Текст книги "Fire Falling "

Автор книги: Elise Kova

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

THE SUN WAS setting over the rooftops of the Crossroads. Vhalla raised her hands to his face. Aldrik leaned into her, took them in his, and kissed her palms lightly. She whispered to him and he whispered back, the words which she had been longing to hear. She shifted closer to him, his lips parted.

Then Vhalla was only watching, Elecia’s beautifully long fingers were across the pale of his face. They leaned closer, and Vhalla let out a cry.

She gasped in the night air, waking with a start. Vhalla looked around frantically, remembering where she was. Daniel was fast asleep in the chair Larel had previously occupied. The Westerner and Fritz were still out eating dinner, oblivious to Vhalla’s shattering world, and Daniel had refused to leave her alone. Vhalla collapsed back onto her pillow, forcing her eyes closed.

The next time, her hands were his. The fingertips ran over a shadowed face in the dark. She couldn’t make out the features but Vhalla knew they were not her own. Were they Elecia’s? Her mind wandered while trapped in the prison of the dream. Her heart beat fast and she felt blood shifting its attention. There was a carnal desire it wanted to attend to.

Vhalla rolled over and opened her eyes, staring blankly at the wall. She whimpered softly and pulled the blankets over her head.

She ran through streets of fire and death. The bodies were already mutilated, their battered limbs and shattered skulls littering the ground. Vhalla sprinted through the streets, through the shadow people. Tonight, tonight she would be fast enough, her feet told her, and she allowed the wind to pick up beneath her.

Vhalla came to a skidding halt before the demolished building and she tore at the debris. Each rock that moved made her heart beat a little faster. Eventually she saw a face beneath the rubble. Vhalla paused; he wasn’t supposed to be there. She tore away the remaining remnants and took Aldrik’s body into her arms, weeping.

She awoke for a third time, and then a fourth and a fifth. Her mind was too heavily armed with the stuff of nightmares. Daniel was gone, and she heard talking muffled through the door. Vhalla instantly recognized one voice as Larel’s and waited for the other woman to slip silently into the room.

“Larel,” she whispered weakly, feeling the bed shift to accommodate the new person.

“What happened?” Larel ran her hands through Vhalla’s hair lovingly.

“Aldrik—” Vhalla choked on his name. “He and Elecia ... they ...”

“They what?” Larel coaxed gently.

Vhalla recounted the events from earlier in the evening, and Larel listened dutifully. She said nothing, good or bad, absorbing the whole story. Vhalla broke down again when she retold the moment of seeing Elecia and Aldrik together.

“I know she’s noble. The way she acts around him, the way she calls him by his name ... There’s something there, Larel. I just—I didn’t want to see it.” Vhalla sniffled loudly.

“She is,” Larel said softly.

“She is what?” Vhalla rubbed her eyes.

“She’s noble,” Larel confirmed.

“What?” Vhalla stilled. “How can you be certain?”

Larel sighed and averted her eyes. Whatever she was about to say Vhalla knew she wouldn’t like. “She didn’t start coming around until he was older. During the few years we were very distant from each other. He spent a lot of time with her, when she was around. I didn’t remember until I heard the reception for her here in the Crossroads. She’s a Ci’Dan, a noble family from the West with ties to the crown. I never really studied history—that’s Fritz’s area—but I always assumed she was a potential bride, given his age when she appeared.”

“You knew.” Betrayal was a hot poison. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“Vhalla, listen,” Larel demanded, pinning her to the bed with an arm. “Listen.”

Vhalla stopped fighting, but that didn’t stop the anger pulsing through her veins. The world was out to lie and cheat her; maybe Prince Baldair was right.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t believe—I still don’t believe—that you have anything to worry about.”

“How can you say that? She’s a noble woman, she’s known him for years—I saw them together!”

“Hush.” Larel tried to calm Vhalla’s hysterics. “When you are together, Aldrik looks for you, only for you.”

“He spent a lot of time with her.”

“He did,” Larel conceded. “But he never looked at her the way he looks at you. He never reached for her the way he reaches for you. Vhalla, Aldrik cares for you deeply, I know he does.”

