Chapter Nineteen

I followed after him, a sense of dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

He led me back into our room and shut the door. I inhaled.

“Things went rough with your mother, right?” He asked, this question I did not expect.

“She doesn’t like you very much.”

“That’s understandable,” he says. “You know, you did well today—with my father, I mean.”

“I did?”

“Yes. Though I didn’t miss the fact that you had again disobeyed me, You took off the clothes—was it because of your mother?”

“Yes... No. I couldn’t walk around looking like a whore.”

He walked closer, and it took everything in me to stand still. His fingers traced the fabric of the brown gown I had chosen—without asking for permission, of course.

“You liked being well covered?” He asked

“Yes”

“Just like my mother, Freya?”

I think my heart skipped a bit right there. I remembered the scars all over her body, they had been the reason she left no skin uncovered.

"How could you allow that to happen to her?" I asked, despite myself.