Viggo had been right about telling Saga they could do something the day after tomorrow. As Saga woke up the morning following the drinking, her head felt as though needles pressed everywhere from the headache caused by both the hangover and her crying. So when Viggo suggested she spend the day resting in bed, she didn't protest.

The next day, she rose bright and early, however; her mood mirrored the clear blue sky outside.

"What will we do?" she asked as she moved from the bed to the table where breakfast waited on her, and, highly unusual, Viggo as well.

"Something that'll require you to wear comfortable clothes that you can move in," he answered, but explained no further.

After eating, Saga got into the pants she had worn for her training with Astrid. When she came out from behind the parishioner, Viggo frowned.

"When did you get pants made?" he asked.

"A while back," she mumbled, her eyes going to the floor. "When Astrid started teaching me."

It wasn't that she had hidden the pants from him, but she also hadn't told him about them, so confessing to it felt as though she confessed to a sin.

"You look good in them," Viggo said, washing away all the shame she felt. Her head went up again, and she smiled.

"They are much more comfortable than dresses," she admitted. "And much easier to move in."

"You should get yourself more then."

If it was even possible, her mood became an even brighter sky.

Viggo led the way while Saga's mind raced with possibilities of what they might do. She settled on believing they would go for a ride. But as they stepped outside, Viggo steered in the opposite direction of the stables. Towards the training grounds.

"I've told the rest to take the morning off, so we'll have it to ourselves," Viggo said as they stepped inside the circular area.

"To do what?" Saga's heart hammered against her ribcage, her mind running wild again and wondering if this was some weird way of his to punish her.

"I have to ensure Astrid taught you well, and see what more I think she should teach you."

Saga stopped in the middle of the short stairs down to the open area. "You mean you'll let Astrid continue to teach me?"

Viggo turned around to her. He gave her a soft smile, though his eyes were darker. Clouded by sadness and another emotion Saga couldn't place.

"Yes. She was right from the start. There is nothing wrong with you learning to defend yourself."

Saga took the last few steps down, feeling as though she could do anything. "Thank you, Viggo."

Some of the darkness from his eyes eased. "So, you were training with a dagger, right?"

Saga nodded, and Viggo procured a dagger from his belt. Only it wasn't like the dagger Astrid had given her. The dagger Viggo handed over looked more like normal daggers did compared to the needle-like dagger she had got used to.

"That's a different kind of dagger," Saga confessed as she reached out and took it from Viggo.

"What kind did you use with Astrid?"

"It was really thin and pointy. Like a needle," Saga said as she weighed the new dagger in her hand. Since the blade was much wider, it was heavier in her hand.

"A rondel dagger?" Viggo asked, then snorted. "Typically Astrid to teach you how to use one of those."

"They are very practical for several things," Astrid's voice came from behind Saga, and she turned to see the other woman leaning against the entrance to the grounds.

"They are only good when defending yourself against someone wearing armour. She's more likely to be attacked by an animal or monster," Viggo answered with a sigh.

"And you see, that's where we are of different beliefs." Astrid moved forward and sat herself down on the stair's steps.

"Why are you here? Did you miss that I gave all of you the morning to rest?" Viggo asked her next.

"No, but I have to watch over my student as she shows what she's learnt, haven't I?" Astrid winked, then waved her hand for them to continue.

Saga's back grew straighter from Astrid's words. Though the thought of having both Viggo and Astrid watch her movements and determine how well she performed made her heart pick up speed, she also felt a certain calm at having Astrid there as well as a determination to not disappoint.

Viggo shook his head at her before turning his attention fully back on Saga.

"Take a defensive stance," he told her.

Saga's body moved without her having to consider what to do—Astrid had given her the same order enough times. Though the different kind of knife in her hand felt foreign. She wasn't sure how to hold it, but tried to apply one of the ways Astrid had shown her with the rondel dagger to it.

Viggo moved forward and readjusted her thumb against the guard. When done, he nodded and took a step back.

"Seems you've learnt well," he complimented.

Heat crawled up Saga's face together with a smile. The sun shone so bright above her, she doubted it would ever disappear as the last of winter's coldness ebbed from her body.

Then Viggo held up his armour-clad arm. "Now use the knife to attack me."

"Excuse me?" Saga exclaimed, forgetting all about her posture and turning to Astrid. She had trained wielding the knife with Astrid, but then it had always been against a shield or similar, never against the knight herself.

"The dagger is dulled, and I'm wearing armour," Viggo pointed out. "There is no risk of you harming me, but I want to feel the power of your strike."

Saga swallowed and shuffled her feet forward. Viggo's eyes were soft, encouraging, but Saga's grip on the knife felt slippery. She raised the arm and slashed without any intent or purpose, making the dagger fall through the air without even being close to striking Viggo's arm.

She cringed, her shoulders sagged, and she readied herself for Viggo to tell her how useless she was. That there was no point in her learning to defend herself.

But his eyes remained gentle. "Try again," he told her.

On her third attempt, the knife connected with Viggo's armour. He had her do it a few times more, each time her strike landed with more strength. Then Viggo had her recite and show all other things which Astrid had taught her. Like the weak parts of armour, and how to defend herself if she had no knife. How she could use her opponent's size and her own small frame to her advantage. As well as that, if a man not wearing armour attacked her, the best thing she could do was kick him between the legs before running. Something which made Viggo both shudder and laugh.

When they had gone through it all, Viggo turned to Astrid. "She needs to build more muscles. And please teach her to defend herself against other things than men as well."

Astrid clicked her tongue. "Fine."

"Good. Come on now. Let's head inside for some lunch."

