"He called me by that pet name," Freya said, her voice barely more than a whisper, "and I ran away immediately. I didn't know where to go. If I went back to my tent, he could force his way in. So I thought if I hid here, he wouldn't dare follow."
Vyan's eyes softened as he gently patted her back, trying to offer comfort. It was hard to reconcile this trembling woman with the resolute Freya he had come to know over the past year. She had always projected a formidable strength, never flinching in the face of Lyon, even slapping him without hesitation.
Now, here she was trembling at the mere sound of Izac calling her name. Vyan couldn't begin to fathom how traumatizing it must have been for her.
"Freya," he said softly, "didn't you know Izac would be at this festival? Why didn't you tell me? Had I remembered what he did to you, I would never have asked you to come."
