Page 64 of Viking Vengeance Cruise

“That good?”

“That inappropriate.”

“Honey, at my age, inappropriate is a food group.”

“Then consider this an all-you-can-eat buffet,” I tell her.

“I’d like it noted that I’m sitting right here,” Bess says.

“Jealousy is a terrible color on you,” Nettie tells her.

Magnus grins wider and shifts even closer to Nettie, who remains blissfully oblivious to the seven-foot ghost currently invading her personal space.

Somewhere in the afterlife, there’s a customer service department, and I have complaints. I’ve started a list. It’s alphabetized.

Sienna steps to the front of the room and claps her hands for attention. The chatter dies down as women find seats, mimosas in hand, their faces flushed with champagne and anticipation.

“Ladies!” Sienna’s voice projects better than I expected. “Welcome to our discussion on morally gray characters. Specifically, the Viking heroes we love despite their questionable everything.”

“Or because of it,” someone calls out, and the room erupts in laughter.

“Good point,” Sienna concedes, smiling. “So let’s start with the big question: why do we love these men? These warriors who pillage and conquer and have absolutely no concept of modern communication skills?”

“Those delicious thighs,” Nettie says immediately.

More laughter.

“Okay, yes, the physical appeal is undeniable,” Sienna says. “But what else?”

A woman in purple velvet raises her hand. “The redemption arc. They start out ruthless, but love changes them.”

“The protective instinct,” another adds. “They’d burn the world down for the heroine.”

The sentiment lands a little differently when somebody in this room may have burned Astrid’s world down two nights ago. I keep my smile pinned in place and my ears wide open.

“The emotional vulnerability underneath all that violence,” someone else contributes. “They’re damaged but capable of deep feeling.”

Magnus leans closer to Nettie. “They love us because we’re dangerous. Because we take what we want. Because we don’t apologize for our nature.”

I resist the urge to tell him that’s exactly the problem.

“What about the consent issues?” a woman near the back asks, and the room goes quiet.

Sienna nods seriously. “That’s a valid concern. A lot of Viking romance involves dubious consent at best, especially in older titles. How do we reconcile loving these stories with recognizing the problematic elements?”

“We acknowledge it,” Poppy says from her seat near the front. “We can enjoy the fantasy while understanding it would be horrifying in reality. Fiction lets us explore darker themes safely.”

She says it with the serene calm of a librarian. As if fantasies are things she files neatly and never once lets off the leash. I’m starting to wonder if that’s true.

“Context matters,” Freya adds from the windows, not turning around. “Historical accuracy versus romanticization. We’re not reading these books for a documentary on actual Viking culture.”

She’ll debate the room, but she won’t face it. Interesting.

“Plus,” Nettie chimes in, “the good ones make it clear the heroine has agency. She chooses the Viking. She wants the Viking. It’s not about being conquered. It’s about being claimed by someone you’ve already claimed for yourself.”

Bess looks at her. “That was unexpectedly profound.”

“I contain multitudes.”