The night following the meeting is quiet. A dinner is offered to me, but I decline. Instead, I remain in my bedroom with my eyes firmly planted on the pages of the Book. 

I make it a point to begin from page one and work my way through the entire book. However, I can only make it a fraction of the way before my brain begins to swell. 

So much information lies inside the pages of this Book... It's difficult for me to grasp most of it, but I try my best. 

As I sit in dim silence, a sudden knock on my door breaks me from my momentary trance. I flinch, having momentarily forgotten that I'm not living here alone, and shut the Book with a slam. 

"Come in," I cough, waiting for either a maid or Henrik to enter.

Seconds pass, but no one enters. Curiously, I stand from my desk and step towards the door. The golden light from the hallway does not waiver as it filters in through the crack beneath my door, so I wonder...

Carefully, I open the door and peer my head outside. No one is in front of the door or in the surrounding hallway, further puzzling me and thus causing me to shut my bedroom door and investigate. 

Upon closer look, I realize that one of the panels across the hall from my room is open. The view is the sea and the sound of the harp intertwines with that of the waves. 

I haven't heard a harp in ages...

The strings are being plucked softly and carefully, as though the hands are planting kisses on the strings. Each note is a sweet call that draws me out of the jarls house and outside to the source of the music.

To my surprise, the source of the music is Aros, who lays outside the hall with a harp in his lap and a branch from a cloudberry bush to his right. He's quite a handsome man, in truth, so the combination of him and the sound of the harp is making my heart begin to race. 

"Fancy seeing you here," Aros smirks at me after he finishes his tune, "I wondered what it would take to get you out of that bedroom..."

"So you were the knock on the door?" I ask, smiling softly and sitting down next to him.

"Yes indeed," he says slyly, then grabs the cloudberry branch and hands it to me. The branch bears many fruits, so I begin to eat from it in gratitude. 

"Aren't you supposed to be hunting?" I ask as I chew.

"Well," Aros sighs and leans back against the house, "I was out in the forest when I saw the full cloudberry bush, and I immediately thought of you... how you were looking for berries when we accidentally interrupted."

I roll my eyes at him, "Quite the interruption."

He chuckles a little under his breath and then looks at me out the corner of his glaringly blue eyes. 

"I do hope you can forgive us," Aros requests, "I can take full responsibility."

I shrug and hold a cloudberry out to him. He smirks and takes it from my palm. 

"I'll forgive you," I respond, "But only if you keep playing the harp."

Aros's eyes crinkle at the corners as his face cracks with a smile. He picks up the harp once more and continues strumming.

As he plays, my eyes search the horizon. The waves dance with light from the setting sun upon their crests, and the breeze from the ocean tickles my nose. Against all my better judgement, I begin to feel at one with this land.

If I shut my eyes in this moment, I am transported back to my spot on the hill.

But with all these thoughts of home, my eyes start to sting with the familiar sensation of tears. Defensively, I open my eyes and look up, longing for the tears to retreat.

However the more the harp plays, the more I wish I could cry.

I swallow the thick feeling of sorrow in my throat and wipe my eyes quickly with the back of my hand, hoping Aros won't see. 

"Runa?" Aros's voice shakes me out of my trance. 

"Huh?" I respond, sniffling sharply. 

The sound of the harp has stopped and now he looks at me with a concerned gaze. I didn't want him to see me cry; I didn't want any viking to see me cry...

"Why do you cry?" he asks gently.

His words pierce through me like a knife. There are many reasons why I am crying at this moment, and they all seem to tumble down on top of me as he gazes directly into my burning eyes.

"I am afraid," I breathe shakily, "My heart is torn by the need to tell someone my sorrows and the assumption that no one will care to listen."

Aros sits in silence, his eyes drilling into mine intensely.

"Everything I love is somewhere else," I sniffle, a few tears beginning to fall down my cheeks.

Aros touches my arm gently, but then hesitantly pulls away.

"Sometimes," he starts quietly, "We have to leave what we love in order to protect it." 

His words warmed my heart more than he will probably ever care to realize.

As I try my best to calm down, he continues playing the harp. We sit there, surrounded in the music and the sound of the live around us, until the sun has fully set. 

That evening, when I lay down to sleep, I feel more at peace. Tomorrow, when the sun rises and the ship awaits, I will be ready.