During the coming days, Saga barely had a moment alone during the days. As soon as she was in the dining room, Kai was by her side. He would talk to her about anything and nothing, often together with his friend Evind and some of the other knights. They would keep the conversations going so that she at times found herself not leaving the place before it was time for the next meal.

When she wasn't being entertained by them, Astrid would find her, insisting they took advantage of Viggo's absence by training as much as possible. With the weather being as it was, they had the training in unused rooms instead of outside.

They all kept her so busy she even had a hard time finding time to spend with Magni, so when she did, the horse huffed and turned his head to start with before Saga coxed him with some treats.

It meant she didn't have the opportunity to worry about Viggo during the days, which she was certain was the other's intention. When night fell, however, when she was alone in the all-too-big bed and all-too-cold room, the worry came with suffocating force.

Her mind imagined him struggling against golems that ended up overpowering him. Imagined him in the snow, bleeding out from some wound. Imagined him returning not alive but fallen.

And her worry infected her dreams, making it impossible for her to know what were premonitions of things to come and what were simply nightmares.

She dreamt of the things her imagination concocted right before bed. The only comfort about those dreams was that they were much more distorted than her dreams usually were. Fragmented and jumping from one thing to another. They never played any scene in whole. So though she always woke up in a panic, she managed to calm herself into almost believing they were nightmares and nothing more.

Harder to dismiss were the dreams about her father, which started to plague her.

She dreamt she was back in his hands. He ripped the back of her dress open. The sound of fabric tearing; a prelude to what next would be torn. Then he forced her to bend over a desk before a belt hit her back. From how she was positioned in the dream, she saw both herself and her father, saw her father's lips twist into a smile every time she cried out in pain.

When she woke up from those dreams, she would immediately get dressed and hurry to the dining hall. So far, without fail, Kai had already been up and there, and with his smile brightening her eyes and voice soothing her ears, she could remember that her father's violence belonged to the past. The dream was only a memory coming back to haunt her. She was safe and with people who would never harm her.

But eventually she woke up in the middle of the night from one of those dreams. The dream had been real enough she could feel the pain across her back. So much of it, she could barely breathe. Tears welled up in her eyes, and by instinct she reached for the other side of the bed.

Only to remember that it was empty. Only to remember Viggo wasn't there keeping her safe. Instead, he was out risking his life.

Her whole body trembled, and she drew the blanket closer to chase away the cold, but it grew in her body. And it was painful to breathe, painful to even exist. She desperately needed something, someone to be her strength. She didn't even care how weak that made her, how useless and burdensome. Staying in the empty bedroom alone wasn't an option.

Her legs barely held her body upright as she got out of bed. Her hands quivered so much that she barely got a robe over her nightgown. And every step felt like it could be her last.

But she went on because she needed someone with her—anyone.

Everything in the castle was silent. Not even the whistling wind from outside, which had filled the castle most nights as of late, could be heard. A few candles flickered in the corridor, making the shadows move. She hugged herself and felt ready to cower in case her father came out from one of them.

Everywhere she walked it looked deserted, and of course it would be. Everyone else would be fast asleep, except maybe a few guards. If she wanted company, she would need to disturb someone's rest.

The person who came to her mind surprised her, but she followed the instinct without questioning it.

She didn't need to wait long after knocking on his door before he opened it, and considering he was in his usual clothes—the white shirt and brown pants—Saga could breathe a sigh of relief over the fact that she likely hadn't woken him up.

"Lady Saga?" Hrafen said, eyes widened. "Why are you not fast asleep?"

Simply being in the presence of another calm Saga's body.

"A dream woke me up," she explained, her words coming out low and raspy.

"About Viggo? Did you see him in danger?" Hrafen asked with an unusual urgency in his voice.

She shook her head. "About..." She swallowed. "About my father."

The mage's eyes relaxed, got their normal bored appearance, and his voice returned to the same. "And you disturbed me for a simple nightmare?"

Her hand went up to dry away a few tears. Shame took the place of her anxiety. She really had been foolish to disturb Hrafen, to disturb anyone for something as silly as a nightmare.

Hrafen sighed. "I'll make you some chamomile tea if you promise to leave me be after having had it."

He stepped to the side to allow her entrance to his room. She couldn't see any free space to sit apart from the bed. By the desk there was a chair, but it overflowed with fabrics. So she remained standing in the middle of the room while the mage bustled to make the tea. It increased her shame, made her feel like an intruder.

