FREYA
He wasnât there the next day. Days passed without seeing Aurik.
The weight of loneliness once again took up most of her day.
Freya had more dread in the afternoons as that was when she spent time caring for her mother. The once full of joy Gwylan was a shell who stayed in bed and barely ate.
âMother, will you wash for me?â Freya handed her a clean, damp cloth. She kept her tone bright. Sometimes her mother would rouse herself enough to bathe. If not, Freya would have to clean her, as her mother had done for her when she was a baby.
Gwylan took the washcloth and put it to her face.
The presence of her only living nestling was the only thing that could remotely rouse her from the darkness that was taking over. Losing her firstborn seemed to have snuffed out any life within her. Even her husband was unable to fully rouse the love of his life.
Freya had feelings building inside her. It wasnât fair that after Ragaâs death her mother got to simply give up. It felt as if she didnât care about her last daughter and husband anymore. Father was still working, and Freya was taking on more to care for their home. Mother wasnât the only one grieving, but she was the only one refusing to get up.
âYouâre not alone, Mama. Iâm hurting too, and I need you now. We need you to be with us still,â Freya pleaded.
Gwylan dropped the cloth then. Freya had to pick it up and finish the work. She wished Alvyna would come, although she didnât want Alvyna to see her mother like this.
***
After a fortnight of waiting for the prince, Freya was worried about him. The rumors she overheard at the market were of war.
Dreading to go home to her shell of a mother, she stayed at the base of her home tree enjoying the shade and chill of the noon winds. Freya was half asleep in the grass when she heard voices overhead.
Recognizing her fatherâs voice, Freya felt a twinge of excitement. He was home early. Sheâd better get up there and make sure the house was clean and ready for him.
The sound of a second person made her pause on her way up.
The two men speaking moved from the landing inside the home.
Freya wasnât able to make out what they were saying. Who could this stranger be talking to her father?
Once on the landing, she tried to be silent and eavesdrop on the conversation happening on the other side of the door. Freyaâs foot hit a squeaky plank of wood on the way.
The door flew open.
Lonan looked toward his daughter with regret before motioning her to join him inside.
It took every bit of control she had not to ask him what was going on.
Freya recognized the stranger as a noble from his clothing. His back was turned to her as he faced the smoldering coals in the hearth. The fire was banked, and she hurried to stir the fire and throw some wood on it.
The flitting light of the fire cast eerie shadows on the silky deep grays in his robes.
âFreya, please warmly welcome Sir Allen Grouse,â Lonan gestured to the Council member whose brown and black speckled wings matched his family name.
The man nodded at her. He had dark hair that was starting to gray at his temples and in patches of his facial hair with pointed features and beady black eyes.
Freya felt a chill through the down at her nape as the noble man looked her up and down, leaving his eyes to linger on the empty space behind her back where wings should have been. Instinctively she crossed her arms as if to shield herself from his gaze.
âNice to meet you,â he said.
Freya gave a slight curtsy, trying not to look the Grouse in the eye.
âDaughter, please put on a kettle for tea. Sir Allen, would you care to join me for a seat?â Lonan motioned for the Council member to sit on their nicest chair.
Freya slid to the corner of the hearth to find the kettle and tea leaves. She tried to listen to the conversation as best she could. What was a noble doing at her house? Freya could just make out some of the conversation.
âWith this promotion of title comes a responsibility to our people, Lonan. Your eldest knew the responsibilities to her people and gave her life bravely fighting to protect the ones she loved. As a member of the council, your family would be expected to move into a manse in the mountain. You would be needed there to fulfill any duties asked of you by the royal family.â
âOf course, sir. I served unquestioningly with the guard in my younger days. My loyalty is to the Adaryn people. Just like I taught Raga.â Her fatherâs voice trailed off.
âAnd Freya, I hope?â Allen asked.
His mention of her name gave Freya chills. This man needed her for something. And she didnât know what.
