Some might recall the tales concerning the tribes of the inhospitable north. A land where the winters were deathly cold, and whose inhabitants worshipped their own wicked gods instead of the Holy Scriptures; in truth, they were nothing more than savages who needed to be civilized.
It was only natural then for me to protest when my father, the Emperor, said he arranged for me to marry the daughter of their ruler in order to forge an alliance. My objections were to no avail; Father was a stubborn man and had already decided on the matter. The prospect of having to live under the same roof as an axe-wielding brute wasn’t something I looked forward to, but perhaps this was my father’s way of reminding me that, as heir to the Empire, it was my duty to put the wellbeing of the realm before my own wishes. If nothing else, a northerner would make for an interesting wife; though I wasn’t prepared for how interesting it would be.
Today was the day my betrothed was to arrive at the palace—the first barbarian to ever set foot inside its stone walls. To say introductions didn't go like I expected was an understatement. It all began when I made my way to the guest room she was staying in and I heard a loud commotion coming from inside. When I opened the door, I saw a girl with red hair that fell freely onto her shoulders, a braid on the back and a scar across her cheek—It was Sigrun, my soon-to-be wife. A group of imperial handmaidens were trying to dress her for the ceremony, but she was having none of it.
"I am not wearing that ridiculous garment!" the barbarian yelled, her voice carrying a slight accent. "I'm a proud warrior and I will not be forced into a dress!"
"Please calm yourself, my lady. We are merely trying to make sure you look your best for the ceremony," a handmaiden pleaded. "How about some jewelry? A pair of emerald earrings would really make your eyes stand out."
"I refuse, I will not accept trinkets unless I’ve earned them rightfully as plunder!" Sigrun exclaimed whilst puffing her chest. "I'm the daughter of the High-chief, and I have a reputation to uphold!"
The handmaidens stepped away from Sigrun and bowed at me with a curtsy when I entered the room.
"Sigrun has travelled from afar and is in no mood for this," I said in a calm voice. "Please, leave her be and see to your other duties. I will make sure she is ready for the ceremony when the time comes."
The women nodded and left the room, leaving me alone with Sigrun for the first time.
"You imperials need to keep your servants on a shorter leash." Sigrun looked off to the side with her arms crossed.
"I apologise for their insistence," I replied, trying to make peace. "I'll make sure they won't bother you again."
Sigrun turned to me and said, "Aye, you do that." Her green eyes met mine like an arrow into its target—she had a confident gaze that held no trace of weakness. She studied me for a moment before speaking again. "So, you're the one I'm here to marry? You seem alright."
"That's me," I replied. "Prince ${name}, heir to the Empire."
"${name}," she repeated, rolling the name around on her tongue. "We shall speak more after the wedding. It's best if we're not seen together until then."
She opened the door and motioned for me to exit before closing it behind me. I stood there, thinking about what had just happened. Her bluntness was disarming, to say the least. Getting accustomed to her unladylike ways would take time, but I had to admit she piqued my interest. What Sigrun lacked in manners, she made up in spirit.
We didn't see each other again until the wedding itself. It was a lavish affair, with all the grandeur one would expect from the Imperial court. When Sigrun entered the grand ballroom, all eyes were on her. She was wearing the traditional garb of her people—a wolf’s pelt fastened by a brooch over a long tunic with an animal tooth necklace while tribal markings covered parts of her body. It was far from proper, but I couldn't deny there wasn't a certain appeal to it. The guests in attendance comprised both imperial nobles and tribal chieftains. Everyone knew this day would mark the start of an alliance between our peoples—a union that would cement the bonds between the Empire and the Northern Tribes for generations to come.
Later that night, after swearing our nuptial vows and officially being declared husband and wife, I finally got the chance to speak with Sigrun in private.
"My wife, what do you say we go for a walk?" I asked her.
"Sure, this party is too formal for my tastes anyways," Sigrun replied.
I led her into the palace gardens, where it was much more intimate than the crowded ballroom. We strolled along the gravel paths with our hands intertwined; despite being calloused from years of combat, hers was still gentle to the touch. The air was redolent with the scent of flowers and herbs; chirping crickets filled the silence between us. The moon gave out a faint glow, making it easy to see our surroundings. We passed by a fountain where two geese were frolicking in the water, their feathers shimmering in the moonlight. The atmosphere was tranquil, and I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.
"Do you like the gardens?" I asked Sigrun as we walked side by side.
Sigrun shrugged her shoulders and said "It's better than being cooped up all day, I guess." She then looked at me with an amused expression. "I assume this is the part where the husband tells his wife how beautiful she is?"
"That's usually how it goes," I chuckled. "But something tells me you don't need me to compliment you."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because your beauty shines through regardless of what I say or do." I answered with a smile.
Sigrun didn't respond right away, but continued to gaze at me until she finally blushed slightly and said, "My, what a romantic. I'll let you get away with that one because I'm starting to like you."