“I’m sorry, lass. Truly, I am.”
And he left, without a backward glance. Freya threw herself at the door, hammering on it.
“Da! Da! Please, Da!”
“So ye thought ye could escape me, lass?”
She froze, peering over her shoulder. The previously empty room was empty no longer, with a tall, gray-haired man sitting on a seat by the fireplace. He was half-swathed in shadows, unnaturally silver eyes glinting in the darkness. He leaned forward, revealing a wide smile.
“Just ye and me, then, lassie. I hope ye will last longer than my previous wives. We’ll find out, eh?”
She began to scream.
Freya jerked awake,a scream dying on her lips. Wheezing for breath, she glanced around the room.
Just a dream. Nothing more.
Although, that wasn’t true, was it? Itwasn’tjust a dream. It had really happened. He really had turned his back on her and walked away, leaving her to her fate. He hadn’t helped her then, and he wouldn’t help her now. That was why Freya hadn’t even considered making her way back to Keep McInnes. There was no point. Closing her eyes, she flopped back into the tangled mess of her sweaty sheets, breathing deeply to calm her pounding heart.
Judging by the grayish light flooding into the room, it was shortly before dawn, when the sky was just beginning to lighten before the sunrise. However, there were low voices and shuffling sounds drifting in from outside her room, a sign that the others were already waking up.
On cue, there was a tentative tap on her door.
“Freya?” came Kyla’s muffled voice. “Are ye awake?”
“Aye, I’m awake,” Freya responded.
“Oh, good. Can I come in?”
“Aye.”
The door creaked open and Kyla shuffled in, a pile of folded black cloth in her arms. Behind her, Freya could see the sisters filing past, talking in low voices. On their way to morning prayers, no doubt.
“Breakfast will be served soon,” Kyla explained, fidgeting with her spectacles. “And after, ye can come with me into town to drop off a few charity baskets for some struggling families. How does that sound?”
“Aye, I’d like that,” Freya said, sitting up properly and rubbing her eyes.
“There are washbasins at the end of the corridor with fresh water. It’s warm now, but it cools quickly in a morning, so I suggest ye get a move on fast. Oh, and ye can change into this.”
She laid out the black cloth on the end of the bed, revealing it to be the same sort of smock that all the other sisters wore, as well as the white smock-shirt to go underneath, and a length of rope to tie up the waist. After a moment’s hesitation, Kyla laid out a crumpled piece of white cloth. It took Freya a moment to realize what it was.
“A wimple,” she said, surprised. “But none of ye wear those, only the full sisters.”
Kyla grimaced, shrugging. “Aye, I know, but the Abbess specifically told me to have ye wear it. She said it would be safer. What does she mean by that?”
Freya bit her lip and said nothing. Safer, of course. The wimple would cover Freya’s vibrant red hair, which was generally impossible to miss. Even so, it looked heavy and uncomfortable. Freya wasnotlooking forward to wearing it.
She didn’t answer Kyla’s question, and Kyla didn’t press for an answer.
“Dress as quick as ye can,” she said after a while. “I’ll meet ye in the dining hall. Aye?”
“Aye,” Freya murmured, leaning over to look at the unflattering clothes laid out for her at the end of her bed.
No more silk and satin for me, I suppose.
Breakfast was a rushed affair.The room was fairly nondescript, just a wide stone hallway full of long wooden tables set length ways, and a shorter table set width ways at the top of the hall, for the Abbess and other important sisters to sit.
The sisters ate quickly, obviously keen to get on with the day’s chores. Senga wolfed down her porridge and left the table first, followed quickly by Astrid. It was clear they were surprised by Freya’s wimple, but didn’t question too deeply.
