... er, arguing in the stables with Thidrek, it seems that life went on as usual in the Red Boar. We sneak in holding hands, sidling up to the bar to get some soured mare's milk.

"Well, I think we are in agreement," I whisper to the young man, pushing back his blond hair to find his ear. "I do not want to marry you because I want to live a hunter's life, and you do not want to marry me until you have won back your kingdom of Bern. Which will not happen in the near future."

Thidrek glares, but has to nod sadly.

"Now," I add, "the only problem is: who shall tell this to my uncle Atli?..."