“I am done.” Rena wiggled on the bench, ready to get down and play, bored from her long hour of sitting with her mother and having to behave properly.
I held the spoon out to her. “Before you decide to waste your food, I want you to think about all the villeins, my family included, who are hungry and would love to have this bite.”
Rena, at three, was too young to understand the difficulties. But I took every opportunity I could to inform her and Riki of the true plight, hoping I might instill in them sensitivity and insight into what life was like for many people who served the earl.
Nanna had done the same with all the children in her care over the years, including Gunnar. She claimed that changes began with small steps, and she worked tirelessly to influence the children to live honorably, to look out for the needs of others, to be generous and kind and unselfish.
Though I’d followed her methods, at times I grew impatient and wished for bigger and more practical ways to make a difference.
Yes, our influence over Rena and Riki was important. I didn’t deny that. But we couldn’t stop there. The problem was, I didn’t know how to do more. Perhaps others who’d come before me had also wanted to find ways to change our pitiful circumstances but hadn’t known how either. Maybe even Nanna had once been like me and resigned herself to doing the little she could the best way she knew how.
If only that were enough for me. . . .
As Rena opened up and ate her last bite obediently, Riki swallowed her final mouthful and peered up at me. “You look pretty.”
“Thank you.” I smoothed a hand down her long braid, plaited just like mine.
“Uncle Gunnar will think you look pretty too.”
I paused. How should I respond?
“Last night he said he cannot visit us anymore.” Riki folded her hands in her lap, watching me expectantly. “But if you ask him to, he will listen to you.”
“Uncle Gunnar can’t come,” Nanna cut in from where she stood in front of the hearth sweeping ashes. “He had to go away for a day or two.” She caught my gaze as though to warn me not to say anything about Gunnar going into the forest. As young as the girls were, they knew about the jotunn. They’d overheard their mother conversing about the madman and had been frightened ever since.
At an urgent tapping on the chamber door, I froze. What tidings were upon us now? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
As the door opened a crack, my friend Ami peeked through. While she outwardly appeared composed, her eyes held a warning. “Your sister Kirstin is at the servants’ door. She’s upset and is asking for you.”
Kirstin was here? My pulse picked up speed. She never came any other time except in the mornings. Something must have happened.
Nanna stopped sweeping, a groove forming in her forehead. “Hurry on down to her.”
I nodded and hastened from the room, following Ami as she led the way through passageways and down a series of stairways until we reached the lower level. At the end of the long hallway, Kirstin stood just inside the door, leaning against the wall.
When she saw me, she released a soft sob and ran toward me.
My heartbeat sped even faster. Had something happened to Enok or Father? “What is amiss?” I asked as I opened my arms to her.
She flung herself at me, now openly crying.
Ami, thankfully, ducked out of sight.
I gathered Kirstin closer, my blood running cold at all the possibilities of things that could be wrong. I was desperate to know, almost frantic. But I drew in a calming breath. I was the strong one, the one who had access to resources my family didn’t, the one everyone looked to for answers. I had to remain steadfast now.
“Tell me the news,” I said, stroking her hair.
She huffed and pulled away almost angrily. “You already knew, and you didn’t tell me.”
“Knew what?”
“That Frans went into the forest.” Her face crumpled.
“I found out this morn.”
“You should have sent me word right away of his plans.” Her voice broke. “Instead, I had to find out from Enok just now.”
I could only stare at my younger sister. Although she was more emotional than I was, I couldn’t make sense of this outburst and why she was so upset.
“What difference would it have made if I’d told you earlier or not?”
She sniffled and wiped at her splotchy cheeks. “I would have figured out a way to make Frans stay back.”
“I didn’t know he was going in until he’d already left.” That wasn’t entirely true. He’d mentioned the possibility. And after his witnessing my kiss with Gunnar in the garden, I should have predicted he’d go. “Now Gunnar has gone into the forest to aid him.”
Though my heart quavered at the prospect of Gunnar deep in the woods by now, I had to trust that as one of the strongest and best knights in the land, he could accomplish more than others had been able to do.
“If you cared at all about Frans the way you should, this wouldn’t have happened.” Kirstin’s wobbly voice contained a note of censure I hadn’t heard there before.
The truth of the matter was that she was right. If I had truly cared about Frans, he wouldn’t have left. “He deserves someone better than me.”
“He deserves someone who loves him.” Her tears started flowing again. “Someone like—someone like . . .”
My mind halted its frantic racing, and I stared at Kirstin’s anguished expression. Suddenly I knew why Kirstin came every morn instead of Enok, why she lingered and watched the forge, why she asked about Frans so oft, why she was here at this very moment.
“Frans deserves someone like you, Kirstin. Someone who loves him.” If Gunnar brought back Frans alive, I would spend the rest of my earthly days doing my best to persuade Frans to love Kirstin instead of me. Surely once he was made aware of her adoration, he’d forget about me and let himself love Kirstin instead.
Kirstin sniffled. “You’re not angry with me?”
“Why would I be angry?” I couldn’t be, not when my affection belonged to Gunnar. “You are the better woman for Frans, and I regret I didn’t conclude that sooner.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Kirstin’s voice dropped to an agonized whisper. “He loves you and has no interest in any other woman.”
“He may believe he cares for me, but if—when—I’m able to next speak with him, I’ll inform him that he needs to marry you, that you’ll love and cherish him in a way that I can’t.”
“Truly?” Tears glistened in her eyes.
“Truly.” Even if Gunnar hadn’t made his confessions to me earlier, I realized now I had to let Frans go so that he could have a wife who would be able to give him her whole heart and not just pieces. He deserved that, even if he didn’t yet know it.
“I told myself I would never say anything,” Kirstin whispered. “I told myself I only wanted his happiness. And if marrying you made him happy, then that was what was necessary.”
“Maybe he thought marrying me would fulfill him. But ultimately, he’ll find more satisfaction in being with someone who adores him.”
Kirstin nodded and then peeked at me, as though to gauge whether I meant what I was saying.