“You don’t know anything,” Vhalla mumbled.

Larel just sighed and rubbed Vhalla’s back as the younger woman cried softly.

Vhalla was shocked later when a messenger brought her an Imperial summons. It was a tri-folded card sealed with the blazing sun of the Empire in black wax.

“Are you going to open it?” Larel asked after Vhalla’s tenth lap of the room.

“I will,” she said with false confidence.

“Today?” Larel had the audacity to tease her.

Vhalla shot the other woman a glare, and Larel was only moderately apologetic. The Westerner hadn’t changed her tune that Aldrik had no interest in Elecia.

“I will,” Vhalla repeated, placing her finger under the seal. She took a breath and unfolded the note before her hands dropped it from shaking so much. “Your presence is requested,” she read aloud. “Prince Aldrik C. Solaris.”

“That’s it?” Even Larel seemed surprised.

“It’s better this way.” Vhalla threw the note onto her pack, rummaging through the clothes on the floor that had never made it into drawers. “It is. I’ll go and tell him I know everything.”

“Vhalla,” Larel sighed.

“We can stop this sham, and I’ll just do what I need to for my freedom,” Vhalla vowed, tugging on a clean shirt and leggings.

They walked down the stairs in silence, Larel seeing her out of the inn and all the way to the fancy hotel where the Imperial family was staying. Vhalla spent the walk attempting to shield her heart as much as possible. She imagined each rib a barbed wall that nothing could enter into or get out of. She would do whatever Aldrik and the Emperor needed, and then she would go. She didn’t even want to bring up what she’d seen. It wasn’t her business after all; she had trespassed on his privacy.

By the time Vhalla arrived at the glittering building on the main square, she had scripted and repeated so many conversations in her head that she felt prepared for every possible outcome. No matter what, she would keep it together and leave as quickly as possible. Yet none of this stopped her heart from threatening to burst out of its thorny cage as she pushed open the door, leaving Larel behind.

“How may I assist?” the woman behind the desk asked stiffly.

“I’ve an appointment with the crown prince.” Vhalla didn’t allow herself to say his name. “Vhalla Yarl, the Windwalker.”

The woman pulled out the same ledger as the man from the night before and ran her finger down the pages. “Ah yes. Go ahead—second floor, right wing,” the woman instructed needlessly. Vhalla had already started up the stairs.

Each step coincided with the pounding in her ears. Every scrap of common sense screamed for her to leave a message that she was indisposed. But she knew she could only run so long. In four more days they would be riding together, with Elecia too.

Vhalla paused and took a deep breath, focusing only on the sound of the air moving. She could do this.

Arriving at the landing, she stilled. Vhalla shook away the image of Elecia and Aldrik standing in the night and proceeded to the door. With the last of her resolve, she gave a few short knocks.

It was a tense minute as she waited; she was fully prepared to make a hasty retreat and explain she thought he was out. The door handle turned. Aldrik stood against the colored light of large stained glass circles that dominated the wall opposite the door. He wore a black leather jacket that went to his knees with a single line of gold buttons opened at the collared white cotton shirt underneath. Well-fitted trousers fell straight to bare feet, Vhalla noted curiously. His hair was fixed again, and just the sight of him was painful because it now contrasted so sharply from the disheveled man who had been woken from sleep, likely from lying in the arms of his lover.

“Hello, Vhalla.” He seemed as happy to see her as she was him.

“My prince,” Vhalla glanced away, unable to keep eye contact any longer.

“Come in.” He took a step back and turned.

Vhalla let herself into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

It was an astounding space. High ceilings with mosaics of classic stories along with some characters Vhalla had never before seen. There was a large sitting area with two lounging chaises that faced a large couch, a table between them. A stocked bar dominated the wall to the left of the door—Vhalla instantly wished for something strong—and a large standing table with all manner of papers and uncorked bottles was to the right. To her left was a wall with open sliding doors that revealed an additional room with a large bed covered in blankets and pillows. Perhaps the most astounding feature was a window, which was one she had seen from the square. It was big enough that pillows were piled up on the windowsill, and it looked like it could easily seat four.