When he was done, he promptly sat down on the floor with a cup for himself and placed the other on the floor in front of him. Hesitating for a moment, Saga sat down opposite him. The stone floor was cold, but there was something grounding about sitting on the floor. From there, no matter what, there was no place to fall.

"Does the Lady want to say anything more about the dream, or does she wish to keep her crumbling secrets?" Hrafen asked before taking a sip from his cup.

She only shook her head as a response.

"Well then, I'll let you keep them. Anything else the Lady wishes to converse about? Or is silence her chosen comfort?"

She wanted to talk, or rather, she wanted him to fill the room with words. Be it snarky or rude, or actually comforting. Just any to chase away the emptiness.

So she grasped at the only topic she could come up with. Something she had wondered about ever since Viggo had left. "Why are you the only mage here? My father had five mages, I think, and I know others have two at the very least."

The mage put his cup down on the floor as his eyes darkened.

"What makes the Lady suddenly curious about this?" he asked with a tone matching his eyes.

"I just... Well... Of course Palaja has their own mages, but it is simply inconvenient that Viggo has to choose between leaving Sinkbek without a mage or going toward danger himself without one." She bit her lips and hoped the question didn't offend Hrafen, for she hadn't meant it to at all. It was only something she found strange, and she hadn't found a reasonable explanation for herself.

"There are two factors involved in that matter," Hrafen began and took a sip of his tea. Then he stared at her own untouched cup. "Are you going to drink the tea or let it go cold so I'll have to make you some more?"

Saga grabbed the cup and took a large gulp. The hot beverage burnt her mouth, but as it travelled down her throat, warmth spread in her body.

"You know about the island of Forlek? And that all mages go there to learn?" he asked her, and she nodded, doubting anyone in the Kingdom hadn't heard of the island said to have magic dancing in the air. "I wasn't taught there, and as such, other mages view me as someone not to be trusted and therefore refuse to work with me. And right as Viggo became a lord, he made it publicly clear he'd employ me. Which leads to the second part. I'm certain you know what others say about him. Calling him a barbarian and such. There are a lot of reasons they do. That he isn't of noble birth is one, that rather resolves things through actions than politics is another. That he sided with me against some of the most well-respected mages is another. So the few mages who might have considered working alongside me or alongside him certainly don't want to work alongside the untrustworthy mage and the barbaric lord."

Chills and guilt ran down Saga's spine as she remembered how she had herself thought of Viggo before they had been married. How she had taken other's opinions of him as fact. How she had judged without asking a single question.

"Where were you taught?" she asked to distract herself from those thoughts.

"Is the Lady truly asking me to reveal all of my secrets while giving none of hers?" he sneered.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled and looked down at her cup. "You needn't answer."

She took another sip to have something to do, then continued to stare down the cup while silence filled the room. Her brain raced to find another topic of conversation, anything to dispel the silence. She even wished for a storm to start outside so that the wind would whistle.

"Vander," Hrafen said.

She raised her head to meet his eyes. They held hers steady, but she could almost see something reminiscent of pain in them.

She knew her own had to carry her surprise. From what she had been taught, Vander was unlivable. Not only because it was filled with various monsters, but because the climate was much harsher than in Ranriki. In winter it was said to become so cold even the air froze, and in summer so dry not a thing could grow.

"I didn't know people live there," she said, and that slight pain in his eyes eased.

"There aren't many. But a few do, yes. Around one village in numbers. Most live all of their lives in Vander, so it is not strange for you to not know. In fact, as far as I'm aware, I'm the only one who has left to live in Ranriki."

"And why did you?"

A smile spread across the mage's lips. The first smile Saga could remember seeing on his face. It made him look younger, less worn, more human.

"Though no one left to ever live in Ranriki, a few would travel across the border and then return with stories about the land. They always spoke about how green the grass was, how grand the trees grew, how clear the water flowed, and I wanted to see it for myself."

"And you never considered returning?"

"I did once. But there was nothing left for me there. So I left again."

They both fell silent and drank from their tea. Saga felt the calming effects of the warm liquid, though her mind still considered Hrafen's words. And especially she felt as though she saw the mage for who he actually was for the first time. Not rude and condescending, but a boy who had dreamt of the grass, the trees, and the water to then grow into a man mistrusted by others due to where he came from.

"You've finished your tea. Time for you to sleep," Hrafen broke the silence and snatched the cup out of her hand. Unceremoniously dismissing her, but she left feeling calm and thankful for the mage's company, and quite able to fall back asleep.