IT HAD BEEN NEARLY a week since Sophie had been sold to Aslaug, and during that time, she hadn't had the chance to speak with her new owner. Most of her days were spent in the barn with the other slaves, where nothing was required of her. This left Sophie questioning the reason behind her purchase in the first place.
When she was first introduced to the other servants, Sophie was relieved to discover that one of them spoke her native language. The woman, who was nearly twenty years older than Sophie, proved to be a helpful guide as Sophie adjusted to this unfamiliar place. She taught Sophie about Viking culture, beliefs, and their language, although learning it was a slow process. Still, Sophie managed to pick up some words and phrases that might help her understand the pagans if they ever spoke to her.
Now, Sophie paced nervously in front of her new friend, who sat by the fading fire, knitting. For the first time in days, Aslaug had summoned her for a feast, as Helen had explained. Sophie's role was to assist in bringing food to the dining hall and serving the guests, alongside another young servant named Yelda.
Yelda, a blonde girl of Sophie's age but much skinnier, sat with the other servants, chatting with no sign of nervousness. They were all accustomed to this, which made Sophie envious. She was paralyzed with fear of making a mistake, although a part of her secretly wished to fail, hoping that it might lead to Aslaug releasing her. But she knew that Aslaug wouldn't simply let her go; she might even sell her to pagans worse than herself, a fate Sophie dreaded.
"Stop pacing, my child," Helen said, looking up at Sophie with gentle eyes. "There is nothing to fear."
"Everything is to be feared," Sophie replied, continuing her restless pacing. "What if I mess up?"
"You won't," the experienced servant assured her.
"You don't know that," Sophie countered, finally sitting down beside Helen. "You don't know me. I'm not good at this, like you and the others."
"You haven't tried yet," Helen said.
"No, I have. That's why I ended up here."
Before Helen could reply, a man walked in, directing Sophie and the other selected servants to follow him. Giving Helen one last glance, Sophie stood up and followed the young servants, each assigned a specific task.
"You've got this, my child," Helen called after her. Sophie hadn't expected to find such support in this place, but it seemed that Helen's encouragement wasn't enough, as her services weren't required by Queen Aslaug tonight. Sophie couldn't help but feel lost without her.
Following the Viking man and her fellow servants, Sophie entered a room where food was neatly arranged on tables, ready to be served. She could hear the boisterous laughter and chatter from the grand hall, separated from them only by a thin curtain, which did little to calm her nerves.
Following the lead of the other servants, Sophie picked up a large bowl of soup she was unfamiliar with and began following them carefully.
Her eyes widened as she entered the chaotic room filled with Vikings, all of them laughing and speaking loudly. Her gaze searched for Queen Aslaug, whom she found seated behind a dining table on a throne beside her husband King Ragnar, as Helen had explained. Before she could scrutinize King Ragnar, she noticed the servants placing the food on a large table surrounded by what seemed like twenty or more Vikings. Sophie was about to do the same when someone roughly nudged her shoulder.
Turning around, she saw the head of the servants glaring at her, gesturing towards the Queen's table. Sophie understood the unspoken message and, as she turned to go, the woman hissed some words she couldn't comprehend before walking away, leaving Sophie feeling alone and vulnerable.
With hesitant steps, Sophie approached the throne, placing the bowl on the table before Queen Aslaug and her husband. Yelda, her assistant, followed suit by placing a large plate down. Meanwhile, Sophie refilled King Ragnar's mug, but her nervousness got the better of her, causing her to knock down a jar that shattered on the floor.
Cursing herself, Sophie knelt down and hurriedly began to clean up the mess she had made. Once she stood up, ready to continue her tasks, she noticed King Ragnar's gaze fixed on her, his smirk evident. Of course, he would mock her for her mistake.
He said something she didn't quite understand as she bowed her head, moving on to fill Queen Aslaug's mug, while ignoring the peculiar look that passed between the King and Queen. To Sophie's surprise, Queen Aslaug seemed more amused than angry, a reaction that left her baffled.