"Will you eat..." Saga started asking, but the question died in her throat, not sure exactly how to phrase it or even what to ask. She wasn't sure what she wanted most: to eat alone with him to bridge more of the gap created between them, or to eat with him together with the other knights to heal the wounds covering the whole castle.

"I was thinking we could eat together in our room," he answered the unfinished question. "If you would like that."

She beamed at him. "I would."

Together they walked back to the castle, Astrid leaving them to take a side door inside.

"The garden has started to bloom," Viggo pointed out as they neared it. "I... ehm, I wouldn't mind if you told me what the different flowers are after we've eaten."

Glancing at him, Saga saw redness on his cheek while he kept his eyes on the ground as if to make sure he didn't trip over anything.

"I'd love to," she answered, and though his posture remained the same, his lips tugged upwards.

But as the entrance came into full view, Saga knew she wouldn't get to do it.

Right by the door, Hrafen leaned against the wall. It was the first time Saga saw him since their argument, but the mage looked as ever before. As bored. Though the way his eyes travelled between them created knots in Saga's stomach, made her certain whatever had brought him outside wasn't anything good.

His eyes landed on Viggo. "You've received a letter."

A deep sigh left Viggo as he turned to look at Saga. "You'll have to eat alone..."

"The letter concerns the Lady as well," Hrafen interrupted. "It is from Fyris."

The sun in the sky still warmed; it more than warmed. The rays scorched Saga's skin, making her feel unbearably warm. And the clothes on her body, the clothes which had been made for her to have comfortable clothes for when she trained, felt far too tight as if they had shrunk, and they kept shrinking until she found it hard to breathe.

"Saga," she heard Viggo say at her side, but his voice was drowned by her father's echoes in her mind. The taunts he had repeated as his belt had struck her time and time again.

Arms engulfed her. Protected her from the sun's rays. The scent of forest filled her, and she clung to it. Pressed herself as close to it as she could. Let herself be carried away by it.

The sun's glare disappeared completely as two pairs of steps thudded against the stone floor. Hinges creaked. Then Saga felt herself shift in the arms which held her. Felt herself go from being carried to sitting, and realised Viggo had sat down somewhere inside with her on his lap. His hand went up and down her back in soothing motions, and each time it changed direction, Saga found it easier to breathe until she managed to raise her head from Viggo's shoulder.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his hand continuing its travel.

She wasn't sure better was the right word, wasn't sure she could ever feel better about anything regarding her father. But at least she could breathe again; nothing burnt, and Viggo's voice was louder than her father's taunts. So she nodded.

"Are you ready to hear the content of the letter?" he asked next.

She wasn't, but she didn't believe she ever would be, so she nodded again.

Viggo's eyes left her to look over her shoulder. She slid out of his embrace to sit on the couch and face Hrafen. When she first met the mage's eyes, something flickered in them. But whatever it was didn't stay long enough for Saga to identify it before boredom took its place.

"The Duke is writing because of the King's summon and the Lady's birthday. He points out that the birthday happens at such a time that it would be convenient to come here and celebrate it, then we can travel together with them to the capital."

"A convenient way for him to put us between himself and any peril on the way," Viggo muttered.

"Indeed," Hrafen nodded.

In the corner of her eyes, Saga saw Viggo studying her, but she did not turn her gaze to meet his. Instead, she focused on a small crack in the wall. Too many thoughts swirled in her. Each replacing the one before faster than she could follow. However, the feeling of the thoughts was the same. Numbing dread.

"We cannot refuse him," Viggo said next.

"Unfortunately. It would be too clear a slight," Hrafen answered.

"You will send my reply?"

Hrafen didn't answer, but simply left the room to carry the order out. Left Saga and Viggo alone.

"Saga," Viggo mumbled, which caused her to snap her head toward him.

"The rooms!" she exclaimed. "The guest bedrooms. I need to tell the merchant we need them done faster. Same with the banquet hall. That all needs to be done by the time..."

Viggo leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaning his against hers.

"You don't need to hurry with it. Let him think what he wants. I rather you take your time so it turns out the way you want it."

"Okay," she answered, though she knew she needed it done before her father arrived. Viggo maybe didn't care what her father thought, but she did.

"You are scared of him," Viggo said next.

Saga moved away and looked down at her lap where her fingers wrangled with each other.

"I'm not," she lied.

Viggo sighed. Deep. Disappointed. "I know I haven't acted the best recently," he said. "But I am trying. Your safety will always be one of my first priorities, though. But when you blatantly lie to me, it becomes hard for me to find a balance between keeping you safe and respecting your boundaries. Do you understand?"

Saga closed her eyes. "Yes."

"You are scared of your father," Viggo repeated.

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Why? How did he mistreat you?"

She felt like throwing up, almost wanted to. How nice wouldn't it be if she could empty herself of everything which lived inside of her? But she couldn't, and neither could she tell Viggo the truth. It was lodged in her throat, spreading shame and guilt.

Unworthy. Useless. Evil.

But she needed to tell him something. A crumble of truth.

"He likes my sister more than me," she said. "He never gave me the opportunities he gave her. And as soon as I did something wrong, he would punish me."

"Punish you how?"

"He would strike my fingers," she answered. Not a lie, but only a grain of the whole truth.

Viggo put an arm around her, and she twisted so her face was buried against him.

"While he is here, I would like Kai to be your personal guard. He would follow you as soon as you leave the bedroom. And under no circumstances would you be allowed to be alone with your father. Is that okay with you?"

Saga nodded, for it was more than okay. The last thing she wanted was to end up alone with her father anyway.