“I’ve not had a real pillow to sleep on in over a month,” she reminded him, sitting.
“So take one.” He shrugged, placing a small sack on the table.
“I cannot take your pillow.” Vhalla accepted a roll he handed her.
“Why not?”
“Oh yes, by the way, the Crown Prince Aldrik gave me a pillow. That’s normal right?” Vhalla rolled her eyes.
“I hear it is all the rage for ladies’ gift-giving in the East. You mean to tell me my sources are incorrect?” Aldrik grinned.
“Oh cute.”
Vhalla grabbed one of the pillows in question and threw it in his face. It hit him square and the prince stared at her. For a moment Vhalla felt her nerves take over.
“You just assaulted the crown prince.” He glared, but she saw the tell-tale glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Vhalla, I think that violates the terms of your probation.”
“Oh? Tell me what will you do to me?” She did her best to imitate one of his trademark smirks, and she was rewarded by the spark turning to a fire in his eyes.
“I could think of quite a few things to do to you.” His voice was gravely and deep, and Vhalla felt a flush rise to her cheeks.
Not having a good response, she took a bite of her bread and filled the silence with chewing. He chuckled and shook his head. Vhalla finished her roll, and he passed her a bladder of water. Vhalla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, considering the prince.
“You’re really nothing like they said,” she mused. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. Vhalla grabbed one of the smaller scraps of meat from the bag and chewed thoughtfully. “Everyone, who ever said anything about you. It was warnings, caution.” Vhalla tilted her head, thinking back. “When I had lunch with your brother, he said he saved me from you, that you’d eat me alive.” She gave a small laugh and a grin, but it quickly fell from her face as she saw him tense.
“I am sure my brother would be more than happy to save anyone from me.” Aldrik balled a hand into a fist.
“I don’t believe them.” Vhalla hoped that much was obvious.
“I know.” His voice was faint, and Aldrik avoided her gaze. “But they are right, you know. I’m not a good person to be around.”
Vhalla frowned, quickly gulping down the last of her food. She shifted closer to him, leaning over to put her face in front of his, searching his features thoughtfully. “No more of that, okay?” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you say the word.”
His lips parted slightly as his jaw went slack. “It’s late.”
“It is,” she agreed.
The silence that settled over them was an odd mix of comfortable and painful. Vhalla found her heart trying hard to escape her chest. Hesitantly, she reached out. Her fingertips brushed lightly against his knuckles. He held her gaze, and she closed her fingers around his.
“You should go,” he breathed. There was a tension there that Vhalla had never heard before.
“I should,” she agreed.
Neither of them moved.
“Vhalla,” Aldrik whispered. Her name strained against his lips, and she found some part of her relishing the sound.
“Aldrik?” she replied in kind.
He squeezed her hand fiercely a moment, and she held her breath. But as he relinquished his hold, she felt the insanity that had overcome them in that brief exchange dissipating into the air. “I will ride with you tomorrow,” he promised. “Don’t ride with anyone else. Stay by my side.”
Vhalla nodded. “I will. I promise.”
Aldrik helped her to her feet, and she stood facing him, her fingers still in his. Slowly he raised her knuckles to his face and gently pressed his lips against them. His mouth was soft and the heat of his breath sent a small shiver down her spine.
Vhalla put on her boots and crossed the few steps to the entrance of the tent and stopped, turning. “Aldrik, tomorrow.” Vhalla paused, the words sticking to the inside of her throat, she swallowed hard to free them. “Will all this be a dream?” His brow furrowed a moment. “The next time we meet, will it be as though none of this happened?”
“Of course it will be,” he said very matter of fact. Vhalla felt her chest tighten. Aldrik crossed the distance between them and placed his palm under her ear, his fingers wrapping around the back of her neck. He leaned in close and she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. “To everyone else, of course it will be.”
“To us?” Vhalla didn’t know how a begging tone had slipped into her voice.
“For us, it is waiting four more days until we practice your Projection again.”
She smiled faintly in relief, hoping she understood his meaning correctly. “Until then.”
“Until then.” He straightened and pulled back the tent flap to allow Vhalla to disappear into the cool night.
Her stomach was nothing but butterflies, and she suppressed a strange noise of elation as she walked back to her tent. Vhalla had never known a feeling quite like this before, and she found she enjoyed the bubbles it put in her blood. Four more days; it was far better than a month. Vhalla cupped one hand over the other, feeling phantom lips upon her skin.
Aldrik had been right, it was late. Most of the fires burned low and were located toward the center of camp. Along the edge there were few people. She made it far enough away from Aldrik’s tent before someone noticed that her presence could have been a result of any number of reasons. The quiet night began to subdue her as she neared her tent with every step. She needed to apologize to Larel.
Larel was curled up in her bedroll, and she made no motion as Vhalla changed silently. The air was cool against Vhalla’s bare skin as she undid the bindings she had begun to wear over her breasts to prevent uncomfortable chaffing in her armor. Vhalla’s mind instantly thought back to the prince’s warmth, and it sent a chill of a different kind through her. She sighed as she crawled into the scratchy wool of her blanket.
Vhalla had been content to let things with Larel go until the morning. But the Western woman had only been feigning sleep, and Vhalla was quickly locked into a staring contest. Larel regarded her thoughtfully and allowed the silence to stretch on until it was clear that she was waiting on Vhalla.
“I’m sorry for making you set up the tent alone today.” Vhalla’s ears burned with embarrassment.
“That was no trouble.”
That wasn’t, but how Vhalla had acted was. “I’m sorry also for snapping at you.” She did her best to keep eye contact with Larel, but shame eventually won out and Vhalla avoided the other woman’s gaze. “I didn’t mean it, I was just, I was exhausted and—” Vhalla swallowed her stalling “—Larel, you’re my friend. I couldn’t have done this without you. I wouldn’t have survived this long without you.”
Vhalla choked on emotion. It was true. If it weren’t for everything Larel had done and was continuing to do for her, Vhalla would have been alone. Sure, Aldrik was helping her and he could bring Vhalla as much joy as he could frustration. But things were strange there, because of their own hesitations and the world’s expectations. In comparison, the bond Larel had built with Vhalla was perfectly simple.
Larel’s hand closed around Vhalla’s tightly. “Don’t think on it any longer,” Larel said finally. “I forgive you.”
Vhalla took a shaky breath, clinging to Larel’s palm.
“You are more than a protégé to me, you know. You are a dear friend.” The Western woman ran a hand through Vhalla’s hair lovingly. “I don’t have many friends.”
“I never did either,” Vhalla laughed weakly.
“Aldrik was one of my first friends.” The prince’s name from anyone’s mouth gained Vhalla’s attention, and Larel said it even more easily than Vhalla could. “You shared your secret with the prince. I’ll share mine.”
“You don’t have to.” Vhalla could sense an unfamiliar aura around Larel, one of discomfort.
“I know.” The woman smiled. “But I want you to know I trust you as you trust me.” Larel shifted, her eyes growing distant. “I suppose nothing will make sense unless I start at the very beginning. I came from a very poor family in a small town called Qui.”