Freya paces in her bedroom, waiting for the Midsummer Eve's celebration to start. A golden haze already brimming over the gardens outside as the celebratory bonfires are lit. They crest over the forest, into the distant villages, and ruby smoke rises from the distant mountains as the moon rises behind them. Celebration by firelight, Freya would find it dazzling if not for the knot twisting inside her stomach. Not if her one wish, being released from the oath, won't happen.
She dresses in a sage and terra cotta ensemble, leaving her room before Merlyn arrives to escort her. Facing him right now feels impossible with her feelings wildly stirring inside her. She needs to talk to him, but not yet. Not until she's ready and can handle the answer he'll give her. Tonight, she'll have a calm mask
