By the time I woke up later that same day, the Vikings had already started making camp in the courtyard outside. I left the safety of my room and started for the throne room, maybe Father was still in there. He was. I didn't feel like having another tearful conversation with him, but his life was on a time limit.

"Augusta?" Bjorn's voice sounded from farther down the corridor and I turned to see the older man striding towards me. He stopped short right in front of me and he looked over my head to the entrance of the throne room. "We're taking the deal for East Anglia."

I blinked at him. "You are?"

"Father wanted land here." Bjorn said simply. "We won't get another deal like this if we refused. The others will be figuring out the details; I'm going back to the Mediterranean. What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked. Bjorn walked towards the window and stared out of it. I followed him, sensing that that's what he wanted. Standing beside Bjorn, he dwarfed me. I only went up to his chest, and I had to look straight up in order to look him in the face.

When Bjorn looked down at me, I had to remind myself that I wasn't looking at Ragnar Lothbrok. They looked so similar.

"I'm going to say this once, Augusta." Bjorn said. "Whether you decide to stay with Saxons or continue with Vikings, you must stick to it. You can't live a Viking life among Saxons, just as you can't live a Saxon life among Vikings. If you choose to turn Viking, go home with the Heathen Army, then you must fully commit to living that life. You give up your Saxon customs and follow our laws, even if that means joining raids on your homeland.

"But if you choose to remain a Saxon, then that's what you fucking become." Bjorn continued darkly. "You never speak my language again, you never speak of how you traveled among us. If you become Saxon, you will forget everything you learned from us and go back to whatever life you can and pray to your Christian god that your Saxons will let you live."

I felt the burn of tears in my eyes and I turned away from Bjorn's intense stare to try not to cry. I felt Bjorn's calloused hand gently rest on my shoulder.

"Augusta." He said, his voice a lot gentler than it had been. "This is important. It's impossible to live with a foot in both lives. Athelstan tried. He was brave and noble and true, and Athelstan died because he chose to try and live in both worlds. If you can't decide, then you will die like he did." Bjorn's hand left my shoulder and he got up to leave. "Think of what I said, Augusta."

He patted my back again and started to go back inside the throne room, but he paused right before entering. "Your father gave his terms for East Anglia. He wanted to choose his own death, and for you to live. He made these terms in front of a lot of important people. People like Harald and Svanhild couldn't really refuse when a whole kingdom was on the line." With that said, he was gone.

So I wasn't going to die once Father was dead? I let out a sagging sigh and wanted to sit down or scream or...or…

I wanted to talk to Constance. My mother was such a warm memory in my mind. Judith had that same warmth, but Judith was somewhere far away with Aethelwulf and her sons. I straightened and started for the courtyard, looking around for either the healers' tent or Floki's tent.

Helga was sitting on the edge of her bed in her own tent. She and Floki had set up camp right outside the walls with the rest of the army. Her bushy blond hair was framing her face, barely kept out of the way. She turned when she heard me enter, and I saw that she hadn't lined her eyes with black kohl. Her brown eyes quickly filled with tears at the sight of me and she stood up and started towards me.

For a fleeting moment, I was afraid of Helga hitting me. Did she blame me at all for Tanaruz's betrayal? But Helga's arms quickly enveloped me in a tight hug and I felt tears burn at my eyes as I hugged her back. Helga was crying even harder into my shoulder, and I was vaguely aware of the bandage on her shoulder.

"Helga," I said, breaking fee of her binding embrace. "You're hurt-"

"It would have been worse if you hadn't been there," Helga said, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. "The dagger didn't go in deep; I'll be fine." More tears filled my eyes and Helga started wiping them away, a soft smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry about Tanaruz," I started again.

Helga's expression got very sad and she started crying even more as well. "I realize now that Tanaruz was never happy with me; she never could've been happy. Bringing her home with us was a mistake-" Her voice broke but she straightened herself again and looked me firmly in the eyes. "But I still love her, she gave me someone to take care of. I would have done the same if I had been in her situation."

Helga's warm personality was like walking into the sun after days in shadows. I helped her change the bandages on her shoulder and when that was done, I braided her thick hair out of her face. Now she looked more like herself.

