The shackles around my wrists were heavy, cold against the burnt flesh that spanned them. Just as my skin would start to heal, scabbing over in rough patches caked with dried blood, the silver would brush up against them and split them wide open. With every step I took, the chains connected to those shackles rattled, singing a terrible song of agony, death, and unrequited love.

The townspeople parted to let me through, keeping their distance. I was more than positive if they were allowed, they’d hurl stones and throw fists, shouting words just as painful as their blows. If only they knew that had I wanted to, I could’ve broken free.

I held my head high because that’s what Einar women did. Turning my nose up at the crowd like I was better than them because I knew the truth. I was led through the clamoring crowd, shoved past their hateful words that ricocheted off my skin like spitballs, and into the city court room.