Sigrid smiled graciously at her dinner guests as the servants cleared dishes of cabbage, chicken, and goat, and brought out several whole roasted pigs, beef, and trays of pears, chestnuts, and almonds. None of it looked remotely appetizing to her. Hatred flowed through her veins.

"M'lady," said Wsewolod. He sat to Sigrid's right and stroked her hand as he spoke. His oily voice matched his hair and dripped with thinly-veiled insincerity, "if you were my wife I would lavish thee with diamonds and jewels beyond your wildest dreams."

Sigrid didn't dignify the nincompoop with a response but stared blankly forward gritting her teeth.

"Oh, shut it Sir 'Lord-of-Everything-and-Everybody'," said Herald. He sat to Sigrid's left, his tight jacket nearly bursting, while he gnawed on a large bone. Grease covered Herald's hands and face. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and burped loudly. "Darling you will marry me and you know it." A servant appeared at his side offering him a shallow basin and linen towel, but Herald dismissed him with a wave.

Sigrid wrinkled her nose and then forced her face to relax. "And what of Asta?" she asked in the most demure voice she could manage, which wasn't very demure but rather icy.

"We split, she's so out with yesterday's trash. Didn't you get the news?"

Sigrid didn't bother to reply to Herald either but instead nodded to her guards at the end of the hall. They slowly advanced to where the three sat at the end of the table. The dinner guests stopped mid-chew and stared at the muscular warriors with trepidation, but Wsewolod and Herald didn't notice. They could not take their greedy eyes of Sigrid.

* * *

Peter placed his open book face down on his stomach and watched the young woman enter his hospital room.

"Hello, Mr. Nowak. Are you up for a visit?" asked Liz. She adjusted her volunteer's badge and pulled her long blonde hair out of its way.

"From you, Liz, of course," he smiled. Liz glanced at the nurse bustling around the large room filled with high-tech medical equipment. The nurse gave her a friendly nod of assent.  

"What are you reading today?" she asked. She tried to look at his kind, lined face and not at the multiple tubes taped to his neck or the wires that connected to stickers on his chest. It was hard to focus on the conversation and not be distracted by the low beeps from the monitors and numerous IV poles. Peter looked more tired today.

"Oh, the most wonderful history book about a tenth-century Polish princess who went on to become the Queen of Denmark and then of Sweden."

"Tell me about her," said Liz pulling up a chair.

A grin spread across Peter's face. "She is...what is the English word I'm looking for?" Peter made a muscle with his arm and gritted his teeth.

"Strong?" asked Liz.

"No."

"Tough?" she asked.

"Kind of, but that is not quite the word I'm looking for. This book is good though. This history," he held up the book and waved it, "is real. Not like this Internet."

"Are you feeling that Peter?" asked the nurse looking anxiously at the monitor.

"No, I feel great." Peter smiled broadly at Liz's concerned face. "I'm not going to die today." 

"I wouldn't touch the patient," said the nurse to Liz, "his internal defibrillator might go off." They both stared at the monitor which read 'VT:145' next to a tracing of wide heartbeats.

"I can come back tomorrow," said Liz.

"No! I feel fine," said Peter looking annoyed. The monitor jumped back into normal sinus rhythm. 

The nurse made a call and then quickly hung a bag of medicine on Peter's IV pole.

Peter sighed and he looked away for a moment. Liz waited patiently. Then he smiled and turned back to Liz, "I'm going to hang in there until I get a new heart. A good one from someone who is strong and healthy."

"Like Sigrid?" asked Liz.

"No," Peter chuckled, "I love her character, don't get me wrong, but she could be downright evil too. She had to be hard to survive in her time." His eyebrows went up and he displayed a devilish grin. "What the heart the give me is from a murderer?"

Liz seemed disturbed. "I don't think they would give you the heart of a murderer."

"I hope not," said Peter chuckling. "I think I'll know once it is in me what kind of a person they were." He looked sad again. "I'm too old to get a really good heart Liz. All this probably isn't worth it." Strong emotion infused his features, and he stared out the window. "It might be time for me to join my first wife and my son." Liz put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze.

Peter looked down and meaninglessly readjusted his blankets and the tubes and lines that ran across it. Then, he sucked in a big breath and smiled again at Liz. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes the beautiful Polish princess."

"Would you like me to read some of it out loud?" asked Liz.

"That would be lovely," said Peter.   

* * *

Wsewolod looked up from his calculation of the worth of the gold and silver rings on Sigrid's fingers.

"What is happening?" he asked. Hearing the surprise in Wsewolod's voice, Herald looked up abruptly too from the ribs he had just grabbed off a silver platter and sunk his teeth into.

"Some entertainment for the guests!" said Herald looking at the chains the guards carried in their hands. "A woman after my own dreams. Who in your kingdom needs to be taught a lesson tonight?" He squealed with delight.

The guards neared the end of the table. Their armor clanked loudly. They reached Sigrid and stood at either side of her.

"Describe to me Wseworld," she smiled to her right, "Herald," she smiled to her left, "your notions of how I could be a good wife to you."

