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Hell, I didn’t even look like the rogue traveler woman who had tried to kill the Night King and then spent a couple of months in his dungeon as punishment.
I didn’t look like me.
Instead, I looked like a queen.
My eyes began to sting, and then water.
I wasn’t sure why, but I tried to stop the tears, and couldn’t.
So, I accepted them.
And ignored them.
But still, I stood in that bathroom for much longer than I’d like to admit, just staring at myself.
I felt like my life was changing yet again. Maybe even like my entire world was changing again.
And I wasn’t sure whether to love that feeling, to hate that feeling, or just to embrace it and forget everything else.
But then my mind brought me the smell of the fire that had engulfed my home.
The screams of my mother.
My stomach turned, and I tried desperately hard not to spin to the toilet and lose the contents of it.
Forgetting wasn’t an option.
I could love feeling like a queen for however long I had that privilege, but sooner or later, I was going to figure out a way to kill Espen.
And when that happened, I was going to die with him.
Chapter7
Eventually,someone knocked on the door and I had to make my way out of the bathroom. I knew I’d probably stared at myself for too long anyway—that was kind of an odd thing to do.
But I felt like it might’ve been needed, after so many big changes and so many years of suffering. I’d lost whatever sense of self I’d once possessed, assuming I had ever possessed any.
And now, I wanted to find it.
Or rather, I supposed I needed to find it. My will to continue living was waning quickly. I felt… lost.
So I’d have to change things, alter my feelings and my life, if I wanted the motivation to make it to that day where I figured out how to kill Espen.
I worried a bit that my dress would trip me as I walked, and watched its hem once again, but it practically floated around me. The material was most definitely a luxury—one I was realizing that I absolutely loved.
When I tugged my door open, I wasn’t surprised to see Espen outside.
I was surprised to see his arms loaded with bags of things. I didn’t know what the things were, and didn’t want to let him in my room again either.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“Decorating my guest’s room.” He sidestepped into the room quickly enough that I couldn’t block him.
I felt my magic stir as I spun around to glare at him, and knew without looking that my damned hair would be glowing.
At least it was short, I supposed, so I’d look like a lightbulb of some sort instead of a woman draped in glowing hair.
Espen set a huge, heavy-looking bag on the ground before walking quickly around the room. Everywhere he went, new luxury items were placed. Blankets, pillows, candles, potted plants. He even put a thick notebook and a pair of pens down on the nightstand beside the bed.
