A Court of Heritance and Destiny

Chapter 4 Freya

She counted the stars above her, over and over. Painted in yellows, greens, reds, white. Some glowed when night came. She wondered why this precise constellation of stars was above her bed. They all looked to have been made with a steady hand, every single one was different. Unique. She followed them in different patterns, trying to guess what constellations they were.

No one had entered her room, no one had talked to her since coming here. Every morning a breakfast stood on her bedside table, a tonic for the cramps. She often fell asleep after, waking up to find a tray with lunch, a new tonic, then at night, dinner. She knew that she was no prisoner, that she could get up and leave the bed without anyone stopping her.

But she stayed in bed, dealing with the bloody underwear and painful cramps on her own. Maybe her father would come around soon, knock on her door and tell her that she could come home now. That the people who had taken her here just made sure that she was alright. That everything that had happened was a fever dream. Freya pulled her knees up to her chest, turning to lay on her side. Her father would soon be here, he would come and take her home.

The eighth breakfast tray stood on the bedside table once she woke up again. Eggs and bacon, some bread, cheese and jams. An envelope rested next to a glass of juice, Freya reached over to move the tray to her lap. Slowly she opened the letter, expecting it to be her father. But no.

A neat, clean handwriting invited her to come out of the room.

We all would love to meet you. Said the final line in the letter. Freya played around with it, unsure if it was a good idea.

What if her father came to this room to get her and she was away? Or if Lord Escar saw her socialise with others? But... She looked down on the letter, the handwriting. Someone in this house wanted to see her, maybe she could ask when she could go back home? Freya ate her breakfast, amazed over how good the eggs tasted, every meal she had received in the home tasted amazing. Far from the ashen dishes back home.

That is an upside to this. She said to herself and got up from the bed. Her legs did feel a bit unsteady as she got up, but they carried her to a dark wardrobe, she had no good clothes for any kind of meetings. A white cotton nightgown was not appropriate. The clothes that she found looked like they could fit, but the cut and style was so different from what she was used to. Made out of flowy silk in different arrangements of colours. Freya picked out a set in pale pink, and put it on. She entered the bathroom and planned to fix her hair. Only to freeze.

Pale skin and nothing else was on her head. The brittle blond strands were nowhere to be seen. Not even light fuss. She lifted her hand, feeling the exposed skin. She knew it was gone, but it still felt strange seeing herself like that. Her brown eyes got a strange light to them in the bathroom, making them look lighter. More awake. She walked out, searching the wardrobe for a shawl or anything similar to hide her head with. It was a solution for now, until it started to grow out again. If it grew out.

She swallowed. Would Lord Escar still agree to marry her after this? Fate had plans for her, was this a part of the plans? Or a punishment from the cauldron for her doubts?

It was with hesitant steps she walked up to the door, scared to do anything wrong. What if they meant that they would come and get her later on? And that she could not leave on her own? Freya clenched her fists.

I can always say that I was unsure. They can't be mad that I don't know the rules. She justified it to herself and opened the door. Holding her breath as the hallway outside came into view.

White walls, with dark details. Many more doors like hers, grand windows to the outside. She took a step towards them, seeing a grey autumn day outside. Rain hit the glass, making it hard to see any details. But she remained there, staring out. She guessed a large maple tree stood near the window, then it looked to be a river not far out. Well trimmed bushes that had lost their leaves for the autumn.