FREYA
I do not struggle with them as they lead me away. I do not even let my heart race with the fear I have thinking of the many ways I will be paying for my father's sins.
I brace for it the whole way, for the cold stone and the silver and the slow patient questions, for the room my father built the like of in a hundred packs.
I know what is coming. I watched it done to this very man. I know exactly what his revenge will look like but they will not see my fear.
But as we step out of the prison corridors, my fear slowly mixes with curiosity because they do not take me down as I expect.
They take me up.
Through the compound and up a flight of stairs and into a warm room with a fire and a wide bed and a table laid with food and they leave me there and lock the door behind me.
I sta
