I had been bound at the wrists and locked in this cold and damp room for days. The harsh winter winds poured through the cracks in the walls and bit at my skin. Before the guards had left me alone in this cell, they removed my wool dress, cape and fur boots leaving me in only my linen underdress and knee high socks. I was huddled in a ball with my knees brought tightly into my chest in the corner of the room trying desperately to stay warm. There was some straw on the stone floor that I'd raked together and buried my feet under in hopes they would stay warm.

The rope was cutting into the skin of my wrists from being tied too tight. With every violent shiver of my body it felt like my skin was on fire from the harsh rope rubbing against it. My body was starting to ache from how much I was shivering, each one eliciting a moan of pain when I finally stopped convulsing.

In the time I was here, no one had come to visit me or tried to help me escape. Not Sigurd, not Helga or Floki. Not even Ivar nor Aslaug had come to collect me for my new servant duties. My eyes were still dry and irritated from crying as hard as I had when I was first thrown into this room. Of all the things I'd lost due to Aslaug's delusional jealousy, nothing hurt more than feeling this alone.

I scoffed at the thought of Aslaug. Because of that miserable drunk I'd now spend the rest of my days serving a mad queen and her even more insane son. Another jarring shiver over took my body followed by a loud moan.

Yet another moan left my lips as the door to my cell finally opened. My forehead rested upon my knees causing my hair to curtain around my face, blocking my view. I didn't have to look. I knew instantly who it was from the dragging sound as I felt a human presence draw closer to me.

Ivar's hand reached out, tucking my now greasy and knotted hair behind my ears so he could see my face.

As if on queue another uncontrollable shiver raked over my body followed this time by a whimper. I looked up out of the corner of my eye at Ivar as the sound left my lips and I could see the sick smile spread slowly across Ivar's lips.

"Poor Briet," Ivar said in mock empathy.

Without thinking my head fell into Ivar's hand that was still outstretched. My cheek landed in his palm and I sighed euphorically from feeling the warmth of his hand against my frozen skin. My eyes closed as I soaked in his heat. It lasted for only seconds as he ripped his hand from my cheek. I involuntarily followed his movement trying to cling to the warmth of his recoiling hand.

"My mother is requesting your presence."

My eyes slowly fluttered open, my pale blue meeting his icy orbs. I felt my brows furrow as I studied his facial expression. The boy always had a look of smug confidence on his face but in this moment he looked unsure, uneasy almost at my momentary need for his touch.

He must have realized that I was studying his change of expression because he quickly brushed off his look of uneasiness. Ivar cleared his throat while his gaze left mine to look over my hunched frame before he turned and made his way out of the cell. The guard who was standing outside rushed in as soon as Ivar's limp legs were out of his way. The older man took hold of my upper arm and ripped me from the corner, forcing me to my feet. As soon as I was out of the cell and into the hallway, I looked for Ivar. He couldn't have gotten that far but to my dismay he was no where to be found in either direction.

On wobbly legs I was brought in front of the Queen who was perched on her throne in the great hall, a cup in her hand. The same scowl painted on her face. Her eyes were lined with thick black paint making her eyes even more intense. The hair framing her thin face was tied back in braids that wove around the metal crown that she wore while the rest of her locks flowed down around her neck. Aslaug smiled and nodded her head at the guard, signaling for him to leave us. Before he let go of me he took his knife from it's sheath on his belt and cut at the ropes around my wrists.

As soon as the guard let go I dropped to my knees. To my right was the long fire pit that heated the great hall. Without thinking I crawled over to the stone pit and threw my hands as close to the flames as I could muster. I watched as the tips of the flames licked at my fingertips. My shivering finally ebbed as the heat from the fire wrapped around my body lulling me to sleep.

"Do you understand why I have imprisoned you?" Aslaug finally spoke, bringing me back to consciousness.

I went to speak but my voice was raspy and almost inaudible. Instead I nodded my head 'yes' in response to her question.

"Margrethe will take you to get fresh clothes, after that you are to prepare supper for myself and my sons." She commanded. At the mention of her name, Margrethe appeared, her hands folded in front of her as her head was bowed, looking at her tangled fingers. The queen waved me away with a flick of her hand.