Before she could turn and walk away, King Ragnar grabbed her wrist. "What's your name?" he asked using words she understood but pretended not to until Queen Aslaug interjected, distracting her husband. Relieved, Sophie walked away, as the Queen explained that she didn't speak their language.
As the feast continued, Sophie noticed the eyes of almost every man on her, especially those of King Ragnar, who hardly took his gaze off her throughout the evening. She did her best to avoid his attention, though he didn't seem angry; rather, he appeared curious, adding to her confusion. Everything felt bewildering, and she had expected to be punished for her earlier mistake, but instead, nothing had happened.
As the feast concluded, Sophie felt a sense of relief, grateful that she had made it through the evening unscathed. Finding Helen still awake at such a late hour, Sophie sat down beside her, her expression muted.
"How was it?" Helen asked.
"I messed up, just as I expected," Sophie replied, her voice weary. "And that King you told me about wouldn't stop staring at me."
"Oh, child," Helen said softly. "I understand how you feel, but King Ragnar is a good man. He would never harm you."
"It didn't seem that way," Sophie muttered as she slumped back on the bed.
"You have nothing to fear from him," Helen assured her.
"Why didn't they punish me for my mistake?" Sophie asked.
"They had no reason to," Helen replied.
"How do you know? The people I served before did."
"I just know, because as I told you, they are good people," Helen said, her sincerity shining through.
"You don't have to lie to me you know," she told the older woman. "I'm not a child and I've been through it all, I've seen a lot."
"I would never lie to you," Helen replied.
A WEEK had passed since the feast, and during that time, Sophie couldn't help but notice King Ragnar's eyes on her whenever she entered the great hall or even when she worked outdoors with Helen in the fields. Nothing inappropriate had occurred, but the constant scrutiny made her uneasy.She wondered whether he was watching and waiting for her to make another mistake, so he could punish her more severely this time, or if he had some other motive. Her mind often wandered to the darkest possibilities, despite Helen's reassurances that King Ragnar was not capable of such malevolent deeds. To Sophie, he was a Viking, and Vikings had a reputation for anything but kindness.Today, Sophie was tasked with assisting Queen Aslaug in trying on a new dress, and she was supposed to meet her early. However, she had been delayed by a last-minute task, and her inability to explain the situation due to the language barrier left her feeling frustrated. Helen was nowhere to assist her, and Sophie cursed
SOPHIE HAD BEEN tasked with fetching a bucket of water for the Queen's chambers, so she made her way to the source to fill it. Along the way, a young man walked beside her and started speaking, but Sophie couldn't comprehend everything he said, nor did she want to.She knew he was one of Ragnar's sons, and Helen had advised her to avoid them as much as possible, as they were not as benevolent as their father."Are you deaf?" the young man spoke in his native language, irritation clear in his voice before he blocked her path. Sophie couldn't help but wonder why everyone seemed intent on distracting her from her work, which she was desperately trying not to mess up."I asked you a question," he repeated, this time in a manner she understood but chose to pretend otherwise. In her mind, the less she spoke, the better chance she had of avoiding trouble.Shaking her head in apparent confusion, she looked up at the tall Lothbrok son with piercing blue eyes that resembled his father's. She ho
IT HAS BEEN a week since the Vikings went on the raid that King Ragnar had told Sophie about and nothing much happened ever since.She heard that they were planning on raiding Paris whom a priest from Wessex had told King Ragnar about. She had never got the chance to meet that famous priest she had been hearing about yet, and she hoped she would once they were back if they ever made it back as she knew how strong the Franks were from the few months she had spent there with them.The days were getting boring following a slow routine as winter had begun and Sophie spent most of her days helping Helen out when she had no tasks herself. She would remember King Ragnar's request every time she saw Aslaug who seemed rather bored with her life too with nothing interesting to do that would catch Sophie's attention until one day a man appeared out of nowhere and as Helen had told Sophie he was known by the name of Harbard and it wasn't the first time he came to Kattegat.That Harbard was the re
