For a singular, fleeting moment Freya felt beloved by him. His tender touch on her cheek, the look of shock and awe in his eyes - each of his movements in the immediate aftermath of noticing her left her feeling warm in the knowledge that he loved her, too. These moments were why she hadn't fought harder to avoid taking the vow. The love he so briefly offered was enough to sustain her through his dark moods.

It had to be.

His acts of love, though, lasted only as long as the blooms of her magnolia tree. Without warning, his hand had fallen from her cheek, his closeness widened by the river of his insecurities. How could he still not know after all these years how ardently she loved him? How she despised being without him? A slight frown flashed across her features before she adeptly schooled her expression into a soft smile. Freya had weathered through his moods before. She knew better than to add to his icy rage.

"I'm home now." She said softly. What was she to do? Not rush to her ailing mother's bedside? Leave Mama to the care of incompetent nurses? Freya would have had Mama come stay with her during her bouts of illness, but Daniel had banned Mama entering the house! Why was every argument always the same? "I missed you, My Love."