Vhalla took another tentative step, instantly uncomfortable being in his space. She couldn’t help but look at the bed, wondering if Elecia had shared it with him the night before. Aldrik had crossed to the table and was shuffling the papers.

“You are quiet.” He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, unsure of what else to say.

“Sit,” he ordered curtly.

Vhalla waded through the tension between them, nearly drowning before she managed to sit on one of the chaises. Aldrik found the paper he was looking for, placing it on the lower table before the couch as he sat opposite her. They stared at each other, waiting for someone to say the first word. Vhalla swallowed.

“This is for the demonstration? For your father?” Work, she had to stick to work.

“What else would it be for?” he mumbled, the words like needles.

“Of course,” Vhalla replied weakly.

“My father will want us to play a game of scavenger hunt.” Aldrik looked at the paper as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Based off what I told him you are able to do at present, first he will have you Project to a person who will tell you a location and an item. You will return to me and direct me to something—unknown to me at the start of the demonstration—based on the instructions.”

“It seems simple enough.” She nodded.

“Does it?” Aldrik arched an eyebrow at her.

Vhalla shifted under his skepticism. “We’ve been doing things like this for weeks.”

“What exactly have we been doing, Vhalla?” Aldrik’s voice was void of any familiar warmth.

She didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t asking about the Projection, he was asking about the dance they’d been doing around something both of them had been too terrified to name. Now, it felt like he was accusing her.

“Never mind.” Aldrik stood. “Do not answer that. I already know.”

“What?” She was on her feet also. “What do you think you know?”

“You think I would not find out?” He glared at her.

“Find out what?” Vhalla’s voice had a shrill edge from the tension his eyes evoked in her.

“You are not the first one who has used me to get to him.” Aldrik looked away in disgust.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Baldair.”

Vhalla’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”

“I caught you both together last night, your hand in his.” Aldrik drew his height, his body language was imposing.

“My hand in his?” Vhalla balked. “You mean him grabbing my wrist? Him holding me in place so that I’d be forced to witness you and Elecia?” she accused, pointing at the crown prince.

“Elecia?” Aldrik seemed to forget the other woman was even with him the night before.

“Were you even going to tell me?” Vhalla’s lower lip quivered, and she swore she would not lose it, she wouldn’t cry in front of him.

“What does Elecia have to do with this?” Confusion eased his shoulders.

“No.” Vhalla shook her head. “No more, I can’t. I’m done.” She turned, starting for the door.

“Vhalla!” he snapped. “You asked me for no secrets, for the truth, and you’re turning your back on me?” Aldrik chuckled darkly. “The irony of that.”

“The truth?” She stopped, only ten paces from the door. She should just leave. But something made her turn. She stared at him in hopelessness. It would all be better if he’d just admit it. “The truth is ... the truth is ...” Something in her snapped. “The truth is that every time I close my eyes all I see is you and her!” Vhalla’s voice broke halfway through and she threw her arms up in defeat. The tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed, keeping them at bay.

“Why?” Aldrik took a step toward her.

“Because—you know why!” Was he really going to make her say it?

“Why would you care about Elecia if you desire my brother?” His voice was losing its edge, his probing becoming more exploratory over jabbing.

“Aldrik,” Vhalla covered her eyes with her palm. “You are a fool.” She gave him a defeated laugh. “I don’t want your brother, my dear Prince Aldrik C. Solaris. Not every creature with breasts thinks Prince Baldair is a god among men.”

“Then why, why do you care?” He took another step closer. Vhalla opened her mouth and shut it, turning for the door. “Tell me, why does Elecia matter?” Aldrik grabbed her elbow, stopping her from fleeing from the room.

“What does she matter?” Vhalla wasn’t sure if she had ever met a man who could be so astonishingly smart about seemingly everything and yet so daft about the person whom he was supposed to be more connected with than anyone in the world. She twisted to face him, tearing her arm from his grasp. “She matters the same as titles do. The same as my birth and yours does. The same way it matters why your brother insists on tormenting me with awful stories about you.”

