When the Mad Emperor Suddenly Becomes Sweet

22

“It’s quite cold here in the north,” Freya said as she shivered. She’d grown up in the south and wasn’t used to this biting wind.

Night-fall soon came, and people returned quickly to their places of comfort. Freya wondered if there was a place to stay for an errand person like her. But it seemed a bit too late to look for somewhere to go, and she scanned her surroundings. Everyone who met their eyes with her would soon return to their places, and she felt a hint of jealousy. I might die if I sleep outside.

Freya looked up to the sky in despair and felt that it was extremely dark and low here. The stars shone bright, and she thought she could touch them if she stretched out her hands. And as she gazed at the heavens, a shooting star, with a long tail, shot across the night sky. Following its magical trail, her gaze suddenly fell on a familiar face.

“I recognize him,” Freya muttered to herself. The man who came out of a tent stretching was her benefactor and the only person she knew here. “Excuse-” But Freya stopped herself before finishing her sentence. I can’t be a burden to him again. So she went around the tent instead and casually sat down.

The man was the strangest person she’d met in her life, but he also gave her the most trustworthy vibe.

“I see a pillow is ready here,” Freya sarcastically said as she rested her head on a pile of firewood near the tent. She could already feel the cold of the ground where she’d laid down.

While lying alone in the darkness, sad thoughts started to creep into her mind, so she purposely said in a cheerful voice, “It’s okay. It’s not any different from the orphanage anyway.”

Freya tried her best to stay awake, but it was difficult to stop feeling fatigued after the day’s events. As her eyes began to close, she was startled by the sound of someone’s footsteps.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Isn’t it cold? Do you want to come to my tent and play?” Said a drunk man as he swerved and stumbled toward her. The stranger had no inhibitions in his drunken state, and he openly hit on Freya.

“I’m okay,” she replied, feeling shaken by his advances.

“Wow, even your voice is my type,” the man slurred.

Freya frantically searched inside of her clothes, but she couldn’t find her pair of scissors. Where did it go? She knew she wouldn’t have the guts to swing the scissors, but Freya felt comforted knowing she had one. Not having it now made her feel vulnerable, and she feared that terrible things would happen to her. Freya had run away from Shiloh to escape this type of situation and felt frustrated that she was facing similar advances from a man here.

“I said come here!” The man approached Freya as if to hug her, and she covered her face with her hands. But nothing happened.

She peeked through her hands and saw the drunk man, who was threatening her, rolling on the floor. Freya’s surprised eyes looked up at her savior, and she remembered his face.

“Anton, get lost!” Archer shouted.

“Damn it, Archer!” The drunk immediately ran away, almost tripping over his feet as the owner of the tent, Archer, showed up. When the commotion died down, the man coughed a dry cough.

Freya and Archer both had awkward expressions on their faces, as it hadn’t even been half a day since saying goodbye to each other, and this was an unintended encounter.

After scratching the back of his head, Archer looked down at Freya and asked, “So, what are you doing here?”

Freya hesitated as she was still reeling from the shock of seeing the drunk man. “Oh, I, did you take my pair of scissors?” That was the only thing Freya could say while trembling like a leaf.

Archer nodded and gestured to her to come in as he opened the flap of the tent, “Ah, yes, I do have that. Come inside.”

The inside of the tent wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t comparable to the outside. Freya’s cheeks tingled at the warmth. After poking the little fire pit in the middle, Archer murmured, “How did you end up near my tent?’

“Um, that is, um.” She was lost for words as she shivered in the doorway.

The man then told her to come closer, “Warm up first. You look frozen.”

Freya immediately sat down near the fire pit and warmed her hands. The silence between the two of them lasted a long time and, it was only the crackling of the fire that she could hear. Then Archer spoke, “Don’t you have anywhere else to go?” He had never married and never raised a child because he was out on the battlefields, so he didn’t know how to say things nicely.

Hearing Archer’s harsh words, she spoke hesitantly, “No.” She didn’t want someone’s pity. But she was in a desperate situation, so she had to grab onto anything. “So, would it be okay if I stay here for a while?” Her pleading voice trembled.

Noticing Freya shaking like a leaf, Archer replied truthfully, “I am somewhat responsible for bringing you here.” He’d brought her to this place so she can make a living. But bad things were likely to happen to her because of her pretty face. On battlefields, women were scarce, so sometimes, they took in little boys. It was dangerous for youngsters, regardless of whether they were a girl or a boy. Archer’s mouth felt bitter as he thought that. “You can stay for now until we find somewhere else for you.”

“Thank you,” Freya replied, feeling a sense of relief.

As awkward silence continued, Archer kept on dry coughing. He didn’t know what to say in a situation like this. “Sleep. Or else you won’t grow.” Archer was lying down on the cot, and he threw a blanket to her.

Freya made herself comfortable around the fire pit and wrapped herself with the thick blanket. It was the first time in her life that she’d gone to sleep feeling comfortable, and she felt very thankful. And as she drifted off, listening to the crackling of the warm fire, she recited people’s names who were very important to her. Ruth, Lotty.