CHAPTER 005
1036 Words
FREJA'S [POV]
Freja’s Silent Submission to Mikkel’s Cold Rules and Cruel Demands
Freja stopped in the doorway, her heart hammering against her ribs as though it wanted to get out. Mikkel was seated on the couch, leaning his arm on the backrest and holding a half-full glass of amber spirits in one hand. Like a blade of ice, his cold eyes pierced the morning sunlight. Don't smile. No warmth. The same scowl.
"Sit."
The word came out of his mouth. No compassion. Definitely. Just give the command.
Freja didn't want to. Her body begged her to turn and leave, but her legs moved. It felt as though her legs were no longer hers. She walked slowly across the room, each step heavier than the last, and took the seat furthest from him. Her spine was still rigid, and her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. A cruel reminder of what he had done and taken the previous evening, her muscles ached. But she swallowed it. I pushed it away.
Mikkel sipped his drink and clinked the glass down on the table. The sound echoed sharply in the silence.
"We're setting rules," he said, flat and empty. "Because we now live together."
Rules? She wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. But her voice was a whisper. "What are the rules?"
Mikkel leaned forward. He stared at her.
He said, "The first rule is that you don't question me." I'm your wife now. You do as I say. No attitude. No games.
Her fingernails bit her palms. His words clamped down like chains, one by one.
He went on. Second rule. Anything that happens between us stays confidential. Avoid gossiping. Don't talk to your friends or servants. This is our business, not theirs.
With each word, it was like a lock turning. She remained silent. What was the objective?
"The third rule." He spoke in a low, threatening voice. "You smile in public. You pretend that everything is fine. You are the perfect wife. Everyone knows that you are Mrs Mikkel Sorensen, and everything is wonderful.
Tears threatened to burn in her eyes. But she blinked rapidly. held them in check.
"You got it?"
She nodded, small and tight.
"Excellent work."
He seemed to have listed groceries instead of shackles as he leaned back.
She trembled. Her palms hurt from pressing too hard. Why did he think this was okay? Why did it sound so natural coming from him?
She took a breath. Then go. Then, barely able to be heard above a breath, "And last night? Is that also covered by the rules?
His eyes flickered, but they vanished too fast to read. He leaned forward again, placing his elbows on his knees.
"Last night was a mistake," he said, as if it weren't a big deal. "I drank too much."You were there. You don't know how to keep your mouth shut.
She looked. What?
"I didn't provoke you."
"You didn't?" His voice cracked.
They looked at each other, and the tension in the air between them grew.
"You think I wanted this union?" He barked. "It was made possible by my Jarl. For territory, for authority. Do you think you're the only one who's lost something?
Her face was covered in blood. "You behave as if that explains your actions."
"You're not innocent either," he shot back. "You remained silent. You followed your father's instructions like a good little girl. You chose this life, this mess, too.
"No, I didn't!" she said, her voice breaking. "I didn't ask for this. Furthermore, you have no right to—
He growled. "To what?" "To treat you like my wife? You are my wife. That means I own you. Your body, your choices, your life—mine now.
She gasped, and her hands clenched again.
"I'm not your thing," she said, trembling. "I am a person. I'm hurting. Furthermore, what you" did—"It was nothing," he shouted. "You're overstating things. I only corrected you, but I pretended to have hurt you.
"You don't know me," she said, her voice faltering.
"I don't have to."
She let out a gasp. This was it. Her reality. The fact that she was trapped in it didn't even seem wrong to him.
He said coldly, "I'll make your life worse if you don't follow my rules." "You get it?"
Freja stared at him with a mixture of hate and fear in her chest. She wanted to scream. wished to destroy the space. But all she said was:
"I understand."
He nodded in satisfaction. Then get out of my line of sight. I'd prefer not to see you until after dinner.
Her legs felt heavy as she stood. With every step she took towards the door, she sensed something being pulled. But the ache in her chest continued.
Without looking back, she walked away.
---
She closed the door behind her without a word, pressing her back against it. It didn't feel any safer, but at least he was out of the hallway.
*Why am I here?*
Ideas kept popping into her head.
*This isn't a marriage. This isn't love. It's a jail.
She didn't realise she had started to walk until she was almost at the garden. No one was present. The hedges were blown by a slight wind.
She sat on a stone bench with her knees to her chest. She kept thinking.
*Maybe I should have gone for a run before the wedding. I may have to leave now. But where would I go? He would find me. Or my father would drag me back. or worse.
Footsteps behind her. She didn't glance around.
"You're up early," a servant girl said cautiously.
Freja remained silent. The girl paused, then continued.
"Has something happened?"
Freja stood up. "Nothing happened. Everything is going well.
The girl blinked. "But your face—"
"It's okay," I replied.
She left before more questions could be asked. Her hands clenched again. She hated the ease of lying.
Returning to her room, she closed the curtains, seated on the edge of the bed. She touched the marks on her arm.
She whispered to herself, "I don't belong to anyone."
But she didn't think so.
- Writer
