All were still sleeping, dreaming and worry-free, at Brandersgaard when Ailia arose early next morning. Her mind wouldn’t rest and kept churning and winding, provoking her heart with bothersome thoughts. What if our plan doesn’t work? What if Lucia betrays me again? What if Soren loves Lucia? What if—? Fear had come knocking, worming its way into her mind and she was helpless to let fear stay outside, feeling forced to open to its piercing demands.
This was the first time she could ever remember being up before Unni, who usually rose to light the hearth if it had gone out at night, or increase its blaze if it hadn’t. The flames were still aglow, bringing with them the only physical warmth the Northlandic Kingdom had seen in all too many months and the seasons were not about to return to normal any time soon. When she saw Soren asleep next to the hearth, her stomach fluttered. But when she remembered how they had left things last night, the flutters quickly morphed to boulders.
She wrapped a reindeer fur throw around her shoulders and quietly stepped outside, looking to the black, star-speckled heavens. The dry snow creaked below her feet with each step, and the bitter blasts of wind gusted against her face. If she ever needed help, it was now. Would her birth mother hear her if she called upon her? Was she listening and was she aware of what Ailia was faced with?
“Mother?” she beckoned, seeking loving advice from the spirit realm. “I feel so lost. I don’t know what to do. It seems like every choice I make ends up wrong. I feel I cannot move in the direction my heart tells me. If I tell Soren who I am, we may all be in more danger, yet I need his strength to move forward.” She walked casually over to the stable and entered where Volomite was standing. He was not asleep either. “Hello. Good to see you again.” She brushed his cold, black mane.
He nickered, pawing his hoof on the straw-covered, mud-packed floor below and moved his head to greet her.
“I missed you too.” She placed her hands on his face and stroked him calmly down his neck toward his well-developed shoulder. Letting him go, she strolled over to gather the eggs from the chicken cage.
They used to have dozens of chickens, but now, they were down to a measly seven after having lost them to the frost. Brander had mentioned he wanted to bring the fowls inside the main house before they all froze to death. In the beginning, Unni was fervently against it, not wanting the “incessantly chirping creatures” inside, but now she realized if they stayed outside for much longer, they wouldn’t have any chickens or eggs left.
Ailia picked up seven eggs, put them in the wicker basket next to the pen, and started toward the house again. Scrambled eggs for breakfast sounds delicious.
As she looked into the heavens again, she saw the Auroras gleaming brightly across the sky. Her mother was listening. Now it was time for Ailia to see if she could hear her mother calling from the grave, bestowing wisdom upon her spirit by speaking to her heart. She stood still for a moment, waiting for a revelation.
“Please, Mother, please tell me what to do with Soren. Should I tell him?” she whispered, closing her eyes, turning inward, but not receiving any communication other than her own thoughts, which were, It is too cold to stay out here.
Heavy of heart from not having received an answer, Ailia flung the reindeer throw onto the bench as she entered the front foyer. She heard movement from inside the house and when she glanced into the main room, she saw Unni breathing new life into the hearth.
“He’s here?” Unni whispered, looking up at Ailia as she entered.
“Yes,” Ailia confirmed, seeing he was still sleeping by the hearth. She followed Unni into the kitchen, and placed the eggs on the table.
“What’s wrong? You’re fretting over something,” Unni whispered.
She thought she had been able to hide her emotions, but of course, Unni could read her like an open book. “It’s nothing.” She thought about not bothering Unni with her problems, but she then quickly changed her mind. She needed a trusted confidant now more than ever. She took a cleansing breath. “It’s concerning Soren,” she said in a low voice.
“I see,” Unni said. “Tell me more.”
“I’m trying to pretend I’m someone else. Unfortunately, I’m not pretending very well.” She leaned her hip against the table and crossed her ankles and arms where she stood.
“I have been thinking about it as well. I believe the wise choice is to include Soren, even if telling him is potentially dangerous. There is strength in numbers. We will just have to be more careful in how you two interact in public. As far as we all know, Eiess still believes Lucia is the Great Sentinor and we need to use that fabricated reality to its fullest potential.”
“It’s not fair that Lucia has to take all the risk. She already resents me for it, and I cannot blame her. If Eiess discovers where she is hiding, she would kill her in an instant. She’s risking her life for me,” Ailia said.
“Look at it this way. If Lucia refuses to help, Eiess will come after you, killing you for the third and final time and everyone will perish by Eiess’ hands or live as thralls, in fear and bondage forever. You cannot take upon you someone else’s responsibilities in life, not even your sister’s. Each has to pay their own dues and find their own way.” Unni walked over to Ailia and placed her hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. “She is happy to do this for you and for everyone.”
“I still feel guilty.” Ailia pivoted away from Unni.
