“Shut up,” Elecia said sharply. “Just shut up, I won’t tolerate you feeling sorry for yourself and moping around. Aldrik, god knows what will happen to him when he gets back to the capital, if we get back. After how he left, I have no idea what the Emperor will do.”
Vhalla stared at where Aldrik and the princess had departed. What would the Emperor think?
Elecia started on her bandages in heavy silence. They fell away, and Vhalla followed the woman’s eyes to her chest. The moment softened as Elecia’s fingers fell on the hideous deformity that now marred Vhalla’s skin. “It’s going to stay.”
Vhalla swallowed hard.
“Healing you with magic alone wasn’t very graceful, and we do not have any proper potions or salves. It’s hard to make them when every plant is covered in snow.” Elecia actually sounded somewhat apologetic. “It is healing . . . I will do my best to leave you with as small a mark as possible.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for doing everything you have already.” Vhalla had learned to live with scars. “It will remind me what I work toward now. It will be my badge and my mission.”
Elecia stilled. “What do you think you can possibly do?”
“A wise man once told me that something very small can cast a large shadow when it’s close to the sun.” Vhalla cast her heart in stone, her mind already churning around her next move. She pushed the loss of her magic down into the depths of her heart. There was no solution for that pain and she would just have to smother it until it died. She had an Emperor and a madman to deal with. But first, she’d start with the princess in the other room.
THE CHAREM FAMILY home was a well-sized log construction. The tall pines dictated the dimensions of the structure more than any architectural plans the original builder may have created. One third was a loft, with a private room below that normally belonged to Fritz’s parents; that is, until the random assortment of nobility showed up on their doorstep. The family had lived there for over four generations, and each person to inherit the house seemed to add their own touch. The first person built the home, the second added the insulating mud and clay mix between the logs, the third added a wooden shingled roof, the fourth added the wooden floor inside, and so on.
That was how Fritz’s father explained it. Orelerienum Charem, Orel for short, was a large and muscled man. His bicep was wider than Vhalla’s thigh. He had broad shoulders and weathered skin with smile wrinkles around his Southern blue eyes. His hair was cropped short, but Vhalla did not have to wonder who Fritz inherited his wild locks from.
Tama Charem was a full figured woman with messy, light blonde hair. When it wasn’t in a thick braid down her back to her waist, it was a mane around her face and shoulders. She was a kind and generous hostess with a round face and melodic laughter that complemented her husband’s full-bellied guffaws.
“Gwen! Get up!” Cass, the eldest, called up to the loft. Her hair was short, cut like a man’s and she looked to be the female version of her father—sturdy and unmoving.
“She’s not getting up,” Reona, the third child, remarked from by the hearth. She was a pretty girl with a button nose and a faint dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “Not without food started.”
“She needs to help with that food!” Nia rolled her eyes. She was cutting some salted meat and root vegetables to be put into a large pot. Nia was the second youngest, and she had already hit her growth. All legs and arms, she was a slip of a girl with fantastically wild hair to her shoulders.
“Gwen, if you don’t get down here I’m gonna tan your hide, miss!” Tama called. “You know we have guests.” She looked back at Aldrik with a small, apologetic bow.
“Your hospitality is already more than enough,” Aldrik said gracefully from a chair at the end of the table where he sat.
Vhalla gave him a small smile. She knew this life must be very odd for him, but he handled it like a gracious ruler. Aldrik caught her eyes, and his lips curled into a small smile in return. Vhalla looked away quickly, frustrated that after all this time, her cheeks could still feel hot near this man. They both seemed to be on a mutual elation just at the sight of each other, especially after all that had occurred.
The feeling sobered when Vhalla’s eyes turned across the table, meeting the Northern princess’s. There were many words unsaid, and she couldn’t let the lull of normalcy distract them for too long. Vhalla caught the prince’s eyes once more, and he nodded in agreement, able to read her obvious thoughts.
As much as Vhalla wanted to just kick everyone out, she knew why it hadn’t been done yet. Fritz’s family remained oblivious to the real reasons why they had arrived, knowing nothing more than there were injuries in the party. Vhalla resented the girls slightly for their ability to remain ignorant of the horrors in the world, but not enough to want to shatter it for them.
“Fire is going,” Jax announced from the stone hearth that dominated a large portion of the wall to the left of the main entrance. He sauntered over to the table, leaning between Elecia and Nia. “My stunning lady, might there be the slightest thing I could do to assist you? I hate to see such beautiful hands being taxed with such labors.” Jax took the knife from the open-mouthed girl’s palm.
“I-I-hi, hi, how are you?” she stuttered dumbly. The girl clearly had limited experience with men, and encountering Jax was akin to being thrown into the deep end. “What’s your, name? Yes, that’s, something, forgot, what’s your name?” She smiled widely at the charming look Jax was giving her.
“My name.” His hand cupped her cheek boldly. “Fair lady is—”
“Jax!” Fritz snapped, carrying in a load of lumber from the yard. “Away from my sister!”
“I do not think your brother approves.” Jax grinned, passing the knife back to Nia.
“Let her be, Fritz.” Cass rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you’re around to protect her normally; she’s gotta learn.”
“And oh, the things I could teach her.” Jax snickered at Fritz.
“Jax!” Fritz practically jumped at the man.
“Fritter,” his father boomed with a laugh, scooping up the scrawny sorcerer with just his arm. “Leave the girls be.”
“I’m trying to help protect them!” Fritz frantically tried to keep the stack of cut wood in his hands as his father carried him, heavy load and all, over toward the hearth.
“Oh right, we need protecting?” Reona rolled her eyes as she helped with the lumber. They did not need wood to burn with sorcerers about, but Orel seemed to move out of habit. “Just like that time we got you out of the tree when you climbed too high up and wouldn’t stop crying?”
“I was five!” Fritz whined, his father putting him down.
“Or the time when you got stuck in the smokehouse playing hide and seek and wouldn’t stop wailing until Cass got you out?” Nia motioned with her knife at her brother.
Elecia sniggered, shooting Fritz a sideways glance.
“Let’s not forget, girls, the time he was so scared by a nightmare he wet—”
“Enough!” Fritz cut off his big sister with a red flush. “There’s a reason I don’t come home!”
“You love us.” Cass hooked her arm around Fritz’s neck and ruffled his hair.
“So you’re really the Windwalker?” Nia asked from her place by the hearth.
“Nia, that’s not—” Fritz was quick with an apologetic look directed at Vhalla.
“I was.” Vhalla attempted a brave smile. She had to brace herself to endure the wave of emotion that came with those words.
“Was?” Nia tilted her head. Cass began listening, too.
“There was an accident.” Vhalla raised a hand to her shoulder.