To be fair, it wasn't the first time Freya had been approached by a powerful figure—far from it. Since the announcement of the tournament, many Viking warriors, drawn by her status and beauty, had come knocking on her door.
They all spoke in honeyed tones, offering promises of protection, pledging to fight in the tournament in her name. Their words sounded noble, polished, and even poetic. But Freya felt nothing but disdain and loathing for them.
She could see through the lies—see the lust and ambition beneath their pretenses. These men didn't care about her; they merely wanted to wear the mask of a radiant knight, to make themselves appear different from the others who sought to claim control over her life. They wanted her as a trophy.