Unni placed her fists on her hips, glaring at Ailia. “Let go of the guilt, let go of the worry. Guilt is only there for misery’s benefit and if you hold on to it, it will decrease your strength. There’s no other purpose for guilt than to correct an error, before you choose to err or after you have done it.” Unni looked around the room as if she was searching for something. “There’s no error here,” she said, her hands and shoulders lifting up.
“I suppose—” Ailia started.
“Ah—” Unni stopped Ailia.
Ailia sighed in annoyance. “I understand,” she finally said, rolling her eyes.
“I mean it,” Unni said strictly, with the same look Ailia had seen hundreds of times growing up, when she knew something was to be taken seriously.
Ailia slowly broke a smile. “I do, I understand.” She laughed.
“So, what’s for breakfast?” Brander interrupted. “Serious stew?” He laughed at his own joke.
“Scrambled eggs,” Unni and Ailia said in unison. They looked at each other and smiled.
“Great, I will take three,” he said, fastening his belt around his shirt, still getting dressed for the day. “I’ve been losing some muscle lately and I need the meat.”
“Oh, no you won’t,” Unni said feistily. “Not until you finish building that indoor chicken coop we’ve been talking about.”
Brander looked at Ailia. “What mare demons visited her last night?” He winked at Ailia.
Ailia tried to remain serious but couldn’t help smiling.
“May I help get breakfast going?” Lucia said, looking all pretty and ready for the day. “I am starving!” Her wavy long, blond hair was brushed and she had put a dried flower over her ear.
“You look lovely today, Lucia,” Brander said.
“Soren arrived last night,” she said with a giddy smile.
Was she playing her part really well? Or was she truly trying to impress Soren? Ailia brushed the thought away quickly. Lucia had promised she would never betray her again.
Unni pointed toward the table with the pots and pan and looked at Ailia. “Fetch the pan. I’ll ready the omelets.”
Breakfast was prepared and devoured in a hurry. Soren had left right after breakfast with Lucia to pay Bishop Peter a visit. He said they’d be back by mid-day.
Today was a big day in Bergendal and no one wanted to miss any of the festivities that were held during the Late Summer Festival. Of course, the events had changed since its inception, not to mention the weather.
“I have decided to speak to Soren after the event tonight,” Ailia told Nora as they finished cleanin
g up after the meal.
Nora nodded, as her eyes blinked fervently, like they always did lately. Her wrinkled face had shriveled up nearly beyond recognition, with deep lines grooving into her leather-looking skin. It was as if she had aged overnight. She had lost one of her front teeth since she had arrived at Brandersgaard and her hair had thinned and whitened to a soft silver—like an angel’s.
“It is wise that we include Soren. Though, there is much danger associated with him knowing the truth, we are better off using his strength at this time,” Nora said, drying the pan slowly with her crinkly spotted hands. “Just make sure he is fully sober when you tell him.” She laughed. “You will want him to remember it in the morning.”
“He doesn’t seem like a man who is too fond of strong drinks,” Ailia said. “But just in case, I will make sure Lucia keeps an eye on him for me.”
After her chores were finished, Ailia went into the rearmost room and laid out her special blue Sunday dress on Unni and Brander’s bed. Her ivory, long-sleeved, ankle-length underdress looked quite frayed and old lying there next to the new blue over-dress, but it would have to do since it was the only one she had.
Everyone had left the house to either run errands or to do chores outside and she seized the opportunity for a bath. She filled the largest cauldron with melted snow, putting it on the hearth to heat. Once heated, she took it into the back room and set it down on the floor. Her last full body bath had been on their designated bath day—Saturday. Today was Thursday, named after the god of thunder, Thor.
Unni, who had recently been dubbed the best housewife in Bergendal, kept a neatly filled supply of linens and washcloths inside the wood pantry. She grabbed the top washcloth and laid it on the cauldron’s thick upper edge. She undressed and started to bathe.
Washing her body, she imagined what it would be like if Soren saw her like this. Would he be pleased with what he saw? Would he want to touch her bare skin where her clothes normally covered? Her breath caught as warmth spread through her, settling in side of the deepest, lowest part of her stomach. She washed the swell of her breasts, imagining it was his hands caressing her, seeing the look on his face, the desire in his eyes. Sliding the washcloth down between her legs, she let out a sudden, breathy sigh.
A creak in the flooring made her turn around and she covered herself as best she could with the washcloth. Soren stood in the main room, his body frozen stiff, his gaze directly at her. She met his eyes across the divide, the distance as if it were nothing. For whatever reason, she lowered her hand and the washcloth with it, standing before him in her pure form. It appeared he could not look away at first, as his eyes raked her with desire, as his lips parted with an exhale. When the washcloth fell to the floor, it was as if the spell was broken, and he quickly averted his eyes, as a low moan escaping his lips.
“I am sorry, Ailia. I thought no one was here,” he said, turning away. “I left a—something here.” He clenched his fist and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I know you didn’t mean it,” she said.
He excused himself and dashed out of the longhouse.
I wish he knew already, she thought. What would he have done had he known?
* * *