KING RAGNAR LOTHBROK and his crew were away for nearly six months when they returned, bearing news of their triumphant raid. The people of Kattegat sang their praises, welcoming their beloved warriors back to town with jubilant cheers. Sophie stood beside Helen and the other slaves, a little away from the boisterous crowd, observing the Lothbrok family's reunion. Rollo's absence was notable, considering he was renowned as one of the best warriors. She watched the famous priest, Athelstan, whom she had yet to meet, warmly greet Queen Aslaug and Ivar, a display of affection that made Sophie wonder if she would ever hold them in such high regard. Her attention was so consumed by Athelstan that she failed to notice King Ragnar's eyes on her, although Queen Aslaug didn't miss the silent exchange. It wasn't until he passed by her that she finally became aware, refusing to bow her head like her fellow servants. It was a practice she had never adhered to and never would. The day flew by sw
SOPHIE GAZED UP at Ragnar as he approached with brisk strides. Strong hands pulled her to her feet, escorting her outside with force, causing her to stumble along with his rapid pace. This was it, she feared; he had grown tired of her blunders and was ready to exact punishment. She didn't resist; there was little point in doing so. She knew he would overpower her easily. She silently hoped that Helen could find her before he did any harm, but realistically, what could that woman do? Once they were outside, Ragnar finally loosened his painful grip but still held onto her, pulling her farther away from the crowd and the noise. The night was dark and cold, and Sophie shivered, unsure if it was from the cold or the fear of what might transpire. Suddenly, Ragnar stopped, and Sophie violently wrenched her arm out of his grasp, almost tripping over her own feet and nearly meeting the muddy ground. Ragnar, however, grabbed her cloak by the neck, steadying her. She averted her gaze from hi
IVAR HAD A HABIT of appearing from the shadows unnoticed despite the scraping of the metal buckles around his legs, making Sophie jump slightly as she almost dropped the bucket she was carrying. "There you are," he said with a smirk. "Our little angry slave." He waited for a reply as she fought to remain silent, knowing that she wanted to respond with something harsh. "But Sigurd had it coming," he continued. This wasn't the first time she had heard that. "Now you decide to remain silent?" he asked with an annoying smile as he tried to balance himself on his crutch. Disregarding Ivar, she strode past him, prepared to resume her duties. However, he had different intentions, halting her by seizing her arm. "I'm addressing you," he snapped, his teeth clenched. "Slave." "What is it, Ivar?" she demanded, glaring at the hand that imprisoned her before lifting her gaze to meet his malevolent eyes. There was a fierce intensity in her eyes he hadn't witnessed before. A spark, as if Thor,
CONTRARY TO HER original intentions for the evening, Sophie found herself in the hall early, preparing it for Ivar and his brothers, just as he had instructed. She detested the fact that he had coerced her into being here, but perhaps if she completed the preparations quickly, she might have a chance to get some rest. Her plans didn't align with reality as the brothers entered the hall, surprised to see her, although Ivar wore a smug expression of pride. Disregarding her, they proceeded to sit at the large table. Sophie noticed Sigurd glaring at her with eyes that held nothing short of murderous intent, propping his legs up on the freshly tidied table. She hurriedly completed her tasks, hoping to leave, but her attempt was thwarted when Ivar called after her. "Slave. Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "Are we supposed to serve ourselves?" Facing away from them, she took a deep breath, grappling with the decision to either walk out, ignoring him, or stay and follow his orde
ATHELSTAN ESCORTED Sophie back to the barn last night, just as Ragnar had requested. She was immensely thankful, as he had spared her from whatever torment Ivar had planned. However, the knowledge that King Ragnar had specifically instructed him to watch over her unsettled her deeply. Of course, she was grateful for the fact that it was Athelstan rather than some Pagan, as not only did she feel safe knowing he was appointed to be her guardian angel but also closer to home. He refrained from initiating any conversation, observing how utterly exhausted she seemed. So, he simply bid her goodnight before leaving her to grapple with a restless sleep, her thoughts swiftly morphing into haunting nightmares. Her mind seemed to replay the darkest events from her past, intermingling and reshuffling them in a way that left her breathless upon waking in terror. The knight who once tried to violate her but failed materialized in her dreams, succeeding this time, inflicting harm repeatedly. Iva