The birthday banquet was uneventful. Kai, Audun, Astrid, and Kare all stood to the side, silent sentinels watching over Saga and Viggo. There were eight Fyris knights in the room as well, guarding the Duke and Embla. Saga reflected on that though the Fyris knights outnumbered the Sinkbek knights, she held no doubt that the Sinkbek knights outmatched the Fyris knights.

During the dinner, her father asked several questions regarding the food and the room. What kind of fish was it? What glass were the windows made of? Where the wine had been made?

Though Saga kept her head down for most of it, from the tone of his voice and the glimpses of his eyes she caught, she knew those questions really were insults. That he asked about everything which he felt wasn't up to standard. Which seemed to be everything. All the work and effort she had put into it all, dismissed and ridiculed with every question of his.

Her eyes burnt by the time it was over, and she had no energy left for anything other than falling into bed.

Viggo helped her get out of the extravagant dress, then allowed her inside his arms to fall asleep.

But she was not allowed to rest. Her dreams seemed to know she had not thought of her mother, had not honoured her memories as normal, for it was about her Saga dreamt. About her sixth birthday.

It was toward the end of the evening. The dinner had already been, a dinner during which Saga had sat quietly by her mother's side while her father had been more interested in entertaining a woman he had invited to sing during the dinner.

The sounds of the banquet hall faded as Saga walked through the corridors, holding her mother's hand. The candles along the walls flickered as they passed.

The soft sound of a child's pitter-patter against the floor echoed behind them. Turning, Saga saw her sister's golden locks bounce around her as she ran after Saga and their mother, closely followed by a maid with her blonde hair unravelling from the tight bun.

"Go with Saga and mother!" Embla announced as she reached them, grabbing Saga's hand.

"I'm sorry, Duchess!" the maid exclaimed and pulled Embla away from Saga and their mother. "I didn't notice she saw you leave."

"That's quite alright," the mother answered the maid, then looked to Saga. "Come now, Saga."

Without another word, her mother continued to lead Saga through the corridor. Behind them, Embla cried about wanting to play with Saga while the maid tried to placate her.

Eventually, the sounds of her sister disappeared. They had reached the far end of the castle, the coldest part of it. Together they stepped into Saga's bedroom. The one she had had before her mother's death. Though located in the coldest part of the castle, it was warm with carpets on the floor and a bed full of fluffy pillows.

As soon as the door closed on them, Saga's mother bent down and pulled her into her embrace.

"Please remember it was never your fault," her mother whispered to her. When she let go, Saga could see tears on the verge of breaking free from her mother's eyes. "You are my perfect daughter. And it was never your fault."

Then her mother let go of her. She straightened herself and turned to face the door, taking a sword from a table as the door burst open.

Saga sat up in bed in her and Viggo's room. Her heart beat like galloping hooves, dread swam in her, and she was glad to have woken up. Glad she had not been forced to watch as she killed her mother.

"Saga?" Viggo said from next to her. Looking at him, she saw he had drawn a knife, which he lowered after scanning her. "A nightmare?"

She nodded.

"Want to tell me what it was about?"

She shook her head.

He put away the knife completely and opened his arms for her. She returned to his embrace.

"Nightmares can't hurt you," he whispered to her.

"It feels like they can," she confessed.

"They can't. And besides, I'll always protect you."

Saga shook her head again, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please don't. Not if it would mean risk to your life," she said, for though she had been the one to kill her mother, she also knew her mother wouldn't have ever died had she not tried to protect Saga.

"But I would gladly die for you."

Pulling herself away from him, she stared at him with emotions roaring inside her. "Don't say that! Don't think that! Please!"

"But I would, Saga," he said, placing a hand on her cheek. "That's how much you matter."

"But I don't want that! I don't want to be responsible for your death."

A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. "You wouldn't be. If it were to happen, it would have been my choice, and therefore, my responsibility."

But Saga knew it wasn't true. Just like the words her mother had spoken to her were a lie. It had been her fault her mother had died, and if something happened to Viggo while he protected her, it would be her fault as well.

She didn't voice those thoughts, though. She knew Viggo would just argue against her.

"There's still some time until morning," Viggo changed the topic after having cast a glance out the window. "We should try to rest some more."

Saga nodded and let him pull her into a sleeping position again. Her mind couldn't find any rest, however. She closed her eyes and tried. Tried to listen to the rhythm of his breaths to let them lull her to sleep. But it was impossible. Her worry burned too strongly.

"I've blamed myself for my mother's death for a long time," Viggo said, though it took Saga time to understand he had talked about himself. The words mirrored her own emotions too much. "Still do, really. Though I can logically understand it wasn't my fault, it is harder to convince my heart of it. So I understand why you would blame yourself if something happened to me while protecting you. But it would never be your fault."

"What happened to your mother?" Saga asked, her voice low, careful, afraid of overstepping and breaking whatever had urged Viggo to confide in her.

"My father beat her to death, and I wasn't there to stop him."

Saga shuddered at the thought, at how horrible it had to have been for Viggo. Moving around a bit in his arms, she placed a hand to his cheek, feeling his stubble underneath her palm.

"Your father is to blame then. Not you," she said, holding his gaze.

He smiled at her, though his eyes swam with sadness. "If I had been there, I could have prevented it."

"Or you would have got hurt or worse. I'm sure your mother wouldn't have wanted that."

