After a night staying in the family house in Port Marden, Amalie rose early the next morning and headed for the attics.
Although her mother had said she could take anything she liked, the furniture there was far too grand for a farm house. However, in the relics from the past relegated to the storerooms in the attic, she found exactly what she needed. Two old but comfortable armchairs for beside the fireplace, and a worn but still serviceable rug to place between them. A mismatch of wooden chairs for around the table, and enough curtains to cut down and make coverings for all the windows.
From the main house she took the feather mattress and quilt from one of the spare beds, and a painting of Hand from the living room. Her bedroom was to be her one concession to luxury.