Elecia hovered off to the side, exempt from Aldrik’s words.
“If you talk back or refuse, I may reconsider my kindness of being your teacher.”
His voice was that of a prince, not the Aldrik she knew. Vhalla glanced at Fritz, wondering if it was only for his benefit. Larel was friends with Aldrik; Elecia clearly had some connection; and Vhalla was ...
What was she?
That question echoed in her mind while they began their physical training. It ran through her head until Vhalla focused only on not getting sick from running and jumping. Aldrik refused to let them take off their armor; their physical training required it, he said. Fritz was the first to collapse, earning his ire.
“Charem, get up.” Aldrik sighed, leaning against a tree. “Or would you rather be torn limb from limb by the Northern clans? Or maybe a Noru Cat?”
Fritz struggled to his feet. Vhalla and Larel stood panting. Larel was in far better shape than Vhalla, who felt like she could collapse at any moment.
“Right, then.” Aldrik shared a long look with Elecia. “Elecia, Vhalla, pair up.”
“What?” both women exclaimed in unison.
“That is an order.” Aldrik pushed away from the tree, looking down at Elecia. “I trust you to impart your knowledge and skill.” The dark-skinned woman rolled her eyes, but didn’t object a second time. Aldrik didn’t even look at Vhalla, giving her no say. Vhalla decided that she had done something terrible to offend the prince, but whatever it was eluded her. The only thing she could think of was the Joining. But that had been his idea. And of all the words Vhalla could use to describe what happened between them the night prior, none would be negative.
“Larel, can you tell me how a Firebearer fights?” Aldrik asked.
“Hand-to-hand combat with the occasional long-ranged attack,” Larel responded.
“And Waterrunners?” The prince nodded and turned to Fritz.
“A mixture of offensive freezing attacks and defensive illusions,” Fritz sounded like he quoted from a textbook.
“And Groundbreakers?” Aldrik turned to Elecia.
“Highly defensive magic, stone skin impenetrable to bladed and most ice or fire attacks, combined with skills in weapons.” The woman rested her hands on her thighs, and Vhalla noticed the grooves in the other woman’s greaves were not decorative. She’d overlooked it before, but Elecia had two short swords strapped to her legs.
“As for Windwalkers ...” The prince’s voice faltered slightly when he turned to Vhalla. Her chest was tight, waiting for him to finish his thought. “We will find out.”
They spent the rest of the night going over basic punches and dodges. Elecia seemed just as displeased about having to help her as Vhalla was. The woman was curt and kept her comments short. But even through pursed lips and disapproving glares, Vhalla was learning.
The curly-haired woman was clearly experienced in combat. She moved lightly, easily, and never broke a sweat. She never made a single mistake and was never out of breath.
Everything about her seemed to get under Vhalla’s skin.
It was Vhalla’s turn to practice attacking and Elecia’s to dodge and deflect. Elecia found everything amusing. She had this annoying manner that made her seem like she was better than everyone else. She took Aldrik’s time and attention. Her motions were flawless. She had an elegant ease about everything, something that Vhalla had only ever seen royalty exude. Vhalla swung wide, and Elecia gave a small jab to her open shoulder. She took a step back and stared at Elecia.
Vhalla blinked in shock that she hadn’t put it together sooner. She had no proof, but something in her gut told her she was not wrong. The rumors of her being in the palace, the casual attitude toward royalty, it all made sense. Only people who came from wealth and affluence acted the way Elecia did. As if the world was a toy for her entertainment.
“What is it?” Elecia asked. “Giving up already?”
Vhalla returned to her assault. “Elecia.” She threw a punch, the other woman dodged. “Tell me—how old—were you—when you—first came—to the palace?” Her words were punctuated with her fists.
Elecia took a step back and paused. “What are you talking about?” The woman arched an eyebrow.
“Was it for a gala? Or was your father or mother on official business?”
Elecia’s eyes widened, and Vhalla resumed the attack. The woman recovered slowly and her blocks were suddenly sloppy. “Did you sleep in a guest suite?” She threw right. “Or did your family stay somewhere else in the upper part of town?”
An annoyed frown crossed Elecia’s lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you’re an awful liar,” Vhalla spat back.
Elecia looked at her in shock. “What about you, Vhalla Yarl? How exactly did you, less than a slip of a common girl, catch the eye of the crown prince? A nothing like you fraternizing with him!”
That got Aldrik’s attention. He quickly approached from where Larel and Fritz sparred.
“You have to know that you don’t deserve even—”
Vhalla lunged with a shout, not letting Elecia finish another wounding word. Elecia dodged easily and put a fist in Vhalla’s stomach. The woman’s arm felt like a rock sinking into her abdomen, and Vhalla wheezed for air instead of crying out.
“Elecia!” Aldrik shouted as Vhalla doubled over, holding her stomach and coughing. He quickly crossed the remaining gap, standing between the two women.
“You think that—” Elecia cast a finger in Vhalla’s direction, “—will ever be anything?” She threw her head back and laughed.
“Elecia, stop this,” Aldrik growled.
“Oh yes, defend your pet,” she sneered back.
Larel and Fritz stared in shock.
“Elecia,” he ground out through grit teeth, his hands balled into fists.
“Are you finally going to fight me? I’ve been waiting for a real challenge.” The dark-skinned woman said, putting her fists up. “It’s been far too long since we last went a round.”
Vhalla managed to tilt back onto her feet, still holding her stomach as it spasmed in pain.
Aldrik stomped over to Elecia and grabbed her by the collar of her plate. He jerked her to him and leaned in to place his face right in front of hers. “If you want me to spar with you like an adult, acting like a petulant child is not going to yield results, ‘Cia.”
Elecia pushed him away with a frown and a shake of her head. “Fine,” she said with a glint in her eye. “You continue to play your games with them, Aldrik,” she spat back.
Vhalla felt her mouth drop open in shock at the other woman’s use of Aldrik’s name.
“But—I will tell you again—that lowborn bitch isn’t worth an ounce of what you give her.” Elecia turned and stomped through the forest noisily. The brush and trees shrunk around her before curling back even more overgrown and thorny than before.
Aldrik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving himself a moment before turning and kneeling in front of Vhalla. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. Her stomach still felt like it was turned inside-out. Fritz and Larel hovered a few feet away from them in obvious uncertainty.
“Let me see.” The prince reached out, and Vhalla removed her hand. It hurt to straighten her back. “Take off your armor,” Aldrik ordered, and she began to fuss with the latches up the front. “Here,” he said softly and reached out, helping her from the bottom. Vhalla hunched her shoulders, let her hair fall in front of her face, and hid her shame.
Aldrik took her scale from her; a few of the small plates were dented around the abdomen.
He sighed audibly. “I will fix this tonight, and have it to you by morning.”
She looked down at her chain; it appeared to be undamaged. There was a moment of silence and a soft night breeze ruffled her hair. Aldrik reached out and clasped a hand over her shoulder.