Gyda Lionrock thinks her visit to Asclan Peak is for one reason and one reason alone-to procreate and finally welcome that child of her own. She could have never guessed she would also leave something behind inside the mountains, but it was her hear...
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One day passed.
Two days passed.
Three, four, five, six... A week passed and I still hadn't left my bedroom.
I'd begged my mother to release me. I'd cried, I'd screamed, I'd broken things, I'd cussed her out, I'd even threatened her. But it was to no avail. And after the third day, I just... gave up. My screams and tirades made the little ones cry, and I didn't want my nieces to fear their aunt Gyda.
This was all because of Mother. I still loved her, but at this moment, I hated her just as much. She had always been a stubborn woman, and things weren't any different now. I feared I would never win this battle. At least not anytime soon. Because the one thing she wanted from me was something I would not give her.
I would never forget Orvar, nor would I promise to never see him again.
I sighed, still lying in bed on this Tuesday morning. "You're energetic again," I whispered, caressing my belly. The baby had been busy kicking me ever since I woke up. "You're feeling restless, I know. You're restless because I feel terrible. But"—I sighed—"I don't know what to do, little one..."
I stared at the patterns on the ceiling. I knew those woodgrains like the back of my hand by now. I'd stared at those wooden slats for way too many hours.
The days in here seemed to take forever. The nights did too. My dreams still pestered me night after night, the feelings I experienced in them only becoming worse, but not any clearer. It was exhausting.
During the day, I tried to read some, but it was hard to focus on anything when all I could think about was Orvar.
When I was feeling particularly miserable, I would stand in front of the open window, letting the sunlight warm my face to stop me from going crazy in this stuffy room. I would then debate on sticking my head through the window, calling out for help, and screaming that I was held against my will.
I knew that would do more damage than good, though, so I kept quiet and looked at the people passing the house while watching my family work in the garden as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
As if everything wasn't completely wrong.
Treating me like a bedridden person, Mother came once a day to collect my filled chamber pot that I kept hidden under my bed. That was the absolute worst moment of my day. It was humiliation on top of everything else that was already making me feel miserable.
Right when I wanted to get out of bed, someone knocked on my door. She entered and I rolled to my side, back facing the door, not in the mood to see anyone.
Just by the sound of her footsteps, I could tell who it was: my oldest sister.
"Gyda..." Fiona sighed. "I got you breakfast." I heard her putting the tray of food on my table and, not long after, I felt her presence as she came to sit next to me.
