Fritz stared at her for a long moment, peering thoughtfully at her face. “What happened?”
Vhalla raised a hand up to her cheek, noticing where Fritz’s eyes had gravitated. The skin near her eye was puffy and tender, likely red or a purple color. A bruise that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen her.
“A lot,” Vhalla whispered.
“It looks it,” Fritz agreed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She mused over this. Her immediate answer was no; not even by a small margin did she want to talk about her falling out with the man who was supposed to be her intended. The watch almost burned against her chest, and Vhalla thought of all the times Aldrik had kept silent when she desperately wanted him to open up. She thought of Larel, and the memory of the woman reminded her that friends were there to help in moments like this.
“Aldrik and I, we’re over.” Saying it aloud made it all the more real.
Thankfully Fritz spoke and saved Vhalla from being unable to. “Did he do this?” Fritz ran his fingers over her face.
“Yes.” Vhalla didn’t even try to lie, she was done with lies. “He was aiming for someone else,” she continued at Fritz’s frown. “But, yes.”
It was Fritz’s turn to be at a loss for words.
Vhalla shook her head. She didn’t want people to think of Aldrik as abusive. “It was really an accident, I got between fighting brothers.” She laughed weakly. “Aldrik wouldn’t have intentionally hit me.”
“If you say so.” Her friend didn’t seem convinced.
“Truly,” Vhalla assured. “I’m a Lady of the Court now.” She was eager to change the topic.
“What? Really?” In Fritz’s excitement, he spoke a little too loud and moved a little too fast. Vhalla pushed lightly on his shoulder, preventing him from sitting as another patient muttered and cursed at the noise. Fritz scooted closer. “How?”
“Aldrik, he ...” Vhalla stilled. She was tired of having revelations that made her chest ache with how hollow it was. “He traded his freedom for mine.”
Vhalla clutched the watch around her neck tightly. How had she not seen it that way before? The pendulum of her emotions toward the crown prince swung from all-consuming love to raw anger.
“I don’t really get it all,” Fritz sighed. “But this means you can return to the Tower, right?”
Vhalla looked up at Fritz in surprise. She hadn’t thought about it. Returning to the Tower, living a normal life; it all seemed so out of reach that Vhalla hadn’t considered it. Now, it stared her in the face, and it was positively terrifying. She couldn’t go back to the South. She couldn’t march alongside Aldrik and his new bride. She couldn’t pretend everything was normal when she didn’t even know what normal was, when she felt like she didn’t even know who she was anymore.
“Fritz ... I ...” How could she tell him? What was she going to do? “I can’t go back.”
“What?” Fritz’s face fell into a frown.
“I can’t—I can’t go back there. I’m not ready.”
“Vhalla, all you’ve wanted to do is go home,” Fritz pointed out.
“I know.” She sat, running her hands through her hair, angrily combing out snags. The Emperor had given her freedom, but taken away the one thing she wanted to do with it and tainted the joy of everything else. She was certain the wretched man gleaned great pleasure from what he’d done. “But I can’t be near Aldrik right now—I can’t.”
“It’s a long march back ...”
“I know. And I can’t go to the Tower and just be a student once more as though nothing happened. I don’t want to go to the Court and be their lady, their war hero, and prattle off stories. I can’t go home ... I can’t step foot in my mother’s and father’s home as I am.” Vhalla swallowed hard. Her options were running out. How was freedom more confining than servitude?
“As you are? Vhalla, I know your father would love to see—”
“I can’t!” Vhalla pressed a palm over her mouth, being shh’ed by another trying to sleep. “I can’t, Fritz. I don’t want to ruin my memory of that home by returning a confused mess with so much blood on my hands.”
“What do you want, then?” Fritz changed his approach.
“I want ... I want to forget all this for a while and wander, to be lost for just a little while.” Vhalla suddenly knew where she needed to go.
“And where can you do that?” Fritz saw it on her face also.
Vhalla absorbed her friend’s condition, freezing her words in her mouth. She saw Fritz’s bandages, the blood seeping through them. He was in no position to travel, and if she told him, he would push himself to do so. As much as Vhalla wanted her friend with her, she wanted his health more.
“I’m not going to tell you,” Vhalla said honestly.
No more lies.
“Why?” Hurt shone brightly in Fritz’s eyes.
“Because I don’t want you coming with me. Not with your injuries,” Vhalla explained hastily.
“I’m fi—”
“No, you’re not.” Vhalla shook her head. “You’re in no position to travel at the speed I will want to go. The war is over, Fritz. You survived. Don’t kill yourself now and put that burden on my shoulders.”
He sighed, a small pout overcoming his face. “Tell me anyways; when I’m well I’ll come and find you.”
Vhalla laughed softly. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Fritz’s forehead, remembering all the times Larel had done the same to her. It was a bittersweet gesture.
“I don’t want to be found just yet,” she reminded him. “I’ll find you. I’ll come back to the Tower.”
“When?” Fritz pressed.
“When I’m ready.” Vhalla straightened. “You take care of yourself. Order Elecia to do so.”
“She’s the one who orders me!” Fritz whined.
“Gotta have a firm hand.” Vhalla smiled tiredly.
“Wait.” Fritz grabbed her wrist as Vhalla went to stand. “Vhalla, I will see you again, right?”
“Mother, yes, Fritz.” Vhalla shifted her arm to take his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You are my dear, dear friend, maybe the only one in this wide world. You will see me again—you’re quite stuck with me.”
“Good.” Fritz squeezed her hand back.
“And when I do return to the Tower, I expect a full report on you and Grahm.” The shade of red Fritz’s face turned, even in the near-darkness of the tent, was touching enough to ease some of the hurt in Vhalla’s own heart. “Until then.”
“Until then.” Fritz nodded.
Vhalla didn’t look back at her friend. She wouldn’t say goodbye, she wouldn’t give it that permanence. This, what she was doing, was a temporary retreat. She couldn’t run forever. But for now, she’d go as fast as the wind could carry her.
There was just one more loose end for her to tie up. Vhalla was surprised to find the Golden Guard’s shacks mostly deserted. She’d expected to find them partying, but the revelries must be occurring somewhere else as no guards were to be found.
It was far easier this way. With a shifty glance, Vhalla slipped into Daniel’s shack. She couldn’t leave the axe behind. Vhalla started with the small pile of his clothes in the corner, fishing through them for a bundle that could hold the crystal weapon.
“Where is it?” she muttered when she reached bare ground at the bottom of the stack.
“Where is what, exactly?” Daniel leaned in the doorframe.
Vhalla was like startled game, frozen and wide-eyed, caught by a hunter. She stood, swallowing the awkwardness. “The axe.”
“Hidden, like you asked.” Daniel regarded her thoughtfully. It was a look that she hadn’t received from him, and Vhalla wasn’t sure if it was a look she should like or not.
“I need it.”