Kári shrugged her shoulders, unapologetic of her response to his obvious air of over-the-top sense of self importance.

“I agree to your conditions with a condition of my own,” he said.

She looked at him with a curious frown. He continued.

“When we reach the capital city, you will tell me who you really are and not this fantasy story of being a paid companion to a princess. I find it difficult to believe that you could sit docilely in the shadows of anyone.”

She rolled her eyes before giving him a serious look.

“The winds of truth change constantly and what is true to some is fantasy for others. I am who I say I am and that is all that should matter to you, your highness.” She turned her head to the side as she examined his person from head to toe. “Beside once you reach the capital you’ll be too busy trying to woo the delicate heart of the princess to care a wallop about whom or what I am in this world.”

Aõalríkr shook his head at her stubbornness to keep up this silly fabrication when he knew she was a fraud. But right now wasn’t the time to delve into her hidden identity. He did insist however on having the last word.

“That I whole heartedly disagree with, but I do agree to your condition none the less. Do we shake on it then?”

Taking off his left glove he outstretched his gloveless hand to her. Kári took off her own right glove and placed her hand cautiously within his. The blood in his hand was very warm compared to that of her hand, which always ran a little cooler than others. A trait from her father was a lower body temperature which allowed her to easily withstand the arctic weather of the land of the gods.