WARNING

This story contains character deaths, sexual themes, graphic violence, swearing, trigger themes and psychological themes.

Please read at your own discretion

CHAPTER 2

Southern Isles
15th Augo, 391

Dear Anna,

I contemplated whether to write to you again. But it is with much courage that I write this one. My hands are actually trembling and I am hiding in my room. I'm not sure how the lock would keep him out (Although I'm sure he would just simply kick my door open or grab the master key). He had another outburst earlier today. I heard him screaming, kicking, and throwing things onto the ground. Someone must've gotten hurt from the way the maids are shrieking in fear. He had a stable boy killed two days ago for giving him a horse that made him fall off its back. He was only twelve! I cannot fathom just how much he thinks of human lives as expendable.

What if I die? Will I be forever stuck here without ever seeing your face? Perhaps the next time you see me, I'll be floating around in a body of water. Maybe even buried deep underground.

His temper is explosive and we don't know to whom his anger will be directed next. It could be a random servant or the butler. It could even be me. Even the servants think it is I. He often comes home either in a good mood or in a bad one. My thoughts are in disarray, I cannot think straight with all the commotion happening downstairs. I only pray that nobody got hurt in the process during his emotional outbursts.

I can hear him! I don't want to see him! Please, help me. I want to escape this suffering. I'm sorry to end this letter so abruptly. But I must hide my hopeful correspondence, or I will be beaten again.

Hoping and waiting for your reply,
Elsa

Jack's eyes roved around the massive mansion before him as he stepped out of an extravagant carriage. His gaze landed on the petite woman before him, grasping the fabric of her dress gently in each hand as she lowered herself into a curtsy.

"Welcome to the Bjorgman Mansion, your grace." She said gracefully as she rose up and met Jack's gaze with a confident air.

He smiled, giving her a curt nod before falling into step beside her. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Madam Bjorgman."

"I do apologize on behalf of my husband," Anna spoke with caution, a hint of shame in her voice. "He was to receive you but because his Majesty called him abruptly, he had to travel to the Palace as soon as the sun rose. But don't worry, I have received word that my husband is coming back to the mansion in a little while."

Jack nodded, acknowledging their predicament, not really thinking much of it. "You don't have to worry, Madam. I know the Emperor can have his own whims when calling for us. In fact, I am more sorry for coming to your mansion without prior notice. I believe I might have made things harder for you." He chuckled as his eyes landed on the vast garden full of beautiful flowers in the East of the mansion.

"Oh dear! The gates of the Marquis are always open for the Duke. So there is nothing to worry about, your grace."

"That being said," Jack muttered, eyes transfixed on the garden of flowers. "Would it be alright for me to take a short walk in your garden before going to the sitting room? I'd very much like it if I could stretch my limbs after such a long journey." He looked at Anna, searching for any sign of rejection.

"Of course, you are very much free to explore our gardens, your grace. Would you like me to accompany you?" Anna suggested, her gaze thoughtful.

But Jack shook his head and gave her a kind smile. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Madam. But I would like to walk around by myself. I have many things to think about, you see."

Jack felt bad for refusing her kind offer and he seemed aware that the mistress of the house was taken aback by his sudden request. However, he found their garden to be utterly beautiful. It somehow reminded him of his late mother. She loved flowers and absolutely adored walking around in the garden, but the Dukedom had no flowers nor a garden to tend to after his grandmother died.

"I understand, your grace. Well then, you can just tell the knights stationed closely to call for me or my attendant once you are finished with your walk." She lowered her head in a tiny bow, a small smile playing on her lips. Jack wondered if he had been too imposing, but that thought quickly passed through his mind when Madam Bjorgman answered. "Please enjoy your stay, your grace."

Jack watched as Madam Bjorgman turned around and walked back into the mansion, her attendant scurrying behind her with an expression Jack couldn't quite read. He wandered around the Bjorgman garden, enjoying the soft and gentle breeze, accompanied by the floral smell of roses and other beautiful flowers that bloomed in the Marquis' mansion. When was the last time Jack felt like he could breathe?

He strolled through the garden with quiet reverence, his polished boots pressing softly on the gravelly paths. The early morning light dappled through a canopy of leaves swaying gently above him, casting shifting patterns on his tailored coat and on the ground below him. His hands rested loosely behind his back, fingers occasionally brushing against expensive jewel cufflinks that gleamed faintly under the hit of the sunlight. Jack wondered if it was possible to relive that time. That time when he was twelve, holding the delicate gloved hand of his late mother as they walked through the vast expanse of the Overland gardens with smiles on their faces.