Floki came in sometime after that, a dead deer slung over his shoulder. He stared at me for a moment, sitting with his wife. But then the massive man approached me in four long strides and he lowered himself enough to press his forehead to mine.

"You saved my Helga." He said once he had straightened back up. "From now on, if you ever need a place to stay, our hearth will be open to you, always." Helga nodded in agreement and I accepted the next couple of hugs from Helga before they sent me on my way. As I left, I felt so much lighter and more at ease than I had in awhile.

When I entered the castle again, I spotted Vikings looking more relaxed than I had seen them before. Harald was lounging on the pile of gold and jewels they had taken from the castle. I sped walked past and hoped that Harald hadn't seen me.

Regardless of what Bjorn said, I didn't want to step on Finehair's toes.

Just a few seconds after that, Sigurd found me. "Oh, there you are." He said, veering directions and heading towards me. "We need you in the throne room."

"What for?" I asked, knowing I wasn't really owed an answer.

But Sigurd answered without hesitating. "King Ecbert wanted to give some advice on going forward. He insisted you be a part of it."

I walked with Sigurd to the throne room and saw that Father was out of the cage and instead sitting at a table. Ivar sat across from him. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Bjorn were all standing around and Bjorn said, "Now we may start." when he saw me Sigurd enter.

Father smiled widely at me. "Augusta! Nice of you to join us. I figured another Saxon's opinion would be preferable when it comes to knowledge about how to finish this war nonsense."

"War nonsense?" I echoed. Ubbe snorted loudly and Ivar's eyes had rolled to the ceiling.

"East Anglia will not be handed over with open arms." Father said in a lofty voice. "The new king of Northumbria will want the Vikings gone after what they did to King Aelle. Your own brother will want to keep them out of East Anglia. Queen Kwenthrith is the one to sway." He gave me a meaningful look and I closed the gap between me and the table and took the seat right beside Ivar.

"Queen Kwenthrith." I said, vaguely aware of the fact that I was brushing sides with Ivar, who didn't move away. "Really? Is that the best idea, Father?"

King Ecbert's eyes flashed for a moment, as I was sure he was not used to me talking back in this way. "Why not, Augusta?" Father asked. "Queen Kwenthrith is a powerful woman-"

"Only because you made her one." I cut across him, forgetting my place. I turned to the Vikings behind me. "He is suggesting making a deal with Queen Kwenthrith of Mercia. By all laws, she is the queen of Mercia, but she's been a puppet for a while now."

"How so?" Ubbe asked.

"Queen Kwenthrith lost her throne for a couple of years," King Ecbert explained for me. I felt Ivar stiffen beside me. "She was not able to win it back until I sent my army in with Prince Aethelwulf. She may be queen in titles, but more than half her council are spies and Wessex men. Her council, two of her handmaidens, even her lover, are all people who give me information about her whereabouts and her movements. And I can report to you with utmost certainty, that she has been collecting a bribe for you lot."

"Explain." Bjorn said from somewhere behind me.

"The queen of Mercia started collecting this bribe soon after the murder of King Aelle." Father explained. "It was quite the fright, you see, when reports came south about his body and the position it was in. Already, her majesty had gathered nearly a hundred horses, nearly two hundred pounds in gold and silver, and a chunk of land in the west by the sea. According to her lover, she also plans on marrying all four of her children to Vikings, to seal this arrangement."

"Our people have never done betrothals." Bjorn said and I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Even if we agreed to all of those gifts, the marriage pacts would never hold. And besides, there are no Viking children on this island."

"Her youngest is a girl of three." Father said with a snort of amusement. "I doubt she wants them to be married this instant."

"Even so, it won't work." Bjorn insisted.

Father waved a hand. "Say what you will, but Queen Kwenthrith will likely not give you her offers without marriage tied to it."

I shook my head, knowing there was something missing there. Why would Queen Kwenthrith be so adamant on marrying her children to Vikings? Based on what I knew about Queen Kwenthrith, she had lain with Vikings the first time they came in contact with Mercia. Her oldest, Magnus, was half Viking. She claimed he was a son of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had used to take this fact at face value, but now that I had seen the sons of Ragnar, I figured that Magnus was no more a son of Ragnar than I was.

