“How did you know this was here?” she asked.
“I don’t enjoy feeling like I could be trapped somewhere. We stayed at this hotel at the start of the war, and I’ve insisted on it ever since after the owner showed this to me,” Aldrik explained as they reached the ground floor. “Six,” he affirmed.
She nodded.
“Be sharp, I’m the only one who can open this door.”
“I’ll be here, I promise.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Take care, lest I have to burn the Crossroads to the ground in a rage.”
Vhalla laughed softly, very well realizing that it may not entirely be a jest. She grinned up at him playfully. “Take care yourself, lest I have to blow the Crossroads away in a rage.” She was rewarded for her cheekiness with his laugher and another firm kiss.
Aldrik placed his palm on the door and pushed. Vhalla realized the truth of what he said earlier as the metal where a lock or knob should be began to melt around his hand. The molten metal parted and the door swung open. Vhalla stepped into the light beyond. She said nothing and he gave her a nod, closing the door that looked like the stone of the outside wall.
Vhalla waited a moment, her head reeling from all that had happened. Taking a breath, she turned and started the walk through the alleyways around the building and back to the main square. Somewhere along the way she found herself unable to contain giddy laughter.
Her hotel’s lobby was quiet, and Vhalla was thankful she could sneak up the stairs and into her room. Vhalla turned around the door, leaning against it with a blissful sigh. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake.
“Fritz, get up; she’s back.” Larel stirred.
“What are you two doing here?” Vhalla blinked at the two people occupying her bed.
“Fritz, up.” Larel shoved at the man sleeping next to her.
“Larel, nooo ...” Fritz pulled the covers over his head.
“She’s back,” Larel hissed.
Fritz was suddenly also sitting at attention.
“Good morning, Fritz, Larel,” Vhalla greeted them like a girl caught out late by her parents.
Fritz was across the room in a moment, his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you ‘good morning’ me.” He peered at her. “You were out all night! We were worried!”
Well, that explained why they had decided to occupy her room. “I’m sorry,” she said honestly.
“We couldn’t even ask someone because, well, we didn’t know if ...” Fritz glanced back to Larel.
“If you stayed with him,” Larel finished.
Fritz gaped at the Western woman but then turned back to Vhalla with a nod. “So?” Fritz asked.
Even Larel examined her quizzically.
Vhalla sighed. It wasn’t that she had never planned on telling them, or that she hadn’t expected them to find out, but it felt like half the world had discovered her secret within the first few hours of it happening. “Yes, I did.”
Fritz squeaked. He seemed to vibrate with excitement. “Tell—us—everything.” He punctuated his words, making each a demand.
“She doesn’t have to tell us anything,” Larel scolded. He whimpered at the other woman.
“I’m sorry for making you worry, foremost,” Vhalla apologized. “It kind of just, happened ... obviously.” Fritz’s excitement put the giddy feeling back in her chest. “There’s not much to tell, though. We didn’t ...” Vhalla blushed, realizing what people would likely think. “We didn’t even share a bed.” It was a half-truth, they didn’t share a bed for the whole night but she had fallen asleep in his arms and woke up with him next to her.
“Elecia?” Fritz asked.
Vhalla shook her head. “Elecia Ci’Dan is his half-Northern, half-Western, cousin. Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris,” Vhalla explained. If her face had looked anything like theirs at the revelation of that fact then it was no wonder Aldrik had gained amusement from it.
“Of course,” Larel groaned and put her face into her hands. “We’re so dumb.”
“So then, if you didn’t share his bed ... what did you do?” Fritz seemed genuinely confused.
“He worked, some magic,” Vhalla outlined vaguely.
“You’re adorable,” Larel said knowingly, earning a look from her and Fritz. “You’re going back tonight, aren’t you?”
“How did you ...?” Vhalla wondered if the woman was psychic.
“You are?” Fritz asked, dumbstruck. Vhalla could only blush. “By the Mother, this is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of ! Prince Aldrik? The Fire Lord? The black prince? He whose temper is short and his wrath is long?”
“And your point is?” Vhalla peered at him.
“He’s acting like a normal man!” Fritz laughed.
Even Larel found a conspiratorial smile. Vhalla hid her face, embarrassed.
Vhalla avoided filling them in on many more details. She’d already inadvertently revealed more than she intended, and she wanted some things kept private. They spared her further inquiry and kept Vhalla company as she filled her pack with a few things for the night.
Hours later, and Vhalla was slipping back into a side alley off a cart path. She glanced about—not a soul was nearby. Vhalla’s heart beat nervously as she prayed that she arrived early enough and hadn’t missed him.
The passage entry swung open and Aldrik wore an excited grin. Vhalla slipped inside and he closed the door, welding it shut. Vhalla placed her hands on his hips and leaned up. He obliged, tilting his head down. Kissing him enflamed a hunger that had been growing throughout the day. Now that she had him, all she wanted was him. Her need was insatiable.
The crown prince sighed softly into her mouth, a deep noise rumbling the back of his throat that she hungrily consumed. Vhalla moved her hands to his neck and he eagerly scooped her up. Vhalla tried to use the passion-heat between them to fuse their bodies from hips to chest. Aldrik clutched her tighter, his fingertips pressing against her woolen tunic as if to bore holes in pursuit of her skin. Vhalla’s lips parted slightly, but he pulled away quickly with a shake of his head.
“We can’t.” His voice was deliciously thick, making her want to be all the closer to him. “Not right now. I have someone I want you to meet.”
Vhalla’s curiosity hid the resentment for having to stop what they had started. Aldrik intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked up the stairs.
“I want you to know,” he said softly, “I trust him completely, so don’t fret. I would’ve told you earlier, but his presence was a surprise for me also.” He didn’t give her a chance to ask who he was talking about as Aldrik pushed open the portal to his room.
Vhalla stepped in first, tentatively. She set her bag next to the hidden door as Aldrik settled it back into place. Vhalla scanned the room, her gaze falling on a man sitting on the couch in its center. There were papers and ledgers spread out on the table, and Vhalla could instantly tell the chaise Aldrik had occupied by the gold-tipped quill and ink that sat out without an owner.
The man stood, and Vhalla brought her hands together, pulling at her fingers. He was as tall as, or maybe even a little taller than, Aldrik. His black hair was cut very short and it seemed to spike up slightly in odd directions. He had a closely trimmed dark beard that ran along his jawline and up his chin to his lower lip. None of this was what startled her though. His eyes were like looking into a mirror image of a very familiar set that she was particularly fond of.
Aldrik walked behind her, placing a palm on the small of her back to help her find her feet again. The man studied her with a guarded gaze as she rounded the bar and crossed the room over to the sitting area. Aldrik held out a hand in the man’s direction.
“Vhalla, meet Ophain Ci’Dan, my mother’s brother and Lord of the West.”
She glanced between the men; Aldrik had a relaxed smile, the other man continued to assess her with interest.