He recalled a distant memory—of freshly baked cookies, cool spring breeze, and a collection of happy laughter—when he was going on picnics with his late mother. The Duchess was fond of outdoor activities with her son. She often spent time in the kitchens, despite the visible protests of the chefs, happily baking pastries in her past time. These were fond memories Jack cherished deep inside his heart.

Jack paused by a cluster of roses, their petals blushing in soft hues of pink and reds and cream. He leaned forward slightly and inhaled their fragrance, his expression was serene. A faint smile played at the corner of his lips. This was peace. He thought to himself. Birdsong filled the air, making melodies and harmonizing with the rustling of the leaves. Jack slowly made his way through, passing by a stone fountain. The trickling water mirrored his calm, the soothing sound of water seemed to weave into the tranquility of the day.

His gaze lingered on the manicured hedges and carefully placed statues, fully immersed in the peace that surrounded him. From afar he could see a small, intricate pavilion in the middle of the garden. A statue standing in the middle, unmoving, but ever ethereal. Wait—is that even a statue? Jack made a hurried step forward, mistrust clouding his eyes. Perhaps he was just seeing things. No, that's a person!

Jack stared, fully aware of the impropriety of his behavior, but as the woman turned her head, he could feel himself let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Her features were striking—eyes a pale blue, cheeks dyed red, and platinum blonde hair—gazing at something far away. Jack turned his head to see where she had been looking, but he couldn't put a finger on it. It seemed like she was staring blankly, consumed by her own thoughts.

As their eyes locked together, Jack felt his chest throb. There was no emotion in her eyes, something about her seemed…off. Who is she? Jack wondered. He knew that there were no other noble ladies living in the Bjorgman mansion aside from Lord Kristoff's wife. Jack took one curious step, and then another as he approached the woman who was staring right back at him.

"Hello, my lady." Jack greeted kindly. "Pardon me for asking, but are you lost?"

Jack watched as the woman stood there, unmoving. He was feeling quite awkward. He had asked her a question, but it took her so long to— "No." Jack's ears perked at the sound of her voice. Oh. She sounded wonderful, lovely, even.

"Are you here for a walk?" He probed, wanting to hear more from her.

The woman stared at him for a moment and he could see the cogs turning in her head before her delicate lips opened and answered him. "Yes."

Does she not recognise me? Jack wondered, an amused smile curling up from his lips as he gazed down on the woman in front of him. He maintained a safe distance, making sure not to do anything rude or scare her away. He figured that she wasn't from the capital after she failed to recognize his identity. It was refreshing. Someone who looked at him with no care or hidden agenda for once.

He cleared his throat and tilted his head, tendrils of beautiful silver hair falling on his face. "Would you mind if I accompanied you?"

Jack waited for her answer, but the woman stayed silent. Taking that as a sign that she did not mind, Jack stayed willingly, standing next to her from a distance. He watched as her eyes shifted from him to the flowers as she reached out to touch one of their petals. She didn't seem like someone from the countryside by how refined and elegant her movements were. However, Jack was confused and intrigued at the same time. If she wasn't someone being sponsored by the Marquis family, who is she?

Jack found himself unable to look away from the peculiar woman as she delicately tended to the roses before her. The vibrant blooms seemed to pale in comparison to the quiet intensity she'd exuded. "Why are you alone?" He ventured, hoping to hear an answer. His voice soft but curious, piercing the suffocating silence between them.

The woman turned her gaze to him, her eyes locking with his, but he remained silent. Her expression was unreadable, even to Jack. Her lack of response was a riddle he had a hard time deciphering. Normally, Jack would have felt a twinge of irritation—offense, even—at such blatant disregard. Yet, at this moment, strangely, he was unfazed. There was something about her presence that Jack couldn't quite fully understand, but rendered words unnecessary. He couldn't explain it, but he certainly didn't mind the silence she offered. He was supposed to feel slighted, but instead, he found himself slightly intrigued. It was as if her silence spoke volumes Jack had yet to understand.

"The weather is beautiful, right?" He tried again, earning her gaze once more.

"Yes."

Anna had been in high spirits ever since her sister began venturing outside the mansion. Her small improvements were celebrated quietly by her and Kristoff, and even the servants in the mansion. Although Anna still felt utterly helpless, unable to help her sister any further other than just being there and offering comfort. She felt as though that wasn't enough. Kristoff says it is more.

She sat slumped at her desk, the glow of the sunlight seeping in through big glass windows, illuminating the chaos before her. Papers were scattered haphazardly, some crumpled and others barely clinging to the edge. Anna tried to focus, tried to understand the words on the slightly crumpled document in her hand, but her thoughts wandered elsewhere.