They were already moving onto the next point of topic. Father asked for a piece of parchment to write the will of East Anglia. As Sigurd left (with another eye roll) and Bjorn and Ubbe both left to gather the Viking leaders and earls, I tried thinking in my mind to remember the lords of East Anglia. Their former king, Aethelweard, had been turned into the Lord of Ipswich when Father had taken over East Anglia. It had been a sort of show of respect when Aethelweard was given the title of a lord, but he could never forgive nor forget the fact that he was no longer king in his own homeland.

Former King Aethelweard had been dead for almost five years now. His son, Edmund of East Anglia, was the Lord of Ipswich now. Despite the fact that Edmund was not king, the people of East Anglia still turned to him and his family rather than anyone from Wessex. East Anglia was technically King Ecbert's to give away to Vikings, but the hearts and minds of East Anglia belonged to Edmund the Lord of Ipswich.

I got up from the chair as more people filled the room and I took a spot near the side, keeping the table in view but still far enough away to see the parchment be given to Father as he started to write. He read out loud as he wrote, and I watched the Vikings' reactions as they listened to East Anglia being handed over to them.

Despite the fact that this paper ended the war for land, this war was far from over. The people of East Anglia wouldn't be in a hurry to accept Vikings as rulers, or as equals. There would be more fighting for the Vikings to take control of their new kingdom, and then I knew for a fact that Aethelwulf would not accept this deal, and the new king of Northumbria would surely want revenge for King Aelle's death.

Father finished the contract with his wax seal and he carefully handed it back to Bjorn. "There it is. The kingdom of East Anglia is legally, yours."

Bjorn stared down at the paper, his face kept blank. But I saw the look of relief on Ubbe's face; Ragnar's dream of owning land on the Saxon island was complete.

"Am I free to make my final journey?" Father asked Bjorn quietly. Bjorn gave my father a long look before nodding solemnly. Father stood up and he asked, "May I say a farewell to my daughter?"

Ivar was the one who answered this time. "Go on, King Ecbert." Right after saying this, Ivar looked to me and nodded.

Father stood up and strode over to me, bringing me into his arms tightly. I embraced him back, knowing that this was the last time I'd ever see him. Father kissed my cheek briefly, keeping his head pressed against the side of mine, his mouth right beside my ear.

"I forgive you, Augusta." Father's voice sounded in my ear, his breath tickling it. I closed my eyes and hugged him tighter for a moment before we let each other go. Father patted the side of my face tenderly before fully letting two Vikings escort him out of the throne room. I watched them go, telling myself that I'd grieve for Father when I was in private.

Vikings started trickling out of the room, slapping each other on the back and looking happy with themselves. Bjorn left with Sigurd at his side, muttering into his younger brother's ear. Ubbe and Hvitserk embraced each other before saying something to Ivar and then leaving with nods to me. Finally, it was just me and Ivar alone.

"Are you okay?" Ivar asked the moment they were gone.

"I'm not sure." I said, honestly. "I love my father, but…" I heaved a sigh and shook my head.

"I understand, Augusta." Ivar said, his voice lowering. "I remember what you said when we first met."

"What did I say?" I asked.

"About how your people treated bastards, how your father treated bastards."

I blinked at Ivar and walked forward until I was able to stand against the table, my eyes still looking back towards the door. "I think I feel numb. I am not relieved, but I am not particularly sad either." I paused. "I wonder how different things would've been, if Constance hadn't died and she had raised me more."

Ivar was looking up at me. "Would you have been brought to the castle?"

"Not as a recognized bastard." I muttered. Ivar's hand was resting on the table, and I looked at it for a moment before reaching out and squeezing his hand. Ivar was tense at first, but then he turned his hand over and squeezed my hand back, his grip so much tighter than mine.

We remained like that for maybe two minutes, in silence and just holding onto each other. When I gently pried my hand away, Ivar met my eyes again. "Will you be okay?" He asked.

I straightened up off the table and met his eyes evenly. "I will have to be, won't I?"

Ivar's mouth twitched upwards and that qualified as a smile. I started to walk away but touched his shoulder as I walked past him in his chair. Ivar's hand brushed against mine when I touched his shoulder.