The cold breeze sweeps through the balcony, and I instinctively hug my body, seeking warmth in the chill.
"You talked for a long time," Vidar finally observes, breaking the oppressive silence.
"He was kind to me," I admit, my words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "He is the first person in the castle who treats me well." The admission hangs in the air, a reflection of the loneliness I've felt within these stone walls.
Vidar turns to me, and the yellow tint in his eyes catches my attention. A sudden sense of unease creeps over me, prompting a reflexive step backward.
"did not I treat you well?" he questions, his voice carrying a mixture of hurt and frustration.
"You are my husband. When I speak of person... I mean the elders. They did not treat me well," I explain in a hushed whisper
