She took her hand back and looked up at the ceiling; she breathed deeply through her mouth and, as she slowly exhaled, settled her body and spirit into calmness.
She then walked towards the bier to the right of her brother's, where Lord Alfwin already stood, his back to her. Step by quiet step, she saw more of the young man lying there, nearly as pale as the first, and just as rigid and cold.
His beloved face drained of life was not quite the destructive sight she had dreaded it to be. Crying beforehand had helped reduce the impact, but more than that, her newfound resolve was what had strengthened her shield.
Hilde had entered this House of Mourning wanting nothing more than to get the ordeal over with—and in some ways hoping that afterward, she might start to forget and somehow carry