Viggo's eyes continued to swim in sadness and pain, something which squeezed Saga's heart. She wanted to comfort him, take that sadness and pain away. But she hadn't ever comforted another, had no idea what to say. So she mirrored what Viggo did when he comforted her. She moved her head up and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

When she moved away again, the sadness and pain were gone from his eyes. Instead, they were wide as he stared at her, as his smile grew.

"If you ever wonder why I'm willing to protect you with my life, then this is why," he told her, holding her in a close embrace again.

Saga did not fall back asleep. She spent the time listening to Viggo's breaths and did everything to avoid thinking about her mother or that she would be confined to a carriage with her father.

When the hour was decent, they rose and dressed for their journey; Viggo in armour, Saga in one of her more comfortable dresses. Viggo ate faster than she did and left to see all was in order. Saga ate her breakfast slowly. The food landed heavily in her stomach, creating knots and stones.

When she was ready to give up, only having managed half of the food, a knock sounded, and in came Erna.

"I simply want to wish you safe travels, Lady Saga," the woman said and stepped forward. She smiled, but it was the kind of smile you offered as encouragement before sending someone into danger. "I packed a few dresses and jewellery for you. It's already with the rest of the packing. I included the Lady's pants and shirts as well, as I thought you might want them. In case."

Saga's body warmed, and the nausea the food had caused ebbed. "Thank you," Saga said and stood to walk over. When she reached the older woman, Erna grasped her hands.

"Make sure you eat well while you are away," Erna said and squeezed Saga's hands.

"I will."

Erna's eyes flickered away from Saga as the woman took a deep breath. "And from what I've heard, you would prefer to follow the Lord into battle. I wish you won't because I'll worry. But if you do, then please keep yourself safe."

More warmth spread in Saga while her eyes prickled. "I promise," she nodded.

Erna still smiled in the same way. If anything, the worry increased. Before Saga knew it, the woman had pulled her in for a hug.

"We will all await your return," Erna whispered before pulling away, before giving Saga one last smile as she exited the bedroom.

Saga dried her eyes while looking around the bedroom. She wondered how long it would be before she saw it again. How much would have changed before she returned home?

If she returned home, a part of her mind whispered, but she pushed those thoughts away. Refused to even consider she, or anyone else, wouldn't.

Viggo returned to escort her when it was time to leave.

"Are you ready?" he asked, extending his hand to her. She answered by taking hold of it.

Outside the room, both Kai and Audun stood.

"They left to wait in the carriage not long ago," Audun said, and Saga gave a curt nod.

"I will have to ride at the front. But Audun and Kai will be near the carriage," Viggo told her, and Saga gave another nod. "And Hrafen will be in the carriage with you," Viggo reminded as they walked, though she wasn't sure if it was for her or his benefit he reminded her. "But if there is anything anyway, let me know."

She squeezed the hand of his she held, the only reassurance she could muster up to give.

Outside the carriage stood in the centre with both knights of Sinkbek and Fyris waiting around; some already on their horses, some standing by them, and some carrying the last of their supplies which needed packing. The morning sun peeked through white clouds, but in the distance, Saga saw the sky was darker.

"I'll need to oversee the packing," Viggo said while steering her to the carriage. Each step felt as if Saga descended further down a grave. "But all will be fine."

Again, Saga wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself, though if it was her the reassurance was aimed at, it didn't work in the slightest. Her breakfast wanted out of her body as she took the steps up to the carriage, and she had to swallow again and again. But as she sat down, the coldness in the carriage froze everything in her. Locked all her muscles into a position she was used to. Her head bent, her hands lying flat on her legs.

"You've grown brazen," her father said from where he sat diagonally opposite Saga and with Embla next to him. "And you've forgotten your place. What kind of business do you think you have in the capital?"

Saga kept her head down, not answering the question because she knew there was no right answer.

Pain coursed through her body as her father's cane made contact with her leg. It wasn't bad, though. The pain only lasted a moment before becoming a dull ache. But tears formed in her eyes, for even there, even when surrounded by people who cared about her, her father only needed a thin wall separating them to beat her soul.

"You speak when spoken to," her father snapped. "Not that anything good has ever come out of your mouth. But you better try to behave like a proper lady while in the capital. The King has finally agreed to a marriage. We only have to wait for Embla to come of age. I will not have you destroying it."

He flicked the cane, so it hit against her leg again. Saga closed her eyes to hold back the whimper wanting to escape. When she opened them, she dared to look up a bit, dared to cast a glance at her sister.

Embla sat with her back straight, her hands flat on her lap like Saga's were. Her head was held high, though averted. Embla's eyes stared out the carriage window, her expression impassive.

"And you..." her father started speaking again, but the words died.

Saga looked at the entrance to see Hrafen climb inside. A sigh left her as his turquoise eyes met hers. He took the seat next to her without saying a word of greeting to her father or sister.

"My apologies for not congratulating you on your birthday yesterday, Lady Saga," he told her. "I considered it, but had more important things to occupy my time with."

"That is alright," she smiled at him. How she had missed his bluntness.

"Did the Lady enjoy her birthday? Such a treat for her to have her family visiting. I assume she received some wonderful gifts," Hrafen went on, and her father stiffened while Embla turned her eyes away from the window to instead stare at Hrafen.

"The only gift I received was from the Lord," Saga answered truthfully.

"Is that so?" Hrafen said with a glance at her father, whose face had begun turning red. "How peculiar."

Without another word, Hrafen took a book from the satchel he carried and opened it, settling down to read as though he could not feel the uncomfortable atmosphere his words had caused. Though Saga thought she saw his lips fighting a smile.

Saga leaned back, her head no longer bent, as she thought the trip would not be so bad.