She shook her head, her guilt wouldn’t allow her to accept it. “That’s just an excuse.”
“An excuse for what?” he asked gently.
“An excuse for ...” Vhalla dropped her face in her palms, “For the things I have done.”
“What things?”
She shook her head.
“Is this about Daniel?” It was phrased as a question, but by his manner Baldair clearly already knew the answer. Vhalla raised up her eyes from her hands. Baldair sighed. “Vhalla, have you thought that this could be a good thing?”
“Don’t you dare say that!” Fire pulsed through her veins. “My brother isn’t—”
“I love him!” Vhalla cut off Baldair. “I love Aldrik.” Saying it aloud reaffirmed the source of her most immediate guilt.
Baldair stared at her, a sad sort of hopelessness pulling on his shoulders. Vhalla turned, grabbing herself. She didn’t want to be around this prince if that was all he had to say.
Two strong arms wrapped around her, and Baldair pulled her back to his chest. “All right, all right, I know you do.”
“Then why do you ...” Her words collapsed into a heavy sigh. “Because I hate sitting by and watching something destined for so much heartache. Because I remember the first time we met.” Vhalla smiled faintly at the memory of the Imperial Library. “Gods, you were this tiny, nervous thing. I thought I’d have you halfway to ecstasy or agony by touching you and, Mother, it was fun to toy with you.”
“I’d never met a prince before.” Vhalla squeezed his forearm and laughed lightly. His touch did not bring ecstacy or agony for her. It was an easy, uncomplicated comfort.
“And now look at you.” He walked around, his palms on her shoulders. “It pains me to see world-weariness in someone who shouldn’t have lost their innocence. But I see that it is well and truly gone, and trying to stop the forces in motion is futile now.” Baldair held her face gently with a wide hand. “I admit my methods have not been the best. But I never wanted to hurt you. I only ever wanted to keep you from all this. If I had known my amusement of inviting you to that gala just to see what my brother would do would’ve led you to war ...”
Vhalla shook her head, unsure how they’d arrived at clearing the air between them. “I don’t blame you.”
“Thank you.” The prince sounded sincere. “Now, I have promised Aldrik I would see you well. And I will keep that promise, no matter what happens to him.” The fact that Baldair had to add such a caveat to the end of his vow brought a pang of pain straight to her heart. “So I need you to keep moving. As Vhalla, as Serien, as the Windwalker or as no one, however you find the strength to wake up each morning and move.”
“How do I know if I’m doing the right thing?” She wavered, uncertainty creeping in and chipping away at the strength her voice had been building over the past week.
“You don’t, you never will.” Baldair wore a sincere smile. “We’re all trying to find our way, no one has it figured out any more than you do. You’re not that special, Miss Windwalker.”
The prince gave her a friendly nudge, and Vhalla was brought to laughter. Things still felt unresolved but, if she’d understood the prince correctly, it was fine to leave them that way for a bit. She couldn’t spend her days collapsing into a heap with worry over Aldrik, just as she couldn’t let feelings for Daniel grow from her desperation for validation and comfort.
So, Vhalla continued to masquerade as Serien and kept her hands busy. They didn’t yet know what her future would be and it seemed premature to give up the guise. It went unquestioned, even by Erion—whom Vhalla was seeing a lot more of since she decided to continue training in the sword. Erion had a very different style than Daniel and was eager to “correct” all of the skills Daniel had previously imparted to her. Daniel, in turn, adjusted her movements back.
She didn’t quite know if she could trust herself to be around Daniel, though that didn’t stop her. A small pile of clothes, raided from military storerooms, grew in Daniel’s shack, a mirror to what grew in Aldrik’s room. An extra bedroll was a secondary nest on the floor, where she slept when the nights were too quiet and her chest felt too empty to be alone. Daniel never asked what made her come to him. He never asked about the nightmares that sent her silently slipping into bed next to him.
Daniel was ten times the gentleman than the rest of the Golden Guard. Everyone else had made comment about their unconventional relationship, while she never heard even a word of pressure from Daniel. It quickly came to weigh on her.
She had taken to eating dinner with Baldair. The prince carved out time for her, which was when he probed gently into Vhalla’s mind, like a doctor inspecting a wound to see if it was healing or festering. She’d begun to open up during these meals, sipping on spiced alcohol or playing Carcivi. Enough so, that when things with Daniel were becoming even more confusing than they had been, Vhalla confided in Baldair.
The prince suggested simply asking Daniel outright about the true nature of his feelings. It was a simple idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it for another full day. It had been a dream of red-eyed and twisted monsters shining with blueish wickedly gleaming stones that had brought her disturbed and shaking into his bed and arms. While she waited for the irrational and intense fear to subside, Vhalla focused on his warm breath on the nape of her neck.
“Daniel,” she whispered into the darkness, hoping he was asleep.
“Yes?” he replied.
She swallowed her trepidation. “What are we?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me,” he replied after a long moment. “But I’m not in any hurry.”
“Why?”
He gave a raspy laugh. Vhalla had noticed his voice was more raw these days, as he led more drills than he had on the march. “Why, indeed?” He shifted behind her, and Vhalla felt his thigh brush against hers. He lay a hand’s distance away, as chaste as possible while still offering comfort. “Maybe because I’m afraid if I force you to choose, I won’t like the result.”
Vhalla bit her lip.
“I’d rather have this, whatever this is, than nothing. It’s nice to have someone with me, even if that someone is ‘no one’.” Daniel pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades and Vhalla stiffened briefly at the contact. “Don’t I sound pathetic?” “No ...” Her hands sought out his and their fingers intertwined. “You sound honest.”
His words lingered with her over the next few days. Did she have the strength to accept things as they were? To enjoy them for whatever they could be without care for what tomorrow may bring? It was a luxury she didn’t think she possessed.
Aldrik lingered on the edge of her thoughts. He was there when she saw Erion out of the corners of her eyes, his high cheekbones and black Western hair playing tricks on Vhalla’s mind. He was there when mentioned on the others’ lips. Aldrik was there every dawn and every sunset when Vhalla turned her eyes south, praying to see the host returning.
In some ways, she grew more in two weeks than she had in some years of her life. But no amount of training or mental fortitude could have prepared Vhalla for the night the crown prince returned to her life.
The curtain of Daniel’s shack was thrown back without warning. Vhalla blinked awake, confusion thick in her sleep-hazed mind. Jax stood in the doorway, a small flame burning over his shoulder, and she was instantly grateful it was a night she hadn’t decided to share Daniel’s cot.
“By the Gods, man, what’s wrong with you?” Daniel swore groggily.
“Vhalla Yarl, you must come with me.” There was no familiar glint to Jax’s eyes. Nothing to indicate the friendship she had been building with the man.