After being helped back to his room and trying to avoid his mother, who tends to stalk around the halls looking for problems, Frida helped Halfdan to his room and left him alone to ponder his thoughts. Even after his win and his wound being treated, Halfdan was still shaken about how he had won that battle. Halfdan was uncontrollably shaking and doubtful of his ability to win for the entirety of the build-up to the duel with Torbjorn. 

How did I win that?

I don't remember most of it. One moment, I was being charged by Torbjorn, but the next, with a cut on my arm and Torbjorn with a cut.

I'm not even sure it was me...

Halfdan's room was dark. The sun had finally dipped behind the mountain the castle sat upon. The only light was a dying candle flame and a grand fireplace on the other side of the room, making the blood of Torbjorn, which had now dried onto the blade, glimmer in the light. 

How did I even cut him?

A knock at the door. 

"Come in!" yelled Halfdan as the door opened, illuminating Sigrid's face, which was lit with a warm smile. 

"Good evening, sir," she said as she entered his room in her servant nightgown. 

"It's Halfdan, not sir", Halfdan reminded before noticing her shivering as she clutched her arms across her chest, "Are you cold?" 

"Not really, but it gets cold in the servants' quarters. we have no fire, just thin fur blankets!" Sigrid explained whilst looking at the fire, almost captivated by the dancing flame. 

Halfdan sat up from his bed and pulled a chair next to the fire and his bed. 

"Come sit," he said, patting the chair, "warm up. We don't want you freezing to death!"

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Yes, of course I am. Come sit here by the fire!" reassured Halfdan before Sigrid slowly crept across the room as if not to make any noise. She reached the chair and sat down before being tranced by the dancing flames. 

"Thank you," she whispered to Halfdan. 

"You are very welcome," Halfdan responded before asking, "Why did you come to my room, Sigrid?" She turned her head to look at his and then to his arm, which was still bandaged, but some leaked blood had escaped and soaked up into the bandage, tainting it red.

"I had a free moment this morning. I saw you fighting with that other younger man. I came to congratulate you on the result. I did call out to you saying well done, but you didn't hear." Sigrid explained, almost disappointed that he didn't recognise her.

"Ah, thank you, Sigrid. I'm sorry I did not see you, but I think I heard you while thinking of a way to defeat him," explained Halfdan.

"That would not have been me. I only called out to you after you had hit his leg with your weapon." Sigrid corrected but confused, "What did that voice say?" 

"I'm not sure, I didn't hear it completely or clearly, but I do remember a searing pain dash across my scalp before blacking out, I think." Halfdan only added to the confusion. 

"That's very strange. I also saw you shout out in pain after the fight when it looked like you did, similar to how you just described." 

"How strange," Halfdan remarked.

I did feel like someone or something was telling me what to do the entire fight despite me. Almost like I wasn't in control. Maybe that's how I won?

"Well, I don't know how you feel, but I came to say congratulations on the draw. You deserved it. Do you think you will win the duel with your father when he returns?" she responded, obviously tired and yawning. 

"I hope so. I do not want to disappoint my mother. She won't be happy if I lose. My father will not mind as much but will not be happy and take more drastic measures to get me up to the average fighting standard needed." he explained to her before awaiting her reaction. After hearing nothing after a few seconds, he turned to face her and realised she had slumped over in the chair and was gently snoring. 

Ah, jeez, what am I meant to do now...

He gently picked her up from the chair and walked her to his bed before laying her down and pulling the warm covers over her. Pulling the chair up to the side of the bed, he sat down and rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling. 

Poor girl doesn't deserve to be a servant, which is an excellent way of saying a slave. I'll talk to the servant master tomorrow and try to arrange something. What if all the servants are like this, and I have been obnoxious all this time?

Halfdan felt his eyelids close as he fell asleep and sat upright in his chair next to the laying Sigrid.