“When?” Aldrik’s expression darkened.
“After my day at court.” Vhalla launched into a quick recount of the evening, ending with the princess’s suggestion that Vhalla help them escape after killing the Emperor.
“We expected this.” Aldrik began to pace. “I’ll have to shift the guards on her room, change the watch patterns so she can’t learn them.” He paused, as if remembering Vhalla was there. “Why did you tell me this?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You, of all people, should hate my father,” Aldrik pointed out.
“I do,” Vhalla had no hesitation in affirming such. Her bluntness brought some amusement to Aldrik’s expression. “But I’m tired of the bloodshed. If she kills your father, then she’ll be put to death, and it’ll likely spark a rebellion in the North. You’ll be forced to subdue them because the only other alternative to appease them, possibly, would be letting the North go from the Empire. That may cause a different sort of civil war from people who would rebel against freeing them after so many lives were lost to bring Shaldan into the Empire.”
He watched her with sorrow that matched what she felt in her heart.
“It’s why she must be the future Empress . . . There isn’t another way now that doesn’t end in blood.”
The truth they both were loath to admit was out, and now they had no choice but to face it. Whatever Aldrik had been playing at was nothing more than a fool’s dream. It was the same dream they’d indulged in during the war in the North. Vhalla knew how quickly it could become a nightmare and had no desire to linger over it further.
“Speaking of Northern rebellions,” Aldrik paused, clearly struggling with his words as he became suddenly uncomfortable. “The axe, the one Sehra asked for . . .”
Vhalla dreaded what Aldrik was about to ask her next, so much so that her skin crawled.
“You have it, don’t you?”
“How do you know?” Vhalla breathed. She heard it in his tone, the way he asked, and the way he moved. The question was only a formality, as he already knew the truth.
Aldrik frowned and cursed slightly under his breath. “Does anyone else know?”
“Yes.” She braced herself for what she expected would devolve into a fiery confrontation.
“Who?”
“Daniel was there when I found it in the North,” she confessed.
“Daniel?” Aldrik said the name as though it was sour on his tongue. “My brother’s Easterner?”
She nodded.
“You and he . . .” Aldrik looked at her hopelessly.
Vhalla fought to suppress her instinctive response that Daniel and she were nothing more than friends. Maybe it was better if Aldrik believed her heart could belong to another.
“Never mind,” he muttered. “Does anyone else know?”
“Victor.” She was in too deep to hold anything back.
Aldrik pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Vhalla affirmed with a nod.
“Baldair’s Easterner.” Vhalla noticed that Aldrik wouldn’t use his name. “Will he tell anyone?”
“He hasn’t told a soul so far; I don’t know why he would now.”
“Pleasure, pain, power—men have many motivators.” Aldrik ran a hand over his hair. “Daniel won’t,” she insisted.
“I leave him to you, then.” Aldrik glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. She let her expression betray nothing. “I’ll take care of Victor.”
“Do you trust him?” Vhalla asked quickly.
“Victor? I do,” Aldrik affirmed. “He was my mentor. We went through a lot together.”
Vhalla bit her lip and refrained from bringing up the crystals. Aldrik had been fairly level-headed throughout it all, surprisingly so. But she knew there were some things that would likely trigger his anger. And now that she knew more of his history, she could see why crystals may be one such thing.
“Aldrik.” She jarred him from his planning once more. “How did you know I had the axe?” Vhalla had a few theories, and the prince was quick to prove them all wrong.
“The Bond.”
“What?” The explanation made no sense.
“Think, Vhalla. What is the Bond?” He crossed to her once more, waiting for her to put it together, acting the teacher he had once been.
“It’s a Channel between us . . .” She shuddered in horror, looking up at the dark eyed prince. “An open Channel. Then you . . .” Vhalla couldn’t bring herself to say it. The guilt was suddenly too overwhelming.
“I know what the early stages of Crystal taint feels like,” he whispered solemnly.
Vhalla moved without thinking. She grabbed his hands in hers, clutching them tightly and assuaging the need to feel him, to hold onto and protect the man before her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he smiled tiredly at her, squeezing her hands in reply. “I’m fine.”
She was suddenly too close again, so she quickly withdrew. The man was a dark star, brilliant and terrifying, and she was constantly being pulled into his gravity. “I should go.”
“Must you?” Aldrik couldn’t keep the frown from tugging down his lips.
“Yes,” she insisted.
“When will I see you again?”
“You know we can’t make a habit of this,” Vhalla cautioned.
Aldrik opened his mouth, and she felt his protest. But he quickly caught himself. “I can’t sleep, you know I can’t. Most nights I’m in the Tower library.”
“It was you?”
“Me, what?” Aldrik clearly didn’t understand.
“Never mind.” She didn’t want to explain how she’d seen his firelight on more than one occasion.
Silence settled upon them. It was the calm lurking at the edge of a raging storm that would be there for as long as they lived, threatening to swallow them whole. Vhalla moved to the door. It was time to leave. They’d run out of “business” and any continued interaction now would be a dangerous indulgence in pleasure.
“Vhalla,” Aldrik stopped her one last time. He crossed over to her, holding her in place with his stare. Vhalla swallowed a dry throat as Aldrik rummaged through his pocket. “You’re better than the cutthroats my brother tries to pass as soldiers. Don’t let them surprise you again.”
Vhalla laughed softly at the small vial in his palm. “Thank you.”
His hand closed around hers as she retrieved the vial. “No, thank you.” Aldrik opened and closed his mouth, searching for words. “For never giving up on me.”
“I left you,” Vhalla blurted.
“But you didn’t give up on me.” Aldrik paused, giving her an opportunity to object.
Vhalla stayed quiet. “I never could, even when I was as angry as I was that day.” She gave him a small smile, which he returned in full. Vhalla resisted the urge to kiss him, then stepped away. Aldrik’s eyes followed her as she slipped back out into the night.
Vhalla created pockets of air beneath her feet and walked her hands up the wall to scale back up to the window she’d left cracked open. Vhalla waited, watching the prince leave a short time later through the iron gate that led into the Imperial quarters. No one noticed her on the way back, and Vhalla downed the clerical potion for the bruise on her shoulder before crawling into her bed alone just before dawn.
She didn’t bother with bathing or changing clothes. In her mind, she made the excuse she was too tired. But the truth was her heart wanted to have the scent of roses on her skin for just a little longer.
VHALLA’S EYES WERE fixated on the axe. She sat in her usual chair, and Victor was fixing his usual tea. But her attention remained solely on the weapon as he went about his business.
“Vhalla.”
Could she continue going on as she had been? Aldrik was in the forefront of her thoughts.