guard. “I do not know whoever you think you are.” She said. “But this is England. The land of the free and not whatever kingdom you come from.” “We do as we like.” She said. “And it your women do not stand up for themselves, then our women do. I feel pity for the woman you are to marry. It would be pity to be matched with someone like you.” He gritted his teeth in anger. Then she turned to his men. “Would either of you like something to take?” She asked. “You will not address our master in such a disrespectful tone.” One of his men said. “Do you know who he is?” “Yes, I do.” She said. “He is a man.” And they just stood gaping at her. She looked at them. “It is obvious that none of you would have anything. Then s**t yourself.” And with that she gathered her things and left the room. Alaric was in shock. His men were whispering. She had just disgraced him in front of his very own men. In front of men that looked up to him. She had lowered him to being just, A MAN.
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