âWithout a doubt. Freya would do anything for her people, just like her sister. Within her abilities, of course.â
âOf course.â
Freya got a glimpse of Sir Grouseâs eyes through the hearth that split the kitchen and family space. The glint and fire reflected in his small black eyes made her shiver despite the fire. She was already afraid of him.
âLonan, I hate to bring it up, but you know how people talk. I have to ask about Freya. Iâd hate to have anything come up that shouldnât be spoken of, you understand?â
âNo, completely. You are referring, of course, to the fact that she canât fly. The muscles in her wings just never developed correctly. She was born too soon and fell sick often. The physician didnât expect her to survive into molting age, because her wings were small and deformed. They had to be removed. Yet my youngest was fierce. She survived despite the odds.â
âAh, lovely to hear her health problems are nothing serious. Such a beauty as herself will likely thrive among the noble families. I have no doubt.â
~Thrive among the noble families?~
Freya didnât like what she was hearing. What had her father been up to in his long days and evenings spent away from home? She thought heâd been working.
She had the tea prepared by now, and she wanted to get this man out of the house as quickly as she could. That meant serving the tea, even if they were still talking about her.
She brought out two cups of tea and set them on the low table before the men.
Allen placed a cold hand over hers as she was removing them from the porcelain handles.
âThank you, dear. And congratulations to your family.â The noble looked at Lonan questioningly.
Her father nodded.
As if heâd received the permission he needed, the man kept a grip on Freyaâs hand. âIn honor of your sisterâs service to the Valkyrie, your family is being promoted into the line of nobles. Your father has been offered a position amongst the council after word of Ragaâs sacrifice reached us and your fatherâs prior captains spoke to us of him. Weâd be fools not to have the wise words of such a loyal man helping our people into the future.â
This should have been a great honor, but she felt only dread.
Allen released Freyaâs hand after what she expected was supposed to come across as a reassuring squeeze. Her heart sank into her stomach.
~What was going to happen to her?~
***
Lonan was in a bright mood. He spent the afternoon beginning to pack the familyâs belongings in preparations for the move to the mountain.
Allen Grouse had told her father that Gwylan would get better care from the nobleâs personal physician. Soldiers would come in the morning to help them migrate to their new home.
To Freya, this was sudden and almost unheard of. Nobles and council members were from long lines of families passing down their roles from one generation to the next. It was rare for a newcomer to join their ranks.
And their family was low born. They didnât even have a trade. Her father was a farmer and her mother sewed. They lived on the outskirts of town. Their one claim to fame was a Valkyrie daughter who died in battle. It didnât make sense to promote them to the rank of nobility, even with her fatherâs service.
She dreaded what the high society Adaryn would think of her missing wings. If the people in town were used to staring, the high society people would probably be just as bad, if not worse. At least here, she could climb trees and hunt, and nobody knew that Aurik had been visiting her. Once they were up at the mountain, there would be nowhere for her to escape. And Aurik probably wouldnât dare to be seen with her.
Freya packed her sparse belongings trying to imagine what it would be like if Aurik did want to be her friend, even with all of the other nobles around. The thought brought her hope.
Perhaps sheâd be welcomed if the others in the presence of the royal court saw the prince look at her as fondly as he did during their time together. But she worried that he might be ashamed of their friendship and pretend not to know her. She expected no different from him.
There was a weight in Freyaâs chest. She turned to Ragaâs empty bed. It would be left behind in the move as it was no longer needed. Some other family would take their home.
Ragaâs dirty armor still sat on her bed. Freya should at least clean it and find someone who could use it. Especially if they were going to war.
Freya felt tears well up in her eyes. Sobs began to wrack through her body uncontrollably as memories of her and Raga playing as children and gossiping as they grew older came back to her.
She decided to leave the armor for the next family. They could clean it up and find someone to use it. Perhaps theyâd have a daughter of the right age and size.
A small part of Freya felt as though she were leaving the last bits of Raga behind with this move.
Her father kept saying this was a great opportunity for the family, but Freya didnât want to leave. This had always been her home. She couldnât imagine what kind of life sheâd have in a mansion. What would she be able to contribute? She would never be like anyone else.