Saga wanted to disappear from the earth. She had never been as embarrassed before in her life. The bleeding itself was something she had always found embarrassing, but Viggo's reaction and needing to explain it to him was even worse. It had been utterly humiliating.

But as some of the immediate embarrassment faded, surprise crept in on Saga. How had Viggo lived for so long and not learnt about women's bleeding before?

That it wouldn't have been something he had been educated about as young wasn't weird. Later, as a bounty hunter, he would have mainly spent his time around other men. Quite like he now mainly did, with the exception of Astrid. But even so, how had he avoided learning about it? Especially considering he had told her he was in love with someone. He should have spent enough time with her to find out about it. But apparently not.

Who was she even?

Saga hadn't given that question much thought. It didn't exactly concern her, anyway. Maybe it should; she was his wife, after all. But she was content with the type of relationship they had, so it didn't matter to her if he had a different, more intimate relationship with another woman. As she started wondering about who the one he loved was, however, she couldn't stop her own curiosity.

Her wonderings went nowhere, though. The only woman she had ever seen Viggo in close contact with was Astrid, and Saga just couldn't imagine the two as anything more than friends. Honestly, with how Astrid talked about different affairs she had, Saga couldn't imagine the knight focusing all on one person.

But there wasn't any other woman around Viggo, so whoever she was, she had to be someone who lived elsewhere. Which in itself could explain why Viggo didn't know about the bleedings; they simply didn't spend enough regular time together for it to have ever been brought up.

A knock on the door got Saga to stop hiding underneath the blanket.

"Enter," Saga said, and in came Erna with some other maids carrying a bathtub.

"I hope we're not disturbing the Lady," Erna said. "But the Lord told me about the bleeding, and I thought the Lady might want a warm bath to ease discomforts."

With the embarrassment, Saga hadn't got the opportunity to reflect on the ache which accompanied the bleeding. Her ache generally wasn't that bad, and before she would have always needed to pretend like nothing and do whatever tasks she had for the day. But the thought of sinking into a warm bath and forget about everything for a bit was inviting.

"I'll also later bring you some tea to ease it," Erna went on.

"Thank you," Saga smiled and moved out of the bed to get ready for the bath, accepting the care without questioning it. She had always been jealous of how her sister had been fussed over every time she bled.

Erna handed Saga a wet cloth to clean herself with a bit before she sunk into the warm water.

It was a wonderful feeling to be hugged by the warmth. Usually when she bathed, Saga would focus on simply getting cleaned as quickly as possible, so to simply sit there and feel tension in her body ease was something foreign to her. In a part of her mind, she kept thinking it was a wasteful way to use her time; there were duties to tend to. But another part of her brain told her she had earned this moment. That she had been working hard and relaxing for a while was a well-deserved reward.

And for once, Saga listened to the second part. For the first time in her life, she let herself be cared for without any worry. A thought that in itself caused a lump to appear in her throat. A lump which manifested further with a few tears slipping out at the corner of her eyes. Quickly, Saga swiped with her hands, but the glance from Erna followed by the turned back were signs she hadn't been fast enough.

But Saga put it out of her mind and focused on the warm water instead, let it loll her into comfort.

"How are you feeling, milady?" Erna asked a while later.

"Better," Saga answered in all honesty with a soft smile.

"That is good. I'm sure it must be a bit of a disappointment. But it will happen when the time is right."

"Disappointment?" Saga echoed and tilted her head. Though she had felt plenty of emotions since waking up, disappointment wasn't one of them.

"You've been here so long without bleeding," Erna explained. "We all thought it must have meant you had already been blessed with a child. But worry not. When it's meant to be, it will be. Nothing to worry about before then."

A new weight settled in Saga, and the tension the warm bath had removed returned. Quite obviously she hadn't even considered it, and even if it would have been a possibility, her bleedings had always been irregular, so the three months it had been since her last one was rather normal for her. But with the nature of her and Viggo's relationship, they would never have a child together. In other words, Viggo would never have an heir to hand Sinkbek over to.

She knew he had worked hard to care for the city. The wall he had built to protect it was enough proof of that. Without an heir, it would be handed over to a stranger. Or worse, it would go unattended and left to crumble after his demise.

Had Viggo considered that aspect of their arrangement? She held doubts because he would surely not be happy with the idea of the city deteriorating. Saga knew she wasn't, and she hadn't lived there for long.

And others would talk if they didn't produce an heir. They might question their relationship or wonder if Saga wasn't woman enough to carry a child. Some might wonder if Viggo wasn't man enough to father one. The thought of her being the object of gossip didn't bother her nearly as much as the thought of Viggo being. He didn't deserve anyone disrespecting him because she wasn't the wife he wanted.

The rest of the day, Saga spent supposedly relaxing, though her mind found no rest. It kept circling back to that Viggo wouldn't have an heir and the consequences of it. And for each lap her thoughts took, the deeper became the trenches filled with how she was responsible for it all. If he hadn't been forced into marrying her, he would have been free to marry the woman he loved. And they would have surely produced heirs together.

But that was not how life was. As it stood, he was married to her, and since all of this was her fault, then she held the responsibility to solve it.

She decided against eating with the knights in the evening, choosing a calming dinner on her own to think over her plan of action. To have peace, to consider her words and approach. With how Viggo had decided to not touch her because of his love for another, a suggestion he did could very well lead to his anger.

So she thought over how to broach the topic while she ate, and simultaneously pushed away the knots the idea of being intimate in such a way with Viggo caused in her stomach. Bearing his child was one of her duties as a wife, after all, so she simply had to deal with the discomfort.

He arrived back from the dinner early. His eyes travelled over her as if looking for wounds, while he stayed standing close to the door.

"How are you feeling?" he asked and took one step further into the room, but still kept his distance as if approaching her would have fatal consequences.