Once Wsewold and Herald finished expounding upon the qualities of a good wife, one who was subservient, obedient, submissive, and whose weak female minds thanked God for the leadership their husbands provided, she nodded, they thought in agreement, but in fact to signal the guards to chain each to a stake behind her. Wsewold and Herald were almost too surprised to protest. 

The guests stared in horror as the guards lit fires. Sigrid sipped her hippocras slowly savoring the sweet warm cinnamon-infused wine while her suitors burned to death behind her. Suddenly she was ravenous and the food appealed to her once more. No one but the queen sampled the fine array of aged cheese and drag'ee as the embers died down concluding the feast. When she finished she stood and addressed her guests. "Well, would anyone else care to ask for my hand?" she asked. When no one answered she smiled. "Then I shall retire," she said and walked gracefully down the length of the banquet hall, robes flowing behind her.

* * *

"Whoa," said Peter, "I just felt that woosh I felt the last time it went off."

The nurse rushed to his side and made a call from her phone. More nurses and several doctors hurried in. They started taking his blood pressure, listening to his chest, and drawing up syringes. "He is in V-tach at 185!" someone shouted.

"I'll come back tomorrow Peter," said Liz and she backed quickly out of the room. Peter nodded cheeks flushed. She stood in the hall looking into Peter's room through the glass window. He slumped over unconscious and a nurse immediately began performing CPR. 

"Code Blue, room 2455," came a voice overhead. A barrage of people ran down the hall to Peter's room. One pushed a big red cart. More and more doctors and nurses came. The room was packed. Adrenaline coursed through Liz and she knew she should leave but she couldn't. A tear rolled down her cheek. They placed paddles directly on his chest.

"All clear."

Slowly, Liz turned and forced her legs to walk away.

* * *

Peter collapsed at Sigrid's feet. The queen stopped and looked at the old man in disgust. 

"And who, pray thee, are you?" Sigrid's voice was stern but she looked around the room and above her slightly bewildered.

Peter gasped as if reclaiming his breath after falling from a height. "I..." he was unable to speak.

"I'm not marrying you, old fool, wherever you came from. Guards!" she called. "Chain him up."

The guards appeared beside Sigrid in a heartbeat. They pulled at his arms to tie them down. Still unable to catch his breath, Peter struggled against the guards, but his effort was feeble at best.

"Please," said Peter in a breathy voice that was barely audible. "Please kill me quickly. I'm a good man. Just make it quick, I beg you."

Sigrid loomed above him seething. "I'll decide who lives and who dies here," she said in a commanding voice. He could smell her robes. Lye, lavender, and sunshine. Heat radiated off her being. Danger flashed in her dark blue eyes. He had never loved anyone more.

Sigrid stood over Peter and looking down at the pathetic fool. He wore only loose pants and his hair was gray. The rolls of fat around his middle would crackle when they burned like those of Wsewold and Herald. Grabbing Peter's hair, she yanked his head back and pulled a dagger out from under her robes.  She held its tip tightly against Peter's neck.

"You thought like the rest of them that if you came and expounded on my beauty, I might be fool enough to marry you and hand you my freedom?"

"No," said Peter, wheezing, "I'm not enchanted by your beauty."

"What!" said Sigrid, with annoyance, "You don't think I'm beautiful?" She pressed the dagger deeper into his neck. A drop of dark red blood dripped down and came to rest on his collar bone. He must be blind, she thought. 

"Of course, you are the most gorgeous woman who has ever threatened to kill me..." Peter glanced up and took in her face, "...or even talk to me," he quickly cast his eyes back down to the ground, "but it pales in comparison to the beauty of your fierce strength and determination."

His words caught Sigrid off guard. She lowered the knife. 

Peter looked up at Sigrid again and they locked eyes for a moment. To her irritation, the hint of tears in his pale blue eyes stirred something in her. She lifted her chin and looked away. "Take him to the dungeons," said Sigrid to her guards in a low voice. Then she turned and was gone.

* * *

Peter lay on his back, chin cranked to the ceiling, bright lights blinding him. He gagged on a thick tube snaking down his throat choking him. He bucked and gripped the tube to pull it out, but his hands were wrenched away.

"He's back, put him down," came a loud male voice.

"Propofol 50mg going in now..." said a female voice that faded into the distance.

* * *

Peter opened his eye but could not see. His arms were tied down to the edges of the table and his back ached.  

He heard a padlock click, and a heavy door creak open. The bright light of a torch suddenly blinded him. He only caught a glimpse of the cavernous stone room around him. Above him stood Sigrid. Her blonde hair caught the light of a torch and shimmered like gold. Peter felt too mesmerized to be afraid.

"Are you real?" asked Peter.

Sigrid looked irritated and placed the torch in a holder against the wall.

"You are unusual," she said looking down at him.

"I love you," said Peter, the words catching in his throat. He sucked in a deep breath to regain control. "Thank you for not burning me with the others." 

Ugh, he loves me. "Not that unusual," said Sigrid. Having had enough of suitors professing their love, she let out a long exhale and stared at the wall behind Peter. 

