Chapter 14

**TRIGGER WARNING** This chapter contains mention of death. We follow Olga and her family outside the village, and everyone else from town also joins. Catherine catches up to us, walking next to me silently as we approach a hillside. I see the husband of the woman digging a hole, I assume her grave, as her body lies to the side wrapped in linen. I realize that even in death, she’s holding the baby, and it brings me so much comfort. Even if he did not make it, he is still so loved. Everyone stands, watching the man dig the hole on his own, but no one is moving to help him. This must be the custom here, but it hurts my heart. He’s been through so much. Why does he have to do this alone? “Why is no one helping?” I ask my friend quietly. “The husband or wife digs the grave here,” she tells me. What? The man is dealing with such a great loss. Someone, anyone, should help him. I consider stepping up and helping, but Jarl stands and says something, keeping everyone’s attention on him. A few people speak up and say things I don’t understand, but I’m sure they’re speaking about the mother. Behind Jarl, the husband continues to dig the grave. He shouldn’t do this alone. Every part of his life will now be alone. Where are his friends? What about her family? Why does no one else care? I look up at Anders, and he looks upset. His entire body is tense, and he’s clenching his jaw. I follow his eyes and realize he’s staring at the poor man, not Jarl. The man cries freely as he digs and digs as everyone stands and watches him alone. After some time, he falls forward on his knees next to the hole, sobbing into his hands. It’s too much to bear, and I walk forward to him, kneeling beside him and taking his hands. He squeezes them tightly as he cries for the wife he loved and the son he didn’t get to keep. I stay there with him, ignoring everyone behind me, hoping that for even just a moment, he doesn’t feel so alone. I hear digging next to me and look up to see Anders digging the hole for the man. He says something I don’t understand, and the man cries harder, squeezing my hands tightly. It hurts, but I won’t dare say anything. He needs someone to care right now. After some time, he releases my hands and stands, helping Anders dig the hole. I look behind me and realize that we are alone. The people of the village have all left. Only Catherine and Helga remain. I stand and walk to them, letting the men continue with the necessary work as Helga hugs me tightly and kisses my forehead. I look around and see some little yellow flowers growing near a rock, so I go to pick them. Even in death, people deserve to have something nice. Once the hole is dug, Anders and the man lift her body and place it inside gently. I reach in and put the flowers on top of her and her baby, stepping back to stand by Anders. He reaches down and takes my hand in his as we stand there, waiting for the husband to say it is alright to cover her, to return her to the earth. He takes a seat, staring at the body of the woman that he clearly loves very much. Anders says something, and the man nods. He releases my hand and begins to put dirt on her. All the while, the man sits alone, as if he’s lost without her. I step forward and help Anders. He looks at me but doesn’t stop me, so I continue to help him until it’s complete. Anders sits next to the man, and they speak for a bit, but eventually, he stands and leads us away, leaving him alone at this lonely grave. It’s a beautiful place, but beauty doesn’t mean much amid such a loss. We walk away, back down the path we had come up, but he tugs me off to the side. Gently, he pushes me against a tree and leans down, kissing me deeply. It was heartbreaking to watch the man today in so much pain from his loss. But from it, one thing had been made clear: Anders will love me until my last day, just as this man has loved his wife. He will mourn and care for me just as this man has, for that is true love. It is not a marriage of convenience, and there is no dowry involved. He just loves me. I don’t know if it’s the emotion of seeing the man devastated at the loss of his wife or having watched Anders step forward and help a man in need, but I wrap my arms around his neck and return his kiss just as deeply as he’s giving. I give him every bit of my soul, and he happily takes it, holding it carefully. “Ost Mín,” he says, resting his forehead on mine as we stand in the middle of the woods together, and something about this moment reassures me that I will never be alone again, not truly. Even in death, I’ll still be his.