“He spoke simply, without boastfulness and his words rang all the harder for their simplicity. "I am Dragon Hakonson, Lord of Landsende, and I have indeed come to claim my bride."Scarcely had he uttered those words than Rycca began to laugh, at first softly, then helplessly. She doubled over, holding her waist, as the sheer, horrifying absurdity of it all overwhelmed her. She had risked her life to flee from the very man to whom she had given herself and who stood now before her, outraged because she had betrayed him with...himself.”

“What had she told the priest?Hawk had said their holy man could not perform the wedding unless he was sure the bride was willing. Had there ever been one less so?Her eyes were downcast, she would not meet his gaze no matter how fiercely he willed her to do so. But the priest was smiling. He nodded to Dragon even as he addressed Hawk."Ah,well,now that is taken care of. We will proceed as you wish, my lords.""Immediately then," Hawk said. He did a decent enough job of hiding his relief but Dragon wasn't fooled. Until that moment, not even the Lord of Essex had been sure the marriage would take place.Krysta appeared at Rycca's side. She spoke to her softly, distracting her as she guided her to a small room off the great hall. There the bride would wait while the guests, her scowling family, and one stern-faced groom assembled in the chapel.”

“13NOTESShe hesitated. For two years she had kept as far away from Mikael Blomkvist as she could. And yet he kept sticking to her life like gum on the sole of her shoe, either on the Net or in real life. On the Net it was O.K. There he was no more than electrons and words. In real life, standing on her doorstep, he was still fucking attractive. And he knew her secrets just as she knew all of his. She looked at him for a moment and realized that she now had no feelings for him. At least not those kinds of feelings. He had in fact been a good friend to her over the past year. She trusted him. Maybe. It was troubling that one of the few people she trusted was a man she spent so much time avoiding. Then she made up her mind. It was absurd to pretend that he did not exist. It no longer hurt her to see him. She opened the door wide and let him into her life again.”

“What is it?” Dragon asked.“There is a man, lord, just off a ship from Normandy. He’s in the tavern over there and he’s asking for the Lady Rycca.”“Is he? What manner of man?” “Tall, slender, actually he looks rather like her ladyship. He says she is his sister and he seeks word of her.”“Does Rycca have yet another brother?” Wolf asked. He was close to Dragon and had overheard the exchange. The news had him fingering the hilt of his sword.“Yes, she does, but I gather he’s an altogether different sort. Do you mind finishing up here?”“Not at all. Go ahead.”Scant minutes later, Dragon set a horn of ale in front of the visitor from Normandy. The young man looked up, startled. He was pale skinned, with eyes like honey and hair that held the promise of fire. Had Rycca been a man, she would have looked just like him.Happy, happy day that she was not.“What brings you to Hawkforte, friend?” Dragon asked as he took the seat opposite his new acquaintance. “I seek word of my sister, the Lady Rycca of Wolscroft. I have had troubling word of her in Normandy and wish to be assured of her safety.”Trouble involving Rycca? How astonishing. Dragon hid a grin and said, “You would be called—”“Thurlow. And you are—?”This time, Dragon’s smile would not be denied. “Ah, well, as to that, therein hangs a tale.”

“Yet there were times when he did love her with all the kindness she demanded, and how was she to know what were those times? Alone she raged against his cheerfulness and put herself at the mercy of her own love and longed to be free of it because it made her less than he and dependent on him. But how could she be free of chains she had put upon herself? Her soul was all tempest. The dreams she had once had of her life were dead. She was in prison in the house. And yet who was her jailer except herself?”

“She became aware that she had thought the less of him because he had thought the more of her. She had worshipped this other man because he had assumed superiority and had told her that he was big enough to be her master. But now, -- now that it was all too late, -- the veil had fallen from her eyes. She could now see the difference between manliness and 'deportment.”