The heat of his fingertips burned like the weight of his eyes, and Vhalla was entranced by both. They danced around something that neither seemed ready to admit. Vhalla did not think on it. The only thing she thought of was how close the prince’s face was to hers as he reached to touch her hand.
“Do you ever practice your sorcery?” Vhalla asked suddenly, diffusing the moment.
“I used to practice more frequently.” He straightened away and placed a hand on his hip. Vhalla instantly remembered his wound. She busied her mouth with another bite of food to avoid asking another stupid question. “Will you join the Tower?”
Vhalla stopped mid-chew. Untutored in decorum, she placed the half-eaten sandwich back in the box and wiped her palms on her knees. Aldrik’s eyes grazed over the action but he said nothing as she worked through her response.
“Aldrik,” she whispered softly, staring at the crimson roses that were their only company.
“Vhalla?” Confusion about her demeanor was evident in his voice.
“If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?” When had word Eradicated begun to make her uncomfortable?
“What do you mean?” He arched a dark eyebrow.
“The Bond.” Vhalla looked to him, placing a palm on the bench between them. Her fingers almost touched his thigh. “You said it’s a magical connection, that it saved your life. If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?”
“Do not concern yourself with that.” He shook his head. The motion caused a stray piece of hair to fall forward to arch around the side of his face.
“Do you know?” she asked with pursed lips. There wasn’t any point to her asking. Vhalla acknowledged to herself that eradication was no longer an option.
“I do not,” he relented with a small sigh. “But I wish for you to make your decision for yourself, not because—”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Vhalla interrupted the prince. He blinked at her. “Aldrik, I couldn’t make a decision if I knew it would hurt you.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because—” The sharp cry of an iron gate followed by the loud clang of it closing interrupted her. Vhalla looked to the door.
Heavy footsteps ground upon the gravel path. Vhalla barely recognized the gait of the step, but Aldrik did instantly. He straightened, and Vhalla did the same. The man that she had just spoken with so casually suddenly wore a face as hard as stone.
“Brother!” another male voice called energetically. “Brother, are you here?”
Two shadows appeared outside the fogged glass of the greenhouse, their outlines blurry and indistinguishable. The door to the gazebo opened, and a stocky prince walked in boldly. The man Aldrik had been with the day prior entered with him—the head of Senate. Prince Baldair looked across the room to Aldrik and then Vhalla.
“I did not realize you had company, brother.” A slow smile crept across his features.
“Baldair, I believe we have discussed—at length—that I am not to be disturbed within my garden.” Aldrik’s voice was tight and tense.
Vhalla missed the awkward exchange of the princes as the senator’s stare sent a shiver down her spine. The older man squinted his eyes, and a satisfied smirk grew from the corners of his mouth. The senator recognized her.
“I suppose I can see why now,” Baldair laughed. “Please forgive me, miss...” The head of Senate was not the only person to recognize the library apprentice in their midst. “You’re the girl from the library, the clumsy one! Vhalla, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes.” She couldn’t stop a stutter as the prince crossed the room and took her hand, kissing its back.
He had remembered her, though she wished for something more than her clumsiness. He had a brilliant smile, and Vhalla relaxed under his icy blue eyes. Her memories of the Heartbreaker Prince’s radiance didn’t do him justice.
“I didn’t expect a prince to remember my name,” she murmured in reply.
“No!” he gasped. “One as lovely as you should never be forgotten. And if you’re in the garden, I am sure my brother has not once forgotten your name.” He nudged Aldrik playfully.
Aldrik simply stared up at his brother, unmoving from his seat. She looked to the elder prince, confused by his dark glare.
“Baldair, what do you want?” Vhalla could almost see the tension in Aldrik’s jaw as he forced the words between his lips.
“Forgive your brother, my prince.” The senator gave a small bow. “There was a bird this morning. The eastern front of the southern host has crumbled in its attack. The Clan of Houl is now pressing on the East. I thought it an urgent matter for the war council.”
“A messenger would have sufficed.” Aldrik stood, glaring at his brother.
Vhalla rose stiffly, everyone else was on their feet, and she did not want to stand out any more than she already did.
“My sincere apologies for interrupting your lunch.” Nothing in the senator’s words sounded like an apology as his eyes assessed the half-eaten box of food. Aldrik looked back, following his stare.
Vhalla brought her hands together before her, grabbing her fingers with white knuckles to keep from fidgeting. Turning away from the senator and his brother, Aldrik’s eyes were significantly softer, but it was the trace of worry between his brows did not reassure Vhalla.
“It was nothing,” Aldrik responded, his voice void of emotion.
Vhalla knew he could not admit to associating with her. He was the crown prince—as if he would want anyone to know he had spent time with someone so lowly. She stared at her feet. She could never be anyone to him.
“My apologies to you as well, Vhalla...” The senator held the end of her name, waiting for her to fill in the empty space.
“Yarl,” she responded purely out of obligation.
“Vhalla Yarl,” the Senator repeated thoughtfully.
If Vhalla could rip her name from his tongue and mind she would have.
“I will be in attendance at your war council in a moment, Senator Egmun.” It must have been her imagination that Aldrik took a half-step between her and the senator.
“I’ll see her out.” Prince Baldair smiled, offering Vhalla his elbow. She stared at the appendage before looking back to Aldrik. His face was stony again. “You have more pressing matters, brother.”
“Indeed.” The crown prince turned, and Vhalla was left with no option but to take the golden prince’s arm.
The head of Senate, Egmun; Vhalla committed the name to memory. Aldrik walked out first and the dark prince did not even look back at her. The two men began talking halfway to the gate, but Vhalla only heard the wind as her prince left her behind with his brother.
IF VHALLA COUNTED the reasons for her to be escorted by Prince Baldair, she would use zero fingers. Yet she strolled with him through the garden and past the gate. Her hand rested in the crook of his elbow and Vhalla realized that, despite his size, he was not as warm as his brother.
She stole a glance down the hall where Aldrik and the senator had turned. They were nowhere to be seen. Not even a faint echo of their voices could be heard. To add to her discomfort, Prince Baldair led her in the opposite direction. The opulence was the same as the last time she walked with Aldrik, but the servants must have been ignoring their cleaning duties due to the festival for it did not shine as brightly today.
“So,” the prince finally started. His voice was higher than Aldrik’s, less gravely. But it was a rich and full sound, almost song-like. “How does someone like you end up in my brother’s garden?”
“Someone like me?” Vhalla asked carefully. She knew exactly what he meant, but perhaps answering his question could be avoided if she turned it back upon him.
“A library apprentice,” Baldair grinned. He ran a hand through his ear-length wavy blonde hair. His easy response told her he had seen through her efforts to dodge his inquiry.