Nine months. Not long--the amount of time it took to carry a child, more or less. From her own experience, not quite long enough to bridge a life before to a life after.
"I do," she said. "I am sharing one of these 'apartments.'" Her frown deepened and her eyebrows creased, though more with confusion than pure irritation. "It is a lonely and confusing place. Walled up in tiny places like Christian monks. No hearths. No comfort from others." She sniffed. "I do not understand it."
She looked at the woman, confused. "The goat will live on the roof, penned away from the garden." She was not Ragnar Lothbrok, after all