The tension within the cottage had become unbearable.

Elka barely slept anymore. Every night, she lay awake listening for footsteps outside, her hand resting near the knife she now kept within constant reach. The lack of sleep was taking its toll. During the day, she moved through the cottage like a ghost, restless, exhausted, and sharp-tempered. Dark circles had begun to form beneath her eyes, and even the smallest inconveniences grated on her nerves. She had not touched her embroidery in days. The half-finished handkerchief still sat on the table where she had abandoned it, the needle stuck in the exact same place, untouched and forgotten.

Mara was bearing the worst of her mood.

Elka knew she was being unfair, but the constant fear had worn her patience raw. Every knock at the door made her tense. Every unfamiliar sound outside sent her heart racing. The strain of living under a constant threat had left her irritable and withdrawn.

When Mara placed a bowl of stew in front of her that afternoon and gently urged her to eat, Elka pushed it away.

"I’m not hungry," she muttered.

"You haven’t eaten properly in three days," Mara replied, her voice tired but kind. "You’re letting them win without them even being here."

The words hit Elka harder than she expected.

She looked away, shame burning in her chest. Mara did not deserve her temper or foul moods, all she had done lately was treat her with tenderness.

Elka wanted to apologize, but the words refused to come. Instead, she stood and walked to the other side of the room, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

In her mind, the same thoughts kept circling endlessly.

How much longer can I live like this? 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

How long before someone in town starts asking questions about the strange people who keep coming to my door? And when the questions start coming, how would she even answer them?

Just the thought of it was nerve-racking, and coupled with everything else that had been happening, she felt utterly overwhelmed. So overwhelmed, in fact, that only days earlier she had sat at her writing desk with a quill in hand and a blank sheet of parchment before her, and written a letter to Ragnar informing him of her predicament.

Ordinarily, she would never have allowed things to reach this point, but she feared where the situation was heading if her parents continued their behavior and if her father grew even more violent toward her. With each passing day, she woke feeling as though control was slipping through her fingers, little by little, and above all else, she hated feeling powerless.

She hated that her father still believed she was the same frightened girl who had been too weak to stop his abuse. She was no longer that girl.

Her parents had changed their strategy. They no longer came together. Instead, they began appearing separately at unpredictable times, sometimes twice in a single day, sometimes not at all for several days. Their visits had become shorter and more vicious, designed not to persuade her but to keep her constantly on edge.

One morning, her father came alone.

He did not even ask to come in.

He simply stood outside and pounded on the door with his fist, each blow making the wood shudder within its frame. His voice carried across the hillside, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

"I know you’re in there!" he shouted. "How long do you think you can hide, girl? The longer you refuse us, the worse it will be for you!"

Elka had pressed herself against the far wall, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. She remained frozen there, scarcely daring to breathe, until his heavy footsteps finally retreated down the path.

Only then did she slide down to the floor.

She sat there with her knees drawn tightly to her chest, breathing hard as the adrenaline slowly drained from her body.

Her mother’s visits were calmer and less rage-filled, but still cruel in some ways they cut far deeper.

Laena always arrived carrying fresh pieces of information. Rumors about the king’s investigations. Names of corrupt nobles who had already been arrested. Stories about what supposedly happened to those who refused to cooperate. Whether the tales were true or exaggerated hardly mattered. Each visit left new fears planted in Elka’s mind, fears that lingered long after her mother had gone.

"You look awful," her mother had said. "All this defiance is destroying you. Is your pride really worth this misery?"

Elka stood rigid, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"Get out."

Laena ignored her.

"We are running out of time. The king’s men are getting closer to finding us. If you would simply speak to Ragnar on our behalf, this could all be over. One conversation. That is all we ask."

"I already gave you my answer," Elka said through clenched teeth.

Her mother’s eyes hardened.

"You are being selfish, Elka. We gave you everything. A name, good marriage prospects, a future. And now you would watch us suffer rather than lift a finger to help us?"

The words stung more than Elka cared to admit. Not because she somehow empathized with her mother, but because of how clearly she could see her mother’s manipulations.

The final blow came the very next day, on a windy afternoon.

Elka was outside her cottage, tending to her garden, when she spotted her father striding up the path alone. Something about the way he moved made her stomach drop. There was no hesitation in his steps, no uncertainty. Only anger.

Dread raced down her spine. She abandoned her work and hurried toward the cottage, darting inside and reaching for the bolt. But she wasn’t fast enough.

The moment she crossed the threshold, her father quickened his pace. As she swung the door shut, he slammed his shoulder against it, forcing it back open before she could secure it. Elka fought to keep the door closed, but he easily overpowered her. The struggle lasted only seconds.

The door burst inward under the force of his shove. His face was dark with fury, and Elka stumbled backward to avoid being struck as the heavy wooden door flew open.

"If you refuse to help us," he said the moment he stepped inside, "we will make sure that you are not spared either. If we go down, we will drag you down with us. We will make it very clear to everyone that you are just as guilty as we are. I will take great pleasure in seeing you utterly ruined. That is what a selfish, ungrateful wench like you deserves."

Her parents had grown incredibly desperate when they realized that harassment and intimidation alone would not break her.

There was a madness deep within him, reflected in his eyes whenever she looked at him.

Elka felt the floor tilt beneath her.

"You wouldn’t," she whispered.

"We are already ruined," her father replied coldly. "If we fall, we will make sure you fall with us. Your precious new king will have no choice but to arrest you as well. Everything will be taken from you. And when they drag you back to the capital in chains, you will finally understand what it means to defy your family."

For the first time, Elka saw the full depth of their desperation.

They were no longer pleading for help. They were no longer trying to reason with her. They were threatening to destroy her completely.

They were cornered animals, driven by fear and self-preservation, willing to drag their own child into ruin if it meant saving themselves.

The cottage felt strangely silent after his departure. Even the wind outside seemed distant. Her thoughts were a tangled knot of fear, anger, and disbelief.