Her father’s attendant came to fetch her. The look he shot Aslan was rather rude.

Word of Freya coming and going from the hostage’s estate must have reached her father’s ears.

“I should be going.”

Aslan saw her off as she followed the attendant out. She stepped down one stair and a small voice reached her from behind.

“When will I be able to see you next?”

Freya looked back at Aslan. This time, the words didn’t come easily.

Would they be able to meet again? Her father sending an attendant might mean he wasn’t pleased about her meetings with Aslan.

‘He might have finally found the bold and generous warrior he was always going on about.’

So she couldn’t plant false hope in Aslan. This might be her last visit.

“Why do you ask?”

“……I thought I should prepare to receive a guest properly. That’s the custom in Ingrone.”

Freya narrowed her eyes. Her lips worked in a sulky pout, full of displeasure.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come again.”

What was bothering her now? Aslan furrowed his brow and smiled faintly.

“Then I’ll have to keep preparing every day.”

What? Freya bit her lower lip.

His easy, generous smile in the face of her curtness left a strange tickle in her chest.

“Was I a bother to you, Prince? Coming here like this?”

Aslan’s eyes went slightly wide. His expression said, how did you know?

The unexpected reaction turned the tickle in her chest into a stone in an instant.

The stone pressed down heavily. Her mood soured on its own.

“Forget it. Don’t go to the trouble. I might not be able to come anymore.”

“……Is something the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter.”

She was rolling her eyes trying to come up with a proper reason when the attendant called for her.

“Miss. You should go now.”

He hurried her along, and the look he gave Aslan was far from kind.

Freya left what might be her last farewell for Aslan.

“Contrary to what you’ve seen of me, I’m not all that free either. Children of distinguished parents are all the same, aren’t they? Stepping beyond a parent’s boundaries is harder than plucking a star from the sky.”

Aslan, made a sacrifice for a weaker kingdom because of his father’s position as king, would understand her words better than anyone.

“So don’t wait for me.”

“……”

His expression darkened in an instant.

‘He must be disappointed. Of course he is. I’m probably the only friend he’s made in all of Vaigon.’

Freya went down the stairs, leaving his disappointment behind. A vague unease settled in her chest.

‘It bothers me.’

She looked back at the estate as she left the front yard.

Maybe it was the thick leaves of the trees blocking the view. A large shadow seemed to fall over the estate.

The estate, with no sign of life in it, looked lonely.

‘He must be lonely with no one to lean on. Lonely enough to be glad to see me even when I’m rude.’

Life as a hostage couldn’t be easy. That must be why he kept reaching out every time she left.

Walking on, Freya tilted her head.

‘Maybe I should have been a little kinder.’

Her mouth felt stale.

***

“What’s wrong with me meeting the prince of Ingrone? Haakon gave the order to treat Prince Aslan as a guest.”

Freya’s eyebrows shot up as she pressed her case. Bjorn pressed a hand to his forehead with a tired look and shook his head.

The rebuttal came from Ulfgar, who sat beside her father with his arms crossed.

“Think of Bjorn’s honor. There are rumors going around that you’re fooling around with the Ingrone hostage.”

Ulfgar’s influence on Freya’s defiance was considerable.

Ulfgar was the one who reported to her father that she had been meeting Aslan.

He was not her family, not her husband. What right did he have to interfere with her actions?

If her father had been the only one in the room, she wouldn’t have raised her voice like this.

“Why is that any of your concern? And do you really think my father’s honor can be tarnished by some rumor?”

“Ahem. I’m saying it because I’m worried about you. As an old friend.”

“Old friend?”

Freya’s face went blotchy.

“We’ve known each other for ten years. That makes us old friends.”

“Spend that time looking after your bride instead.”

“Helga is mature and well-mannered, unlike you. She doesn’t give me things to worry about.”

Freya opened and closed her mouth in disbelief. She turned to her father, silently demanding to know why he was letting Ulfgar overstep like this.

“Father, why am I being spoken to like this by Ulfgar?”

Bjorn’s long sigh deepened.

“It’s true that people are talking. I don’t want my daughter to become the subject of gossip.”

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t do anything to damage your honor.”

Freya pushed up from her seat. Ulfgar added more without reading the room, and it turned her stomach.

“Chasing after a weak and pathetic Ingrone man. Have you no shame, fooling around with a hostage like that?”

“Shut up. It’s none of your business.”

Her mood thoroughly ruined, Freya glared at Ulfgar and walked out of the room.

She left the fortress in a foul temper, and a frustrated sigh escaped her. She was worried about what Ulfgar would whisper into her father’s ear.

He would find some plausible-sounding excuse to make her behavior look like a problem.

Her father wasn’t the type to be swayed by others, but the fact that he summoned her made it clear he was bothered.

Her father was the kind of man who let her sail on ships and wanted her to live boldly and freely, but people talking was a different matter.

People’s interest was predictable.

‘They’re probably all dying to know whether the supposedly arrogant Prince Aslan rejected me or not.’

An inexplicable defiance simmered inside her. Ulfgar needling her pride, and the people gossiping about her on top of it.

‘If I stop going now, won’t rumors spread that Aslan rejected me?’

Whatever Aslan’s actual personality was, people would judge it however suited them.

More than anything, she wanted to knock Ulfgar down a peg. He was the one who manipulated her father.

Freya’s expression hardened with resolve. She looked like she made up her mind.

‘A Vaigon woman’s pride must be protected. And that is exactly how I protect my father’s honor.’

Any goodwill she felt about protecting the heart of an innocent Ingrone man vanished without a trace.

Petty sympathy had no place when it came to protecting her pride.

***

“How does this look? Is it too revealing?”

Freya studied her reflection in the bronze mirror with a slight frown. The maidservants applying thyme oil to her hair laughed softly.

“You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Like a goddess of the sea.”

The maidservants’ eyes sparkled, saying this must mean she finally had a change of heart after grumbling that the prince was too dull to hold her interest.

Freya raised one finger to her lips.

“Don’t go running your mouths anywhere. Nothing is certain yet.”

Getting too excited and ending up embarrassed was a real possibility. She made sure the maidservants kept quiet.

‘Then again, no matter how rudely I act, he always sees me off with that sorry-to-see-you-go expression every time I leave. And he asks every single time when he’ll see me next.’

Freya couldn’t hold back a laugh and shook her head, her chest full of the maidservants’ giddy energy.

Being beautiful was a sin.

‘Oh, this sinful woman.’

He was just too shy to show it. He must have felt something for her, at the very least.

‘I tried not to hurt him if I could help it, but there’s nothing to be done.’

The situation was pushing her forward. She had no choice.

A boat riding the waves couldn’t fight the wind. Unless you rowed hard against it, you drifted wherever the wind carried you.

That she was the one blowing the wind was something her self-assured self had no way of knowing.