"I'm alright," she answered.

Viggo's shoulders relaxed, and he took another step closer.

"Does it... hurt at all?"

She shook her head.

"Good. That's good."

Awkward silence fell between them. One which made the words Saga had decided on get stuck in her throat. But she had to do this, and here was her opportunity.

She took a step closer to him.

"I've been thinking a lot today," she started. Viggo quirked an eyebrow. "About the arrangement between us, and some of the consequences of it."

Viggo stiffened, and though Saga knew she needed to channel all her bravery for this, knew it would come off better if she faked her confidence to the very end, she lowered her head as she moved even closer.

"It's just that this way you're losing out on a lot of stuff." Another step forward. "Like an heir. And it's my duty as your wife to give you one." Closer. "And I just want you to know that if you would want one, I'd..." She swallowed as she took another step, which brought her right before him. "I'd oblige."

She reached her hand out and considered taking hold of his. But the gesture felt far too intimate, so she settled on taking hold of the sleeve of the shirt he wore. Touched him without really touching him.

"What do you mean, Saga?" Viggo asked, and Saga didn't dare to look up to see his facial expression. But from his tone of voice, he was completely confused.

She took a deep breath. "If you want an heir, we can make a child." Her words were a mumble, lacking all the confidence she had hoped for. But as long as he understood, both what she meant and that she was serious with her suggestion, that was all that mattered.

Viggo did not answer her immediately, but silence stretched on between them. A silence, which grew heavier and heavier, and caused Saga's heart to echo in her. Partly she wanted to look up and see the expression on Viggo's face, but she was too afraid of what she might find there to do it.

"You mean us... ehm, fucking?"

Saga flinched at the crude choice of word, but swallowed and nodded.

"Is that something you would want?"

"I..." She swallowed again as tears stung her eyes. The truth was, she didn't. Just trying to think about it was an uncomfortable thought. But the potential consequences of if they didn't, of if there never was an heir, felt even more uncomfortable to her.

Viggo placed his fingers under her chin. Pressed gently in an invitation to look up. Saga filled her lungs and did. His eyes met hers, looking at her with a hard, searching gaze.

"I need you to answer me truthfully," he implored. "Is that something you want to do with me? Do you have those types of feelings toward me? Or are you saying all of this for some other reason?"

Her tears spilled out, and she felt similar emotions to what she had during their wedding night. Icy dread and confusion over how Viggo acted. And most of all, fear that he would not want her.

"I take your tears as if you don't. Which is something good, Saga. I don't want anything like that with you either." He smiled softly as he wiped with a thumb under her eyes.

"But... But if you don't get an heir, people might talk. People might say you aren't capable and question you." Her words came out so fast her tongue almost tripped over them.

He chuckled. "Is that the only reason for your suggestion? Don't worry about me. People have said worse things."

"But what about Sinkbek? Don't you want a child who can take over being Lord?"

He shook his head and kept his eyes gentle, though his smile dimmed. "I know that is something to consider because I can't leave this place unprotected and uncared for. But that is an issue for the future. I will have time to find someone suitable to take over. But it won't be my child. I accepted a long time ago that I will never have a child. So please, never feel like you have to push for that. I have no interest."

Saga swallowed. His words only lessened her worries a bit. Just because he had no qualms about being the object of gossip, it didn't mean that wouldn't hurt him. But he had made himself clear, so Saga held back her protests and nodded.

"Good." His smile strengthened again. But only for a moment before a wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. "I want you to be honest about anything you might feel, though." A slight pinkness started on his cheeks. "If you would develop those types of, ehm, feelings, then I want you to tell me."

"Types of feelings?" She tilted her head.

The pinkness increased. "Romantic feelings," he mumbled, and for the first time, he was the one whose gaze lowered. "I will never have those feelings for you. I don't see you that way. So if you feel anything like that for me, I want you to tell me so we can talk about it." Then in an even lower voice he added, "I don't want to hurt you by accident."

Heat crawled up Saga's face. "I don't even know if I would know," she mumbled and joined Viggo in looking toward the floor. "I... I don't know what that would feel like."

She had read a lot of books depicting that kind of love, but it was something she found elusive. In the stories, it always seemed like the characters just knew. But how could they really know that was what they felt?

It became quiet again for a bit before Viggo answered her. "Loving someone means you can't imagine life without them, which we of course can feel toward family and friends as well. But it's stronger. They are the most important person in your life, one you would do anything for. And then there is the physical aspect to it as well. A desire to be close to them physically."

Frowning, Saga looked up again. The pinkness was still visible on Viggo, but he looked gentle again with a soft adoration as he brushed some of her hair back.

"And I want you to know," he continued, then took a deep breath. It trembled a bit, but his eyes hardened with determination. "Though I will never hold any romantic love for you, I love you. I care about you and consider you family. And I always will."

Tears swam in Saga's eyes again, and she leaned forward. Viggo answered the action by wrapping his arms around her. Holding her steady as she cried in a mix of gratitude and fear. He was more of a father to her than her own had ever been. More of a sibling than her sister. He was family to her as well, and she was grateful she had him.

But she feared his promise of always wasn't true. That she would eventually prove too difficult to love and care for. She already felt as if she took more than she gave, and anyone would grow tired of only giving. All she could hope was that she found more strength to give before that came to be.

"Let's sleep now," Viggo suggested when her tears had run out, and she followed his lead.

Together they got into bed, side by side, not touching but sharing the space in comfortable, familial peace.

As she fell asleep, Saga's mind shifted through the different things Viggo had told her, and in particular landing on his explanation of romantic love. She wondered if she would ever experience that kind of love and who it might then be toward. Who she would care for and want to be close to in such a way. And the absolutely last thing her mind strayed to before sleep took over was eyes as blue as the sky.