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Chapter 28
Jonet could hear her heart pounding in her ears. The world seemed to slow to a halt as she took in the arrow directed at her. Sweat ran slowly down the back of her neck as she dared to swallow past her dry throat, trying to find her voice.
“Daenae bother sayin’ anythin’,” Freya snapped. “I daenae want to hear it. It’s me time to talk.”
Jonet nodded jerkily. She chanced taking a step closer to her and froze when Freya only positioned herself straighter. It would only take the slightest move for that arrow to embed itself in Jonet’s heart. She could not take any more risks.
She felt tears burning the back of her throat, but she struggled to keep herself together. It did not make sense to her. Even as she stared at the proof, as that proof was aimed at her heart, Jonet could not believe that this was happening. She was praying for an excuse, for some explanation that would somehow alleviate Freya of all responsibility.
“Alright,” she rasped. “Ye can tell me everythin’. Did… did someone make ye do this?”
Freya only stared at her for a few moments, and then a slow derisive grin stretched across her face. Jonet could not believe this was the same person who had dried her tears and helped her out of bed when she had been too distraught to do anything herself. The same person who had come to check on her throughout the day and had nursed her back to health when her crying had brought on a cold. That same Freya she had always struggled to learn more about was plain as day now, that grin a window into her soul.
Jonet did not like what she saw, and she knew she would not like what she was about to hear.
“Ye really daenae ken me, do ye?” Freya tilted her head to the side. “I suppose that is me fault, though. I was simply too good at actin’. And ye were too dumb to realize what was right under yer nose all along.”
Jonet let out a sob without warning. She refused to cry right now and tried valiantly to pull the tears back, but she knew she would die here. She knew that she could not possibly dodge that arrow. At least, she hoped she would have all the answers she wanted before she sank lifelessly to the bottom of the loch.
“Why?” she rasped. “Why would ye do all this?”
“Because I had to!” Freya’s eyes were wide and wild. The wind had attacked them both during their ride to the loch and Freya’s hair was blowing madly from her braid, whipping at her face. She did not seem to notice. “Ye daenae ken how me life has been for the past six years, Jonet. Ye cannae begin to understand.”
“Please. Please let me understand. I daenae ken what I did to deserve all this. I thought we were friends, Freya.”
“Of course, ye thought that.” Freya snorted. “Let me ask ye a question, Jonet. Are ye friends with Jonathan?”
Jonathan? What could he possibly have to do with all this?
“Aye, we are.”
“Ye are, are ye? Do ye ken that he is the youngest of six brothers and four sisters? That he shows more potential as a war chieftain than the last one did considering his growth in so little years? Do ye ken that he cannae eat anything with wheat in it and it troubles him so because he loves cakes? Do ye even ken anythin’ about him?”
Jonet opened her mouth to respond, but she did not know what to say.
Freya would not even give her a chance. Her hands stayed steady and true even as her voice rose to heights Jonet had never even thought possible for her. The composed woman she had known was no longer present.
“Ye cannae possibly ken that he trains from dusk to dawn at least three times within a week and still manages to keep up with Dougal during their trainings together. Or that when the sun hits his eyes, they sometimes look greener than they do brown. And that he isnae nearly as quiet as ye would think he is, but prefers to watch all that’s happenin’ around him instead? If ye were truly his friend, if ye truly cared about him in the slightest, then ye would ken this much.”
Oh. Oh!
Jonet only stared at her. Freya’s eyes were wide, filled with anger, her words echoing around her.
Jonet waited a few beats before she said, “Ye are in love with him.”
“Ye daenae deserve him.” Freya tightened her lips, and her eyes narrowed. “Ye wouldnae care for him and treasure him the way I have. I’ve spent years lookin’ out for him in ways that ye cannae believe and what do I get in return? Cast aside as if I’m nothin’.”
“Ye arenae nothin’, Freya,” Jonet said desperately. It felt as if all her senses were becoming too much. The sun was too hot, her tongue too dry, the wind too cold, the roaring in her ears much too loud. Her fear too tangible. Jonet focused on Freya, knowing that if she had any chance of getting out of this alive, it would be through her words. “Ye are beautiful,” Jonet spoke softly. “Ye are so, so smart and intuitive and ye may nae ken this but ye’ve always given me the best advice. While ye’ve been by me side, I’ve cherished havin’ someone as strong and as reliable as ye are and Jonathan is a fool if he cannae see that. But… but ye can make him see it, if ye want to.”
“Ye daenae think I’ve tried?” Freya shouted, making Jonet recoil. “I’ve done all that I can for him, and I’ve received nothing. While ye have it all!”
“What are ye—”
“Ye daenae ken, do ye?” Freya laughed. Jonet held her breath. Watching her become more and more unstable was like watching any chances of her leaving the loch alive slip away. “Of course, ye daenae. Ye’ve been so caught up in yer own life that ye cannae see what is right before ye.”
“What are ye talkin’ about?” Jonet did not dare to say it, would not believe that it was true.
Freya only laughed, a harsh sound that was devoid of all humor. “For so many years I’ve pined for one man and he’s been pinin’ for a woman who hasnae even glanced in his direction.”
