Chapter 3: We Can Fix This

I packed in the dark.

There was not much to take. Two changes of clothes. The small knife my mother had left me. A folded scrap of paper with an old address in Vinterdal that might still be good.

The rest of the room belonged to the pack more than it belonged to me. I left the thin blanket on the cot and the cracked washbasin where it sat.

My hands stayed steady while I worked. The shaking had moved somewhere deeper, under the ribs, where it could not be seen. I kept seeing the same image every time I closed my eyes. Yvonne's back against the stone. Jörgen's hand under her thigh. The look on his face when he realized I was standing there.

I finished packing and sat on the edge of the cot with the small bag in my lap. Dawn was still hours away. I needed the house fully quiet before I tried the side door near the kitchens. That door stuck in the cold, but the main gates had night watch.

Footsteps stopped outside my door.

I went still.

A soft knock. Then Jörgen's voice, low and careful.

"Maria. Open the door."

I did not move.

"I know you're in there. We need to talk before this gets worse." He added.

Worse. The word sat in my mouth like something spoiled. I stayed silent and watched the thin line of light under the door. His shadow blocked part of it.

Yvonne spoke next. Her voice was thinner. "Please. Just listen. We can fix this if you give us a chance. Let us explain."

I stood up slowly, bag still in my hand. My heart was beating hard enough that I felt it in my head. I crossed to the door and put my palm against the wood without opening it.

"There is nothing to fix," I said. "Leave, both of you. Now!" I added.

Silence on the other side for a second. Then Jörgen again, closer to the door.

"You saw something you were never meant to see. That is on us. But if you walk out of this house and start talking, you are not only hurting me. You are hurting Yvonne. You are hurting both our families. The Stormvik trade agreement collapses. My father loses face. Yours loses the last bit of standing he has left. Is that what you want?"

I closed my eyes. The old anger at my father stirred, but it was distant compared to the colder thing sitting in my chest.

"I amhurting you and Yvonne?" Ha don't make me laugh." I let out a dry speech.

"I am not going to talk, I am not in the mood to talk" I said. "I am leaving. That is all."

"Leaving where?" He asked.

"Anywhere that is not here."

Another pause. I heard Yvonne whisper something I could not catch. Jörgen's answer was short and sharp. Then his voice came back through the door, tighter than before.

"Open the door, Maria. We are not having this conversation through wood."

"No. I said leave!" I roared.

"You are making this harder than it has to be."

I laughed once, quiet and ugly. "You were inside her three hours ago. Do not talk to me about hard."

The silence that followed was longer. When Jörgen spoke again the careful tone was gone.

"If you leave tonight, people will ask questions. People will notice. Someone will put the pieces together. You think you can just disappear and no one will look for the reason? You are not that invisible."

I pressed my forehead to the door. The wood smelled of old varnish and dust.

"I will take that chance."

Yvonne's voice rose, edged with panic. "Maria, stop. You do not understand what is at stake. There are things in motion that you are not part of. If you run now you will force our hands."

The words landed wrong. Too specific. Too frightened.

I lifted my head.

"What things?"

Neither of them answered.

I waited. The corridor stayed quiet except for the faint sound of Yvonne's breathing. Then Jörgen said, very softly, "Open the door."

I did not.

Instead I stepped back, crossed to the small window, and checked the drop. Two floors. Possible if I was careful, but the ground below was packed dirt and I would land hard. I turned back toward the door.

"Go away," I said. "Both of you. I am done talking."

For a moment I thought they might actually leave. Then I heard the soft scrape of a key in the lock.

My stomach dropped.

The door was old. The lock was older. Jörgen had keys to most of the secondary rooms from his work with the Beta's office. I had never thought he would use one on mine.

The lock clicked.

I moved fast. Bag over my shoulder, knife in my hand, I put my back to the far wall and waited.

The door opened.

Jörgen stood in the doorway. He had dressed. His hair was still messy from Yvonne's hands. Behind him Yvonne hovered in the corridor, arms wrapped around herself, face pale in the low light.

Jörgen's eyes went to the bag, then to the knife, then to my face.

"Do not come close to me, I'm warning you Jörgen." I started.

"You are not leaving tonight," he said.

"Try and stop me."

He stepped inside. Yvonne followed and closed the door behind her. The soft click of it shutting sounded final.

Jörgen kept his voice low. "Put the knife down. You are not going to use it on me and we both know it."

He was right. The knife felt useless in my hand. I kept it anyway.

Yvonne spoke from near the door. "We only need time. A few days. Long enough to make sure the alliance papers are signed and the Stormvik people are gone. After that you can go wherever you want. We will not stop you."

"You expect me to sit here and pretend nothing happened while you finish your political arrangements?"

"Yes," Jörgen said. "That is exactly what I expect."

I looked at him. Really looked. The man who had told me I was his three nights ago was gone. In his place stood someone who had already chosen what mattered more.

"And if I refuse?"

Yvonne's throat moved as she swallowed. Jörgen answered for both of them.

"Then we will have to make sure you cannot refuse."

The words hung in the small room.

I felt the cold settle deeper. Not fear exactly. Something clearer. The understanding that the version of my life I had been living was over, and the next version had just started without my permission.

I tightened my grip on the knife.

"Get out of my room."

Jörgen did not move. His eyes stayed on mine, measuring. Calculating the same way he had in the storage room when he first saw me standing there.

Outside, somewhere in the pack house, a door slammed. Footsteps moved along a distant corridor. Ordinary night sounds.

Inside the room the three of us stood locked in place, and I understood with sudden, perfect clarity that leaving quietly was no longer an option they intended to allow.

Jörgen's gaze flicked once to the bag on my shoulder.

"Sit down, Maria," he said. "We are going to talk about how this ends."