CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TEN - STORM OF FESTIVITIES

"This vase," she said, "was a gift from the Chinese emperor to Elias Ulfheim in 1743. It has survived wars, revolutions, and countless full moons. And you," she turned her icy gaze on Anna, "destroyed it in a moment of carelessness." Anna felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I'll pay for it," she offered weakly, knowing even as she spoke how inadequate that was. Freya laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Pay for it? You couldn't afford a single shard. This is precisely why humans don't belong here. You have no respect for our history, our legacy." The staff murmured in agreement, their eyes fixed on Anna with a mixture of disgust and pity. "I didn't mean any disrespect," Anna protested. "I was trying to learn about your family's history." "And now you've erased a piece of it," Freya snapped. She turned to the staff. "Clean this up. And you," she addressed Anna, "are confined to your room for the rest of the day. I'll deal with you later." Humiliated and fighting back tears, Anna fled