Mist & Moonlight

Chapter 27 | A Warning from A Friend

Princess Freydis sat on the edge of her bed, one hand resting protectively over the swell of her belly. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Kattegat's great hall, casting a soft glow, but her mind was restless. Though her return to Kattegat had brought her closer to Erik and her family, the shadow of her time with Jarl Arlick still haunted her, lingering like a distant storm on the horizon.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," Freydis called, her voice steady.

A servant entered, carrying a sealed letter. "A message for you, my lady."

Freydis took the letter, recognizing the red wax seal—Princess Sigrid. With a quick tear, she broke the seal and began to read:

To Princess Freydis, Daughter of King Rorik of Kattegat,

It is with great concern that I send this warning. Whispers travel from the eastern clans, and they grow louder by the day. They claim that Jarl Arlick's death was no accident but a murder orchestrated by your father. His former supporters are gathering allies under the banner of vengeance, intent on retribution against Kattegat.

These threats are not idle. Their numbers swell with each passing day, and they will soon march. The time to prepare is now. I hope this letter finds you in time.

With hope and friendship,
Princess Sigrid

Freydis's heart pounded. The words blurred as she reread the letter, each line striking like a blow. Arlick's supporters, stirring rebellion. Her father's name branded as a murderer. And now, the threat of war—war sparked by a man whose shadow still poisoned her life.

She couldn't waste a moment. Freydis rose from her seat, pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders. This had to reach her father immediately.

Freydis rushed into the great hall, where King Rorik, Leif, and Erik were seated around the long oak table, locked in quiet conversation. They looked up as she entered, sensing the urgency in her step.

"Father, you need to see this." Freydis crossed the hall and handed Rorik the letter.

Rorik's eyes darkened as he read, his jaw tightening. "So it begins," he muttered grimly. He passed the letter to Leif, who read it quickly, his expression hardening.

"They're spreading lies to stir rebellion," Leif growled. "Arlick's death was no one's fault but his own."

Erik folded his arms, a flicker of concern in his gaze. "How much time do we have?"

"Not enough," Rorik said, his voice grim. "If these rumors continue to spread, the eastern clans will rally others to their cause. We must prepare Kattegat, and we will need every ally we can call upon."

Before Rorik could issue his next command, the heavy doors of the hall swung open, and Signe, Ingrid's sister, entered with quiet intensity. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she carried the weight of someone always ready for battle.

Signe's sharp gaze swept over the room. "What's going on?" she asked, her tone direct.

Freydis took a steadying breath. "There's trouble brewing in the east. Arlick's supporters are spreading rumors that Father ordered his death. They're gathering allies to rise against us."

Signe's expression remained unreadable for a moment, but then a dangerous spark flickered in her eyes. "If it's a fight they want, they'll get one," she said simply. "My people will stand with Kattegat."

Freydis gave her a grateful nod. "We'll need every sword."

Rorik turned to Leif. "You will leave soon to rally our allies. Alfheim, Oppland, Westfold—we'll need them all if we're to stand against this rebellion."

Leif gave a solemn nod, though Freydis noticed the flicker of frustration in his expression. He wanted to ride out immediately, but they needed time to prepare. The road ahead would not be easy or safe.

Later that evening, Freydis sought out Erik. She found him sharpening his sword by the fire, his broad shoulders relaxed but his gaze focused. He looked up as she approached, his blue eyes softening when they met hers.

"Freydis," he greeted, setting the blade aside. "What's on your mind?"

Freydis hesitated for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her cloak. "This is my fault," she whispered, the weight of her guilt spilling over.

Erik's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

She sank onto the bench beside him, folding her arms over her belly. "If I hadn't gone to Arlick—if I hadn't left you—none of this would be happening. His people wouldn't have a reason to rally against us."

Erik shifted closer, his hand resting gently over hers. "Freydis, listen to me." His voice was calm but firm, steady as a mountain. "This is not your fault. Arlick was looking for trouble long before you ever crossed his path. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else."

Freydis shook her head, doubt still gnawing at her. "But I gave him power. I ran to him—"

"And you came back," Erik interrupted gently. "You made things right. Don't let his memory poison that."

Freydis blinked, her throat tightening with emotion. She felt Erik's hand squeeze hers, grounding her.

"Arlick's supporters are using his death as an excuse to stir chaos," Erik continued. "But that's all it is—an excuse. It was only a matter of time before they challenged Rorik's rule."

Freydis swallowed hard, searching his eyes. "You really believe that?"

"I do," Erik said without hesitation.

Freydis leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. The fire crackled softly beside them, its warmth chasing away the chill of the night. For the first time in days, the knot in her chest began to loosen.

Erik kissed the top of her head, his hand resting protectively over hers. Freydis closed her eyes, drawing strength from his presence.