I wonder what Elsa is doing now? A deep sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back, her eyes flickering and roaming onto the clutter surrounding her. It felt suffocating—almost like her desk was a physical representation of the chaos churning in her mind. She has to finish all of these documents before Kristoff comes home. Trade routes, business partners, art sponsors! Everything needed her attention—and yet she couldn't focus.

There have been many changes in her life when Elsa came back from that horror house. For once, Anna had been spending the most time in her sister's chambers. Anna knew Kristoff felt upset, but he understood just how much Elsa meant to her. And she is ever-so-grateful to her husband, for being patient and understanding. Overtime, Anna had given Elsa her personal maid—Honeymaren, and a close knight—Nokk. She believed and trusted them both with all her heart.

Ignoring the muffled hum of the outside world, she picked up her pen and then set it down again, her hand moving aimlessly over the paper. The task in front of her was monumental, but her mind was elsewhere. As her focus dwindled, she could hear a loud commotion just outside of her office—a flurry of hurried footsteps and panicked yelling. Anna angrily stood up, her steps heavy as she pushed the wide doors open. She was met face to face by one of her sister's maids. The young girl looked nervous—disheveled appearance, erratic breathing, and shaking hands—as she stared up at Anna with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"What is all the commotion about?" Anna questioned the young girl, trying to hide her annoyance, but failing to control her contorting facial expression.

The girl hesitated, eyes darting away from Anna's as she nervously played with her fingers. "La-Lady Elsa disappeared—"

"What?!" Anna's voice thundered in the corridor. Her chest rose and fell in rapid and shallow breaths, each one catching in her throat like a trapped thunderstorm. Her fists were clenched so tightly, her knuckles went white, trembling faintly at her sides. "Where are Honeymaren and Nokk?" Fury burned in her blue eyes—a blazing and untamed fire—yet beneath it was a flicker of something fragile. She was panicking.

"The—they are looking for Lady Elsa around the mansion…"

"Gather everybody and tell them to look for my sister." Anna commanded right before frantically walking away. She doesn't know where she's going to start, but she at least has to do something.

She paced in uneven strides along the corridors of the mansion, her movements slowly turning into pure panic. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging at the roots as if trying to pull herself together. Her sister was missing. Where could she have gone?! Anna's lips pressed into a thin line, but the occasional twitch betrayed her struggle to keep them from spewing out improper words. She stopped every few steps, glancing around the mansion for any sign of her sister. Anything! Please—just anything! Any sign of her!

The knot in her stomach twisted cruelly and gradually, a nauseating churn of worry and dread. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple as she frantically searched all the extra rooms of the mansion. Her hands trembled and her mouth dry. Her mind raced, a mix of anger, fear, and helplessness. What if she couldn't find her sister again? What if something had happened to her—again?! Her worry and anger collided with every unanswered question, every possible worst-case scenario her mind conjured gnawed at her with brutality. Her emotions were raw and she felt like she was going to throw up.

Where is she?! Please Elsa, please, please, please, please. Please be safe.

She burst through the heavy double doors of the library, her footsteps echoing sharply against the polished marble floors of the corridor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, as if she were drowning, and desperately wanting air.

"Elsa! Where are you?" She cried, her voice breaking with a mix of desperation and anger. The portraits of her in-laws and Kristoff's ancestors lining the walls seemed to glare at her, their painted faces unmoving, undeterred by her turmoil and her anxiety. She turned a corner sharply, almost colliding with another frantic servant. Stepping aside, her hands skimmed the mahogany banister to steady herself, trying to think rationally and calm her own beating heart. Where are you?! Please…please Elsa!

Room after room, she flung open doors, and each time she was only greeted by emptiness and silence. She can hear her heart pulsing in her ears, drowning out the desperate calls of the other servants roaming around their vast mansion. "Answer me, please!" Panic clawed at her chest, its sharp nails grasping on her heart, tightening with each moment.

As she ran through the long corridor toward the east wing, she had a thought. The garden! Elsa loved being in the garden. Anna thought, although she might be greeted with silence, she had to take her chances. Anna bumped into Nokk and Honeymaren, both also frantically looking for her sister, their faces caked with worry as the three of them made their way through the vast gardens. As Anna moved closer to the pavilion, obscured by a large tree, she heard the faintest voice.

"The weather is beautiful, right?"

Anna rounded the corner, the pavilion almost visible, and she could make out the silhouettes of two people. One she knew all too well, and the other she was familiar with.

"Yes."

Anna's heart shook and emotions came rushing into her wildly—relief, happiness, worry—all collided in her heart as she saw her sister's petite figure standing a distance from Duke Overland. But most importantly, Anna couldn't believe what she had just heard. She froze in place, her chest heaving, the weight of her breath filling the silence, accompanied by the occasional rustle of leaves. Relief crashed over her like a wave, her knees nearly buckling under its force as she took one staggering step towards the pavilion.