"You are strong and rich. You don't need a husband, a king," said Peter.

Sigrid startled and looked back down at the old man. A minute of silence ticked by marked only by the beating of Sigrid's heart. Peter realized that he couldn't feel or hear his own. 

"You are smarter than you look, but you still need to go back to where you came from," said Sigrid her voice cold, she picked the torch back up again.

Peter searched his muddled brain desperately for something to say, anything to keep her from leaving again. "I can read to you," he said. He watched her face change from stony to interested. "I can teach you to read too," he added quickly.

She eyed him suspiciously but put the torch back against the wall. "You're a priest?" she asked moving closer. 

"No, just a man." 

She started at him in disbelief. Not even her father was willing to teach her to read, despite his conversion to Christianity and pledge to further its growth. 

"And what in return do you want from me?" asked Sigrid. 

"Nothing, just please don't send me back." Peter looked pleadingly at Sigrid, searching her eyes for mercy. "I'll die."

"Why?" asked Sigrid suspiciously. "Have you committed a crime?" She was a good judge of criminals, he hardly seemed the type. "I'll kill you if you are a thief."

"No," said Peter. "I have no heart." The words slipped out before he recognized them as the truth, his chest hollow, empty. Shocked, he lay still afraid to move or even breathe. Coldness consumed him.

Sigrid placed her hand over his chest. Her eyes widened. "You don't belong here," she said. Her voice was a whisper. 

"Where I come from women are taught to read. And they don't have to marry, and they can lead if they choose," said Peter in a whisper. He felt his vision start to fade.

Sigrid felt gooseflesh break out on her arms and across her chest. "This world isn't worth living in," she said. Her voice was soft and sad. "But yours is."

Sigrid's hand shook as it slid beneath the robes covering her breasts and emerged covered in blood holding a beating heart. She slammed it down with a scream into Peter's chest. Warmth and euphoria flooded his body. Air filled his lungs.

Sigrid turned paled and stumbled.

"No, you can't die for me," said Peter. He tried to sit up but remained chained to the table. Sigrid looked down at him but didn't speak. Panic consumed Peter. "I'm not worth it."

Sigrid collapsed on top of Peter, her bosom pressed against his chest. "I decide who lives and dies here," she said in a voice barely audible. Her soft lips just faintly brushed Peter's. "Leave!" she said with a faint hiss.

* * *

"Hello," said Peter. His lips were dry and he picked up a cup of ice water with staw and took a sip. 

Liz stepped nervously into the room carrying a small vase with three daisies in it. 

"Hi Mr. Nowak," she trembled a bit. "I'm glad to see you." 

"You thought you would never see me again," said Peter. He coughed holding tight to a pillow over his chest and tried to hide the pain it caused. 

Liz nodded. "Do you feel alright?" she asked.

"I feel awful," said Peter and pointed to the bandage that covered his sternum. Bruises covered his arms. His hands trembled a bit. "But they said I'm going to live." He offered an attempt at a light-hearted smile. They stood looking at each other in silence.

"Can you tell?" asked Liz breaking the stillness in the room that contained no beeping monitors. 

"Tell what?" asked Peter.

"What kind of a...you know...the person whose..." said Liz in a low voice.

"Oh, you mean did they give me the heart of a murderer or not?" said Peter with a laugh that caused him to grimace. He looked thoughtful for a few seconds before continuing. "I don't know what kind of a person she was," he finally said. "I think she was strong, but I guess I'll never know." 

Liz put her hand on Peter's.

"And if she murdered a few people, they probably deserved it." This time he smiled but managed not to laugh. 

"I brought a new book to read in case you need a break from the evil queen, said Liz."

"No," said Peter. "I'd quite like to finish this one. She just did what she had to do to fight for what she believed in."

"She doesn't sound so awful then."

"I'm as enchanted with her as ever," said Peter with a smile.  

__________

Author's Notes:

From my limited online research, it appears that there is a lot of controversy surrounding the legend and historical figure(s) that are known in Norse sagas as Sigrid the Haughty who, it has been claimed, was married to Eric the Victorious of Sweden, and then Sweyn the Forkbeard of Denmark. Some historians believe that this character may have been a Polish princess known as Świętosława', whose father brought Christianity to Poland in 966.

So ironically to the main character, according to the internet, Sigrid may not have been real.

'Wsewolod' means 'lord-of-everything/everybody'

Medieval cuisine often had courses designed in order to aid in digestion according to the advice of humoral medicine. It may start with fruits, then vegetables, then light meats and finally heavy meats and certain vegetables and nuts thought harder to digest. 

Author's Note to Reviewers: 

Thanks for reviewing this. I'm still new to writing. I've mostly been writing stories based on prompts so far. This is the first short story I wrote just based on an inspiration. I struggled and rewrote this so many times that there may be typos that I can no longer see because I looked at them too much, so please point them out. I also struggled to hone in on the motivation behind Peter and Sigrid's actions. The story is based on a real person I know (name has been changed) and at the time I wrote the first draft, I did not know Peter's true fate. Thankfully, he did get a heart but it has been a long, difficult road.