The western coast was nothing like the capital.

The air smelled fresher somehow and carried the clean, salt-tinged scent of the sea. The roads were dirt rather than cobbled. There were no towering keeps overlooking the countryside, no sprawling noble estates enclosed behind wrought-iron gates, and no servants rushing through polished corridors trying to satisfy impossible demands before they drew someone’s displeasure.

Those were only some of the differences Elka had discovered since leaving the capital, the only home she had ever known, and traveling farther west. It was here that she intended to build a new life for herself. By every measure, she was a grown woman, yet it had taken leaving the capital behind for her to truly feel alive for the first time in years, perhaps even for the first time in her life. The farther she put her old life behind her, the more invigorated she felt. Only after leaving did she realize just how suffocating that life had been and how much of herself had been trapped within it.

Life here moved at the pace of the tides.

The fishermen rose before dawn and returned when the sea allowed it. Shopkeepers opened their stalls with the morning sun and closed them when darkness settled over the town. People worried about storms, poor harvests, and damaged fishing nets rather than court politics and shifting alliances.

It was a simpler life.

A quieter life.

That was precisely why Elka had chosen it.

Her cottage sat on a grassy rise overlooking the sea and it sat just at the outskirts of town. From the front door, she could see the cliffs descending toward the shoreline below, where white waves crashed endlessly against dark rocks. During clear days, the ocean stretched so far into the distance that it seemed to merge with the sky itself.

The cottage wasn’t large by any means.

Three bedrooms. A modest kitchen. A sitting room barely large enough for a handful of guests. She purchased it with some of the funds she had been saving for years. It was by far the choice she had ever made in her life.

Nothing about it would have impressed the woman she had once been expected to become. Compared to the lavish estates her peers had grown accustomed to, the dwelling was quaint and modest at best. Most women of high society would have turned up their noses at it.

Yet every corner of it belonged to her. Nobody had chosen it for her.

That simple fact still felt strange sometimes. Nobody had decided where she would live or how she would spend her days. For perhaps the first time in her life, the choices were hers.

Ragnar had been informed of her plans to leave the capital, and although he had made no attempt to dissuade her, she was certain he would have allowed her to remain at the palace had she wished. She did not know him particularly well, but in the handful of interactions they had shared, he had always treated her with fairness and kindness.

Despite the animosity that had existed between him and her late husband, Ragnar had still ensured she received the dower owed to her as Hairan’s widow. He had seen to it that she lived comfortably and wanted for nothing. It was a consideration far greater than any Hairan had shown her during their marriage.

He had been good to her even when he had no reason to be. Hairan had been his rival. Ragnar could have treated her coldly or even cruelly and few would have questioned it. There was no one in her life who would have dared stand against a king on her behalf.

Instead, he had shown her courtesy, dignity, and respect. From everything she had seen, he was a good man and a good king. Given the chance, she would support him all over again. As the new queen’s pregnancy drew closer to its end, Elka intended to travel to the palace and pay her respects upon the child’s birth.

The morning sun had only begun to rise when Elka stepped outside carrying a wooden bucket.

Dew clung to the grass and the distant cries of gulls drifted across the shoreline.

A cool breeze swept in from the sea, carrying the scent of saltwater and damp earth.

Elka inhaled deeply.

Even after months, she still hadn’t grown tired of the break taking view in front of her and the serenity that came with it.

There had once been days when every breath felt constrained. Every action and decision she made was watched. Every word out of her mouth was measured and judged with heavy scrutiny. Back then, she felt like she had been walking a tightrope.

Now there was only the summer breeze and the sea.

Elka crossed the garden and knelt beside one of the flower beds. A smile touched her lips when she gazed down at the plants she had grown herself, the result of all her hard work. She had always dreamt of tending to a garden of her own but for the longest time it had felt like one of her many impossible fantasies.

Whenever she thought about her old life, it was her mother’s voice she always heard in her mind. Her mother, Laena, had a specific idea of what she believed a noble should be and she spent years trying to mold Elka into it.

The flowers were hardly remarkable. Most people would have walked past them without a second glance. Yet Elka found herself oddly proud of them.

Perhaps because they represented something she had built herself.

A ridiculous thing to take pride in. Flowers.

She could almost hear some of the nobles from her former life laughing at the thought.

The daughter of a powerful family reduced to celebrating garden sprouts.

The thought might once have embarrassed her. Now it merely amused her.

Let them laugh, she thought. Most of them had spent their entire lives chasing wealth, influence, and status while remaining utterly miserable.

Meanwhile, she found happiness watching flowers grow.

Perhaps she was the fortunate one.

The cottage door creaked open behind her.

"You are up early again."

Elka glanced over her shoulder.

Her help, Mara, emerged carrying a basket beneath one arm. The older woman had lived in the town for decades. She visited several times each week to help with household tasks and occasionally bring town gossip that Elka never asked for but somehow always ended up hearing anyway.

Elka had tried to keep their relationship strictly professional at first, but Mara possessed a warmth capable of melting even the most jaded of hearts. Elka had resisted, she really did, but even she couldn’t help falling for the woman’s charms. From then, a friendship of sorts had formed between them, and it only grew stronger by the day.

"The flowers needed watering," Elka replied.

Mara squinted down at the blooms. "They grow more breathtaking each day, my lady."

"They were more determined to survive than I expected." Elka chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement.

Her chest felt light. She smiled more here than she ever had in her whole life and it was like sunlight breaking through clouds.