“I...” Vhalla looked at the thin cracks between the tiled marble beneath her feet. She wished she was small enough to slip through one and fall to the center of the earth. You’re a bad liar, Sareem’s words echoed in her treacherous mind.
“He’s not blackmailing you or anything, is he?” There was genuine concern in his voice.
“What?” Vhalla blinked up at the prince. “No, of course not.”
“Well, I know you weren’t enjoying his company.” Prince Baldair gave a full laugh as though he had made a great joke.
Vhalla frowned. Aldrik would not want her to disclose that they enjoyed each other’s company, or at least she did his. But she felt strange standing there without defending him in the face of a blatant insult.
“I think he has an astoundingly sharp mind,” she answered delicately.
Prince Baldair looked at her sideways. “That may be one of the nicest things I have ever heard a staff or servant say about my brother. Let’s see, I’ve heard egotistical, a royal pain, his head stuck in a variety of places that I don’t think are anatomically possible...” The prince laughed again.
Vhalla felt her whole body tense. “I doubt those people took the time to understand him,” she mumbled.
Prince Baldair stopped laughing and looked at her queerly. “You’re so polite, Vhalla.” Prince Baldair chuckled. “Fine, fine, I won’t push you to be anything but the good girl...for now,” he added with a wink.
Vhalla’s cheeks were stubbornly hot. The younger prince seemed to love jesting. “How is the front?” she asked, struggling for a change of topic that wouldn’t reveal too much to the Heartbreaker Prince.
“Much like my father said, the Northern capital refuses to fall. A few clans continue to resist, but we will have them in time.” He spoke as easily about it as if it was the weather.
“Is what’s happened serious?” Vhalla asked, glancing over her shoulder. They had long since passed the entrance to the servants’ and staffs’ quarters, and Vhalla’s tension slowly ebbed due to her curiosity over the towering walls of glittering gold and carved stone around her.
“What’s happened?” he repeated. Prince Baldair held out his arm as she momentarily was distracted by inspecting a fresco. He remained close enough to maintain contact; Vhalla did not realize how close.
“The war council—” She turned and almost bumped face-first into his wide, muscular chest.
“Oh that,” the younger prince chuckled. “I’m certain it’ll be fine. I have no doubt Father wants to ensure Aldrik understands everything that has occurred for when he returns to the front.”
Vhalla stopped. Everything stopped. Only her breathing and heartbeat moved in the whole world. As Vhalla stared at a distant point, she missed the blonde’s quizzical gaze. It was as though she could see the moment Aldrik would leave. He would go back to war.
“Vhalla?” The golden prince turned. Much more forward than his brother, calloused palms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, completely covering them.
Her head snapped up at the handsome man who now filled her vision, her trance broken. She struggled to form words, and he seemed content to wait.
“Sorry.” Vhalla shook her head, pressing her eyes closed. How had she not realized it before feeling the crippling horror at the idea of the prince leaving? How had these emotions crept up on her? “I just, felt dizzy.”
“Dizzy?” The prince made a low humming noise in the back of his throat. “Now, we can’t have any of that.”
With a laugh and a surprisingly graceful motion for such a mountain of a man, he lifted her small form into the air with ease. There was no hope for Vhalla as she blushed. She fumbled clumsily with her hands, not knowing where to place them as her entire side was flush against the royal’s chest.
“I’m fine!” She shook her head.
“Nonsense. I interrupted your lunch; I’m certain any lightheadedness is from that. Allow me to remedy such.” The prince grinned, and Vhalla sat helpless in his palms.
Vhalla was distracted from her awkward position as they entered a central atrium with a beautiful stained glass dome, the sun at its apex casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the floor. A gold staircase spiraled around the atrium with several halls leading off at various levels. On the floor was a mosaic of the palace done in painstakingly small tiles.
Vhalla gazed upward in awe as the prince carried her through its center. She stared up at a picture of the world cast in sparkling yellows. A crescent continent was off to the side of the Empire’s mainland, barrier islands in emerald dotting the space between the two land masses. Oceans were cast in sapphire blues, and she saw hints of land upon the edges of the dome, lands she had never heard of and wondered if they even existed.
“It’s astounding, isn’t it?” the prince asked.
Vhalla hadn’t even realized they had stopped walking.
“It is,” she agreed easily, beginning to find herself comfortable in his arms.
“My father wakes every day and sees his Empire shining down upon him,” the prince mused, surprisingly eloquent.
“I can’t imagine what it would be like,” she whispered.
“Just ask my brother.” Baldair laughed and continued on down a hall covered in a plush white carpet.
Her mind began to spiral down a staircase of thoughts surrounding his suggestion. Aldrik would be the Emperor. After spending so much time getting to know the man, it suddenly seemed impossible. Her teacher, her friend, the man she had come to...
Baldair placed her lightly on the ground before a door large enough for two people to fit through side-by-side.
“Where are we?” There was nothing to mar the white walls and golden vaulted ceilings of this particular hall, except for the door she stood before and one mirror opposite.
“My chambers,” the prince replied.
“What?” Vhalla practically jumped out of her skin. “My prince, I do not think that this is appro—”
The door swung open under his large hands and light flooded the hall. Vhalla blinked, her eyes adjusting to the brilliance. She was pulled in with hypnotic curiosity.
The largest windows she had ever laid eyes upon dominated the entire wall opposite the door. He had said they were his chambers, but Vhalla did not see a bed in sight. She did however see two separate sitting areas, a fully-set table for six, a well-stocked full bar to her right, instruments, Carcivi boards, darts, a harp, a lute, and every other form of entertainment.
“What do you think?” He leaned against the doorframe.
“It’s...” There weren’t words to describe it. “This is where you live?” Vhalla felt it must be taboo for her to be in this space, that were she to touch anything it would burst into flames under her fingertips.
“Where else would it be?” The prince chuckled, pulling a rope that hung behind the bar.
“Where is your bed?” Vhalla tried to count the number of her personal chambers that could fit in the prince’s main entertainment room. She lost count at fifteen.
“Through that door,” the prince pointed.
“There’s more?” She tried to consider the length of the hall they’d just traversed and how much could be hidden away behind the other doors.
“A fair bit.” He nodded. Crossing over, he assessed her with his hands on his hips and a wicked little grin between his stubble clad cheeks. “Would you like to see my bed?”
Heat was back on her face, and Vhalla opened and shut her mouth like a fish trying to find air above water. She was in over her head with this man, and there was no hope for escape.
The moment a servant appeared in the doorframe, and Prince Baldair’s eyes were off her, she said a prayer to the Mother.
“My prince?” The man gave a low bow. Vhalla glanced at the rope the prince had pulled.