Chapter Thirty-Five
Brynja
The following day, Brynja found Hildi in the great hall, sitting by the hearth with a piece of embroidery in her lap. Her cousin looked stronger now than she had in days—the gray pallor gone from her skin, the awful stillness replaced by quiet vitality. She was healing. Slowly, but healing.
“May I join you?” Brynja asked.
Hildi looked up, her expression softening. “Please. I’ve been hoping you’d come. We’ve hardly had the chance to talk, since I’ve slept so much. But I’m finally feeling like my old self.”
“I’m so happy, Hildi. I’ve missed you so.”
Brynja settled into the chair beside her, noting the way her hands worked with the needle on a pair of leggings, confident and sure. Her old friend was back.
“How are you feeling?” Brynja asked, though she could see the answer in Hildi’s face.
“Better. Stronger.” Hildi set her needlework aside. “The headaches have mostly stopped. I can walk without getting dizzy. Lia says I’m healing well.”
“I’m glad.” And Brynja was—the guilt of Hildi’s injury still sat heavy in her chest. If Brynja hadn’t wounded Sholto, if they hadn’t traveled to Ulva, if she could have fired her dagger to stop him, Sholto would never have thrown Hildi against that tree.
“Stop that,” Hildi said gently.
“Stop what?”
“Blaming yourself. I can see it in your eyes.” Hildi reached over and took Brynja’s hand. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault. It was Sholto’s. Just like what happened to your mother wasn’t your fault. It was Dugan’s. Aye? You think it was him?”
Brynja’s throat tightened. “Aye. Dugan killed our mothers, and that is one thing. But if I hadn’t struck Sholto that night, this may never have happened to you.”
“If you hadn’t what? Defended yourself? Refused to be a victim?
If those two men had found Sheona, they would have looked for another lass too.
I’m certain they would have grabbed all three of us from our bed chamber.
” Hildi’s grip was firm. “Brynja, you can’t spend your life taking responsibility for the evil other people choose to do.
That’s not guilt. That’s giving them power over you even when they’re not there. ”
The words hit something deep. Brynja had never thought of it that way—that her guilt was another form of Sholto’s control.
“I’ve been watching you,” Hildi continued, her voice soft but steady. “These past few days at Duart. I’ve seen you learning to ride. Training with everyone in archery and horseback riding. Laughing with Hagen Grant.”
Heat crept up Brynja’s neck. “It’s not what you think. I’m not in any kind of relationship with Hagen.”
“You are.” Hildi’s smile was knowing. “And I’m glad. You deserve happiness, Brynja. You deserve to heal.”
“I don’t know if I can.” The admission came out barely above a whisper. “Heal, I mean. I don’t know if I know how.”
“Neither did I.” Hildi turned to look out the window, her expression distant.
“When I woke up after Ulva, I couldn’t remember what had happened at first. Then it all came back to me.
I remembered Sholto’s hands on me, his dagger pricking my neck, flying through the air, the tree, the pain.
And I was so angry, Brynja. So angry at him for hurting me.
At you for bringing him into our lives. At God for letting it happen. ”
Brynja’s chest ached. “Hildi, I’m so sorry—”
“Let me finish.” Hildi’s voice was gentle but firm. “I was angry. And that anger kept me alive at first. It gave me something to hold onto when the pain was unbearable. But then… then I started to heal. And I had to decide what to do with all that rage.”
She turned back to Brynja. “I could have let it consume me. Could have spent every waking moment thinking about Sholto, hating him, planning revenge. But lying in that bed, barely able to move, all I could think about was that I almost died. And if I had died, what would my life have been? Just fear and anger and pain?”
Tears pricked Brynja’s eyes. “What did you do?”
“I chose to let it go.” Hildi’s voice was steady.
“Not forgiveness. I’ll never forgive him for what he did.
But I chose not to let him steal any more of my life than he already has.
I chose to focus on healing. On the people who loved me.
On building something new instead of just dwelling on what was broken. ”
“I want Sholto dead,” Brynja said flatly. “I want to watch the light leave his eyes. I want him to know it was me who killed him.”
“All right. And after?” Hildi’s gaze was steady. “After he’s dead and your revenge is complete, what then? What does your life look like?”
Brynja opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d spent weeks imagining Sholto’s death. But she’d never imagined what came after. It was as if her life stopped at the moment of his dying, as if there was nothing beyond that single point of vengeance.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Then mayhap that’s what you need to figure out.” Hildi’s voice was soft. “Because revenge might satisfy you for a moment. But moments end, Brynja. And then you’re left with the rest of your life. The question is, who do you want to be in that life?”
Brynja pulled her hand away, moving over to the door to peer at the weather.
Outside, the sky was darkening, storm clouds gathering.
“I don’t know how to be anyone other than the woman who wants the men who killed our mothers dead.
That’s who I’ve been for over three moons. That’s what’s kept me alive.”
“I know.” Hildi rose more slowly, wincing slightly as her body protested.
“But you’re more than that, Brynja. I’ve seen it these past weeks.
You’re the woman who learned to ride a horse even though you were terrified.
You’re the woman who makes Hagen Grant smile.
You’re the woman who brought me broth when I was recovering and sat with me when I couldn’t sleep. ”
Brynja joined her friend at the hearth, so glad to see her standing up strong.
“Cousin, you’re not just vengeance. You’re also courage and kindness and strength. You’re also capable of love, even though you’re afraid of it.”
“I’m not afraid of love, Hildi.”
“You are.” Hildi’s tone was gentle but unyielding. “You’re terrified. Because love means vulnerability. It means letting someone close enough to hurt you. And you’ve been hurt so much already.”
