Page 66 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Tears rolled down the woman’s face and she didn’t seem to hear him. The boy began to cry too, pulling at his mother’s arm. Kolfinna sprang into action, grabbed the woman’s arm, and yanked her to her feet. The woman stumbled and fell against her, but that seemed to have stopped some of the pain. The woman gasped and blinked at her through bleary, pain-tinted eyes.

Kolfinna turned to Sijur. “Is this really necessary? You were able to bind her so?—”

“I didn’t ask for your input,soldier.” Sijur didn’t even look at her and was studying Birgitta intently. Like she was a clipped butterfly pinned for his display. “Birgitta, I have one request for you.”

Birgitta held on to Kolfinna’s forearm tightly. “Please, let me go. I’m not interested in this stuff anymore. You don’t even have to pay me?—”

“Tsk, tsk.” Sijur clucked his tongue. “Of course I’ll pay you, but I need you to do one thing for me?—”

“Let my son and mego.” She gripped onto Kolfinna so tightly that she was sure there would be crescent-like fingermarks all along her forearm, similar to the rune marked on her wrist. “This wasn’t a part of our agreement.”

Sijur only smiled as he approached them. Birgitta’s son grabbed her leg and tugged. His voice was small. “Momma, let’s go.”

Sijur stopped in front of Birgitta. “Kolfinna, let her go.”

Kolfinna hesitated, not keen to let Sijur have his way with this woman and child, but her mark began to burn. She gritted her teeth tightly, torn between helping the family and obeying. The mark continued to burn, as if she was testing its patience, so Kolfinna reluctantly released the woman and took a step back. Shame made her throat constrict tightly. Hopefully, whatever Sijur wanted the woman to do would be a quick task and they would all be on their way.

Sijur held out the small knife he had earlier. The sharp blade gleamed. “I want you to take this knife.”

“Why?” Birgitta reached for the blade and took it suspiciously. She turned it over in her hand. Her cheeks were still damp with tears. “Will I be able to leave if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Okay—”

“Now I want you to take that knife and kill your son.”

Kolfinna inhaled sharply, the words cementing the horror she had been feeling this entire interaction. For a second, Kolfinna wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. Because Sijur didn’t look serious as he said it, and even now, he was smiling down at Birgitta as if he had asked her to eat lunch with him. It was so casual. So unnervingly casual.

Birgitta’s face slackened and the knife fell from her hand. “You want me to …what?”

“Kill your son.” He pointed to the knife. “Now.”

“B-But?—”

All at once, her expression warped to one of pain and she fell to her knees, an earsplitting scream escaping from her mouth. Kolfinna watched with wide eyes as the woman continued to cry and shout while Sijur stood there unfazed. Her son had backed away, tears running down his cheeks. Panic and confusion marred his youthful face. Joran stood behind the couch, his hands clutching the back of the couch tightly.

Kolfinna snapped out of her horror reverie and grabbed Sijur’s arm. “This is madness. Why would you ask her to do that?!”

“Release me.”

“Sijur—” Kolfinna gasped as white-hot pain shot through her wrist and she quickly let go of him. She cradled her burning wrist to her chest and breathed through her nostrils. She had almost forgotten she had to obey him. But she couldn’t let him do this.

“To you, I’m Lieutenant General Bernsten, Kolfinna. Do not forget that.” His gaze was glacial as he peered down at her with dark eyes. He turned to Birgitta, who writhed on the floor in agony. “This is all an experiment, don’t you see?”

“An experiment?” Kolfinna’s body trembled and her voice rose. “This is madness! This is …evil!”

“Hm. Perhaps. But it’s necessary.”

Necessary to whom? For him to rise to power?

“Lieutenant General—” she started.

“What’s stronger? The rune mark that forces her to obey me, or her will?” Sijur’s eyelids lowered as the woman continued to screech. “I wish to see it.”

Birgitta clawed at the tiled floor, her fingernails catching at the edges of the tiles. Tears streamed down her face. “Please, make it stop!”

“You can make it stop.” Sijur waved to the knife she had dropped, which was only a foot away from her.

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