Margrethe took her silent queue and rushed over to me, taking my hand in hers and leading me away from the fire and out of the large room. She hurried me down the hall and into the pantry where all of the skinned animals were hanging from metal hooks that swung from the ceiling. The girl let go of my hand as she rushed off leaving me to take in the rest of my surroundings. Baskets of carrots, potatoes and onions were scattered on the floor along with piles of wheat and grains. The wooden prepping table was covered with flour, spice bundles tied in twine and cheeses. The luxurious smells filled my nostrils and I instantly became aware of just how hungry I was.

"Here," Margrethe said as she shoved a new linen dress in my chest. My arms wrapped around the material just as she placed a pair of shoes on top. "Get dressed. I'm going to the market to buy some fish for supper. When I come back we will get started." Margrethe's movements were quick and concise, knowing exactly what she had to do to stay out of trouble.

Shutting the door behind her I let out a defeated breath. Letting the shoes fall to the dirt floor I held out the dress eyeing it over. At least this will be warmer than what I'm wearing, I thought as I set it on the table and slipped my fingers under the material at my shoulders. I shimmied out of the dress and stood in the room in nothing but my knee high socks. Reaching over for the garment I heard what sounded like movement outside of the room.

I hurriedly grabbed the cloth and held it to my naked form, trying to hide my womanhood. I looked at the door waiting for it to open but it never does. Maybe it's just my imagination? Breathing out a sigh of relief, I slip the dress on over my head and then stepping into the shoes, criss crossing the laces up around my ankles and then tying them.

Some time later Margrethe came back to find me picking at a loaf of bread. She chided me for "stealing" the food that was meant for our masters and then started to prepare the meal.

That night while serving dinner, I'd never felt more humiliated. Aslaug made sure to make my new servant duties as ridiculous as possible. Like a child, she purposely spilled her food or her drink making me run to and fro to clean, serve and fill horns nonstop. Though there was a handful of thralls to serve, Aslaug demanded that only I be called upon for any need.

Ubbe and Hvitserk ignored the spectacle as they both courted Margrethe. Hvitserk looked at me with sorrow filled eyes as he watched me struggle to keep up with all of my demands. At one point he took the pitcher of ale and filled his own cup just to give me a small break. I mouthed 'thank you' to him as he took back the wooden pitcher. He smiled up at me before he slid a piece of chicken into the pocket of my apron with a wink.

Sigurd sat with his head down while he picked at his food on his plate. I could see the embarrassment on his face as Aslaug had ordered me to fill his horn. Rounding the table to do as I was ordered I felt anger rise in me. Anger that Sigurd, my life long friend sat there and did nothing. Nothing to help me out of this situation. The more the events of the past days played over in my head the more my emotions started to bubble. He didn't come to see me while I was locked in that room. He barely even fought his mother and Ivar on their false accusations of me planning a coup against the Queen.

Sigurd held his horn out for me as I started to pour the ale. I felt my cheeks getting warm as my arm started to shake. Before I could even think, I emptied the rest of the ale in the pitcher on Sigurd's head, drenching him.

"I'm sorry, coward." I spat. Hvitserk chuckled at my comment as I threw the empty pitcher down at Aslaug's feet and stormed out of the room. I could hear Sigurd yelling my name as I broke into a sprint, heading for the door out of the great hall.

I almost made it until I tripped over something on the floor causing me to tumble to the ground harshly. I used my palms to break my fall and ended up sitting them on the raw wood beams that was the floor. I winced as my head snapped back to the obstruction only to find Ivar reeling in pain, grabbing at his legs. I must have tripped over him.

"Ivar, I... I'm so sorry, are you alright?" I asked as I saw how much pain I'd caused him. He glared up at me from behind his thick eyelashes as he sucked in air through his clenched jaw. I sat up in front of him, reaching my hand out to try and comfort him and stopped mid-motion.

Why do I care if I've hurt him? Because of him I was in this whole mess! Before I could get to my feet on my own I was hauled up off the ground by a guard. He held me with his arms wrapped tightly around my center causing me to be brought off the ground. I yelped as I felt the oxygen being squeezed from my lungs.

I looked down at Ivar with pleading eyes silently hoping that he would say something to the guard to let me go. I heard stomping footsteps coming down the hall. Looking up I saw Aslaug stalking towards me. As she stopped in front of me her hand shot up and struck me across the face making my head snap in the direction of the blow.

"Take her away." She seethed.