“My father is busy now, but you can expect a summons during the day. I have my eye on you, you dishonorable runt.”
She storms out, slamming the door behind her. All the girls stand for a few seconds as Thyra’s stomping becomes distant.
I glance around me. The girls are looking at me wide-eyed. One blows out a stream of air. Tension loosens.
“Odin’s ass,” says Sifrid.
I feel Ausveig’s hand on my shoulder and turn to her. She has a comforting grin on her face. My fear of being hated and humiliated dissipates somewhat. My stomach unclenches ever so slightly.
“Well,” she says. “Eidunn was right. I won’t get to eat you alive, but maybe I can smoke you with birch after Thyra has butchered you.”
All the girls laugh nervously. Me included. I may yet receive punishment. Lucky for me, it’s up to the jarl, not his daughter. My hands are shaking, but I manage to calm myself somewhat with a couple of deep breaths. What would Ari say? That dishonorable bastard. As if he’d stick out his neck for me.
We sit to finish our meal. Eidunn gives me a gentle smile. Thyra hates me, but around the thralls’ table, I have allies. I have friends.
CHAPTER 19
We’ve spent the morning tending the orchard. Beautiful trees—some in full bloom—needed trimming, weeding, and composting. Spreading dried shit with my hands around tree trunks wasn’t the most glorious task, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Standing in the blazing sun with the others, listening to Ausveig teach plant care, hardly felt like work.
Having learned about plums, cherries, apples, and pears, I now have to scrub floors, walls, benches, and tables.
I dip the dirty cloth in the bucket, squeezing it in an attempt to remove dirt. It’s just me and Eidunn in the room. Ausveig and the others have moved on to other buildings, leaving us to finish off the hall.
Eidunn is humming some song. I don’t know the melody. She seems to be in a better mood than usual. A good opportunity to bond.
“What song is that?” I say cheerfully.
She raises her eyes, surprised, like she hadn’t been aware that she had been singing a tune.
“You wouldn’t know it. It’s local to where I was born.”
“Oh? Where were you born?”
“Down south, beyond Dovre Mountain.”
“That’s where my folk stayed most of the time. We were travelers.”
“I know,” she says, resuming her work.
Of course, she knows…
Refusing to give up on my attempt to get to know Eidunn better, I slap the washcloth in the bucket and go to sit on the bench next to where she is scrubbing the floor. She huffs and graces me with an annoyed glare.
“So, where were you born?” I ask again. “Maybe I’ve traded there.”
“Don’t you mean stolen there?”
Her aggression catches me off guard, but I’m not backing down. I keep my tone playful, hoping she will open up and share whatever is weighing her down.
“Fair enough,” I say. “Possibly stolen there. I’m not proud of it now. Sometimes we do what we must to survive.”
Eidunn sighs, tossing her washcloth in the bucket in protest to my questions. She sits on the bench next to me.
“It’s by the ocean, way south. Tell me, Kilda, why do you pretend to care?”
“Pretend?”
“Pretend,” she says curtly. “You think I don’t notice your little plays? Trying to gain folk’s trust?”
