CHAPTER 4

Lucas! You’re conscious?” As soon as Freya said his name, Lucas, who was struggling with his hands, began to tear off the shirt he was wearing, and she said firmly, “Hold still! Do that, and your wounds might get infected.” But perhaps he didn’t hear her because he tore open his blood-stained shirt with his dirty hands, regardless, revealing his firm muscles.

“Why did you suddenly do that?” Freya asked as she quickly turned her head away, her cheeks bright red from embarrassment. Though they weren’t exposed, she already knew about the scars on Lucas’s back and sides. I don’t know what’s going on with him? Freya was in a confused emotional state. She was unsure if it was good to see him again or if it was painful. Then his big hands started to wiggle.

“F-F-Frey…,” he stuttered. It was unclear, but Freya could tell who he was calling. She wondered why he was calling out her name in the condition that he was in, considering that he was in the process of dying. But she couldn’t turn a blind eye to his trembling hands, and she reached out her hands, which shook too, and grabbed his, holding them tightly; they were so cold that she almost shed a tear.

“I’ll make sure I heal you, and then you go back,” she whispered as she left the room.

Standing alone in the kitchen, she crushed some herbs to make a paste, and her hands flinched from the thorns stuck in her fingers. When she returned to the lounge, she applied the paste to Lucas’s wounds, and upon inspecting his sides and chest, the cuts were more severe than she’d realized. How did you end up like this, Lucas? But it was pointless to ask him such a question because he had enemies all around him, wherever he went.

After placing bandages on his wounds, Freya pulled a blanket, made from animal fur, over his chest. I never expected that we would reunite like this.

Once Freya had finished attending to Lucas, a rush of fatigue hit her, and she drowsily crept up into a cot. Her carelessly trimmed brown hair fell behind her back, and her indifferent green eyes rested on Lucas. But this wasn’t her first night with him, so she couldn’t understand why she was so uneasy. He is strong, so he’ll recover in no time.

Freya tossed and turned, but she couldn’t fall asleep. This trivial inconvenience soon reminded her of something in the past that she thought she’d forgotten about children lying on tiny beds that filled a room, and one of those children had been her.

Until the age of seven, Freya hadn’t understood the situation that she was in, and she questioned why there had been so many family members in the big old house. And why did the children, including her, have to go out to work every morning? As she laid in the pitch-dark, her mind drifted back to her childhood.

“Freya. Get ready.” When Aunt Sophia had shouted, Freya had jumped up, removed her old pajamas, and had then changed into a one-piece outfit. When she’d gone downstairs, wearing clothes that were much larger than her pajamas, dozens of children had been walking towards the long dining table. Freya’s lips were always blue because there was no heating in the shared bedroom, nor the dining room.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Freya had asked the older child sitting next to her. But as per usual, there had been no reply. In the familiar situation, Freya had babbled, without a look of embarrassment, “I hope it’s full of potatoes.”

But sadly, all that had been in her bowl was soup, and it hadn’t even filled the bowl. With no need for a spoon, Freya had gulped it down, and a smile had spread across her face as soon as the lukewarm soup entered her empty stomach. Then she stared at the empty bowl in front of her, still feeling hungry, and her eyes had lingered there. Suddenly, she had looked right into Aunt Sophia’s eyes, and she’d quickly bowed her head down. Sophia had loathed the gluttonous child. Freya had always been particularly sneaky, so she’d had to be more careful.

“Let’s do the best we can today.” Aunt Sophia had encouraged the children to work by shaking a long rod in the air.

Her shouts had scared the nervous children, and she’d then pointed out a few of them while walking around, “Lilly. I see you’ve gotten quite big.” The child’s dress had gotten so small that her ankles were close together. It had looked like a bizarre smile was forming on Sophia’s face, and she had then spoken in an oddly kind voice, “Lilly, you don’t have to go out from today.”

“Wow. It must be nice. I guess Lilly is adopted now,” Freya had said innocently.

“Her father might take her to the capital,” one of the children had whispered. Any child pointed out by Sophia didn’t have to work again, and every child there dreamed of that day.

I wonder what it feels like to sleep late and play games all day long, she recalled thinking. No matter how much Freya had tried to squeeze that image out of her head, it was hard not to imagine it. But then, Sophia’s rod would fly mercilessly across her back, arms, and face, reminding her where she was.

“Freya. From today, you take Lotty and go.”

“Yes, madam.” Freya had nodded like a good girl. The four-year-old Lotty had usually followed her around, but she was a troublesome child who had cried and complained often.

“Hey! Hurry up.”

“But, Freya. My legs hurt.” Lotty had walked for a little while and had then sat down on the street, her belly bulging from hunger. Her hand-sized breakfast had already digested, and her body had shivered from the cold. But they still had a long way to go, and they’d be in trouble if they didn’t complete their work.

She had always annoyed Freya, who’d then sat down and softly scolded Lotty as she’d fiddled with the soil.

“I’ll carry you on my back for only a little while,” she’d said, and Lotty had sprung up and had wobbled as she’d tried to jump on her back. As soon as the scrawny seven-year-old girl had felt Lotty’s weight on her back, her legs had started to wobble.

“Piggyback is good,” Lotty had said gleefully.

As they’d gone on their way, Lotty had felt around Freya’s cheek and had whispered something that had made Freya’s face turn red with anger; the child had been annoying.

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