It was the first time in two years that she had heard the voice of her sister. Two years. How long was that? Some might argue that it wasn't such a long period of time, but to Anna, two years was an eternity. Elsa's voice was soft, hoarse with disuse, and yet still, unmistakably hers. The sound pierced through her like a loud thunderclap, like a wave thrashing oh so violently, breaking the damn of emotions that she's kept tightly sealed for two years. Anna's hand flew to her mouth, a strained sob escaping despite her sad attempts to stifle it.

"You spoke," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and dolor. "After all these years…you spoke."

Anna's expression softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing by as she stared at her sister. She could see the Duke looking confused, but that was the last thing on her mind right now. She reached out slowly—hesitantly—her fingers brushing against Elsa's. Relief and shock clung to Anna, warring within her, her emotions spilling over as she embraced her sister. After two years of silence, two agonizing years of questions and aching emptiness, the sound of Elsa's voice felt like a miracle. It was fragile, yet powerful enough to let Anna know that…Elsa is slowly coming back.

Jack observed the strange and yet somehow touching scene play out in front of him. He was confused and had a lot of questions just begging to be answered, but he decided now wasn't the right time to raise these thoughts swirling in his brain. Jack, who was left behind, was guided by Madam Bjorgman's assistant to a sitting room where he was given expensive tea.

Jack didn't mind waiting, he was here to wait for Marquis Bjorgman to arrive so they could finally talk about important matters concerning the trade between the Overlands and the Bjorgmans. But he certainly did not expect to see such an event happening. Who was that woman and why was she so important to Madam?

The sitting room was bright, with the rays of the morning sun seeping into the room through wide glass windows overlooking the gardens Jack was once gallivanting in. He sat in the oversized armchair, elbows on his knees and fingers laced tightly together as if holding onto a fragile piece of reason. The air was heavy with the faint scent of lavender essence and leather, but the calm ambience did little to soothe his wandering mind.

Jack tapped his foot against the polished marble floor, the rhythmic sound tethering him to the present. What is going on here? What just happened? What did I just witness? Questions clawed at his thoughts, relentless and yet remaining unanswered. Jack reached for a cup of tea on the small table in front of him, now long gone cold. But he took a sip anyway, the bitterness stayed on his tongue, grounding him back to reality, unwilling to let him fly back into his thoughts.

"I apologize for the rather unsightly display earlier, your grace." The Madam walked into the open sitting room in a different dress having changed out of her previous disheveled appearance.

Jack shook his head, voice low. "It's quite alright, madam. We all have our circumstances." He paused, hesitating to ask.

"I'm sure you must have a lot of questions," the Madam strode in slowly, lowering herself on the sofa in front of Jack with grace. She must've noticed Jack's hesitation. "You can ask. I believe I owe you an explanation for…earlier."

Jack blinked in disbelief. Was it in his place? Swallowing down his own rational thinking, Jack opened and closed his mouth, finding the words—but failing to say them aloud.

"She's my older sister." Anna started, beckoning a nearby maid and ordering her to brew some new tea.

"I see," Jack paused, looking at the Madam with curious eyes. "She's a woman of few words."

He could see a mix of emotions flicker through the Madam's eyes as he spoke. Was it a painful spot? He wondered. Ah…he should've kept his mouth shut.

"Today is the first time she's spoken in two years, your grace." Her voice cracked, accidentally going higher due to the emotion she was feeling.

"Two years?"

The Madam nodded, closing her eyes tightly. "She's been through something…terrible down South. I don't know the details of what she went through—because when my sister was rescued…she refused to talk."

"Is it trauma?"

Madam Bjorgman's jaw tightened. "The physicians say it has something to do with her mental state. To—to protect herself. I've been trying to help her all these years but…" She looked down, cheeks red. "She's yet to speak to me, and I don't know what to do."

This was serious. Jack thought to himself after listening to Madam Bjorgman. Was it really okay for him to know such delicate information about someone? Jack wasn't sure what he was going to do about this…this news. It was all new to him and yet much too…familiar.

"Your grace, I know that this is so imposing of me…that I don't have the right to. But I'm desperate…" Jack caught Madam Bjorgman's eyes, her expression pained and pleading with him. But what could he possibly do about this? "Please help my sister recover…You are the only person she's spoken to after two years of being here at Ivywood. I am afraid of what might happen—if…if she doesn't return to me. If she'll stay jaded the way she is."

"Please help me, your grace…I beg you."