Tears spilled over, hot against Brynja’s cold cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t let him in. What if something happens? What if I lose him too?”
“You might.” Hildi’s honesty was brutal but necessary. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees. I could have another accident on the morrow. You could lose Hagen. We could all die in our sleep. That’s the cost of being alive. We all die eventually.”
She turned to face Brynja fully. “But the question isn’t whether we’ll lose the people we love. The question is whether we’re brave enough to love them anyway. Whether the joy of having them is worth the pain of potentially losing them.”
“I don’t know if I’m that brave,” Brynja whispered.
“You are.” Hildi wiped Brynja’s tears with her thumb. “You’re the bravest person I know. You survived things that would have broken me. You kept going when anyone else would have given up. If you can do that, you can do this.”
“But what if revenge is all I have left? What if I kill Sholto and there’s nothing inside me afterward? What if I’m just… empty?”
“Then you fill yourself back up.” Hildi’s voice was fierce.
“With love and laughter and ordinary moments. With morning rides and honey baked apples and arguments about nothing. With Hagen’s smile and Jowell’s gruffness and Grant’s giggles.
You fill yourself with life, Brynja. Because you’re alive. And that’s what living people do.”
Brynja pressed her forehead to Hildi’s shoulder, her cousin’s arms coming around her. “I’m so tired of being angry all the time.”
“I know. I know you are.” Hildi held her close. “But anger doesn’t have to be all you are. It can be part of you, but not the whole story.”
They stood there as the storm began outside, rain pattering against the stone in the courtyard. Finally, Brynja pulled back, wiping her face.
“What if he comes for me?” she asked. “Sholto. What if he finds me here?”
“Then you’ll face him.” Hildi’s expression was steady. “But you won’t face him alone. You’ll have Hagen. Jowell. Paden. Maitland and all his warriors. You’ll have an army at your back instead of just your rage.”
She took Brynja’s face in both hands. “But promise me something. Promise me that when the time comes, you won’t throw away your chance at happiness just to satisfy your need for revenge. Promise me you’ll think about what comes after. About who you want to be.”
“I…” Brynja struggled with the words. “I can’t promise I won’t go after him if I get the chance.”
“I’m not asking you to promise that. I’m asking you to promise you’ll think about what you’re choosing. That you’ll ask yourself if revenge is really what you need, or if what you actually need is to be free of him. To stop letting him control your life.”
Brynja met her cousin’s eyes—so much like her mother’s, so full of love and concern. “I promise I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Hildi pulled her into another embrace. “Because I love you, Brynja. And I want you to have the chance I almost didn’t get—the chance to choose life. To choose joy. To choose love, even when it’s terrifying.”
“I love you too,” Brynja whispered. “And I’m so glad you’re healing.”
“Me too.” Hildi pulled back, smiling through her own tears. “Though I’ll admit, watching you train with daggers and bows makes my head hurt. You’re terrifyingly good at violence.”
Despite everything, Brynja laughed. “Years of pent-up rage have to go somewhere.”
“Well, mayhap you could channel some of that energy into being happy instead.” Hildi’s expression turned mischievous. “Hagen Grant is verra handsome. And the way he looks at you makes me giggle.”
“Hildi!”
“What? I’m injured, not blind.” She grinned. “Besides, someone needs to point out the obvious since you’re so determined to ignore it.”
“I’m not ignoring Hagen.” Brynja started to say something else, then stopped.
Because she was ignoring it. Ignoring the way her heart raced when Hagen smiled.
Ignoring how safe she felt when he was near.
Ignoring the fact that for the first time in months, she could imagine a future that wasn’t just about revenge.
“See?” Hildi’s smile was knowing. “You’re thinking about it now. Good. Keep thinking about it. And when you’re ready—when you’re brave enough—let yourself have it.”
“What if I’m never ready? What if I’m never brave enough?”
“Then pretend.” Hildi’s expression was fierce.
“Pretend to be brave until the pretending becomes real. That’s what I did.
Every day I woke up and chose to get out of bed even when my head was splitting.
Chose to walk even when I was dizzy. Chose to live even when dying felt easier.
And eventually, the choosing became easier. The pretending became truth.”
She squeezed Brynja’s hands one more time. “You’re stronger than you think. Braver than you know. And you deserve happiness, even if you don’t believe it yet.”
“Thank you,” Brynja said softly. “For this. For understanding.”
“Always.” Hildi smiled. “That’s what family does.” She glanced around at the few people chatting in the hall. “This is a large one, but a clan who loves hard and is loyal to their core. We’ve found a good place, Brynja.”
“This place is special, for certes.”
“And now I have a question for you.”
“Anything.”
Hildi dropped her voice to a whisper. “Does Jowell have a girlfriend?”
Brynja nearly squealed with glee, but managed to hold it in, her hand over her mouth. “Nay, but I adore him. You would be perfect together. He’s the serious one and perfect for you, Hildi. Paden is too silly. I love him too, but he has a different personality. Jowell is a rock.”
“I’m not ready yet. I’m still healing. But mayhap someday.”
They returned to their chairs by the hearth, listening to the storm rage outside. But inside the hall, there was warmth. There was hope. And for the first time in a long while, Brynja allowed herself to imagine what might come after revenge.
A life. Not just survival, but an actual life. With Hagen and laughter and ordinary moments. With morning rides and quiet conversations and the gradual healing of old wounds.
It was terrifying. But perhaps it was worth being terrified for.
Outside, the storm continued. And somewhere across those dark waters, Sholto was still alive, still planning, still waiting.
But for now, in this moment, Brynja chose to focus on the warmth and the hope. On Hildi’s recovery and Hagen’s smile and the possibility of something more.
The storm would come soon enough. But she didn’t have to face it alone.