“Stop avoiding my question!” he demanded.

“I am not!” The last of her resolve shattered and her control slipped away. Tears were going to fall at any moment, and if the two of them were going to break they may as well shatter. “I love you, Aldrik!”

Her voice echoed on the shockwaves that shook them both. Vhalla’s palm clamped over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it, and Vhalla stared at him wide eyed. She watched his face closely. She witnessed the words settle in on him, the shock that started in his eyes, raised his eyebrows, and dropped his mouth open.

Vhalla’s heart raced, and she felt a soft whimper rise in her throat. She wanted him to say something, anything. If he would pass judgment she could leave and finally move on from all he was. She could leave his ink black hair and dark eyes behind. She could let his voice fade away from her dreams and let his form no longer haunt her in the daylight.

Aldrik’s mouth closed. He swallowed hard.

Vhalla couldn’t tolerate the silence any longer, and she grabbed for the door handle as though it was her only lifeline. She would walk away now, and let it all stay broken.

The prince had other plans, and he grabbed for her.

“Aldrik wh—” She half turned, and he spun her the rest of the way.

His hands released her arms and cupped her cheeks in a single fluid motion. Vhalla had only a half a second to register his face closing in on hers. She inhaled sharply at the shock of feeling his lips on her own. His scent, his breathing, the warmth of his palms, the feeling of his mouth, all assaulted her senses and Vhalla closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss.

VHALLA SIGHED SOFTLY, her mouth still gloriously occupied with his. Something audibly clicked back into place, and suddenly her head silenced the noise of the past few months. His palms were hot on her cheeks, and they stayed the tears that had so insistently found their way out seconds before. She felt him pull away slightly, but Vhalla pressed forward, stealing one more moment of his lips. Her eyes opened and met his. Despite being the initiator of the kiss, he looked as bewildered as she.

Still holding her face, Aldrik sighed softly and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching. “Say it again ...”

Vhalla closed her eyes. “I love you, Aldrik.” Saying it out loud, to him, sent sparks up her chest.

He pulled her face back to his, claiming her mouth again fiercely. Vhalla’s hands found their own life, meeting his fervor. They pressed against his chest, her palms running up to his shoulders. Vhalla buried her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck, itching to unravel his pristine visage. Her nails ran against his scalp, and his hands dropped from her face to her waist.

Aldrik pulled her closer and her arms bent. She felt her hips meet his, and her chest brush against the warm length of his body. Vhalla shivered—and he held her tighter. She broke the kiss for a moment, taking a shaky breath. Just as she opened her eyes, his mouth was on hers again and he annihilated her every thought with just his taste and touch.

The time that passed between them wasn’t nearly enough before she felt his neck push against her fingers and his lips pull away from hers. Vhalla resigned as gracefully as possible, barely restraining herself from clutching him and holding his mouth to hers forever.

Aldrik stared down in bewildered adoration; she’d never seen a flush to his cheeks before, but now it was a soft rosy color that looked almost healthy on the natural pallor of his skin. His lips parted and he breathed heavily. A hand shifted from her waist back to her face, and he stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

“Aldrik,” she whispered, her lips aflame. She still felt inebriated on his nearness; however, without the immediate distraction of his mouth, confusion began to slip back into her brain. “What about Elecia?” she whispered—just the name made the happy bubbles in her stomach settle.

“Come,” Aldrik said, taking her hands in his as he led her back to the couch. This time she sat next to him. “Who do you think Elecia is?”

“I don’t know.” Vhalla didn’t want to play guessing games, and her theories on Elecia ran as long as the Great Imperial Way. Thankfully, Aldrik didn’t drag her along.

“Elecia is my cousin.”

“What?” Vhalla asked on a quick inhale of air.

A knowing grin curled up the corners of his mouth at her obvious shock. “My mother, as I’m sure you know, was a Western princess. When the West was overthrown, her father was removed from his throne as king. But in an effort for a peaceful transition, his eldest son—my Uncle Ophain—was appointed as the Lord of the West. My uncle had a son who later married a Northern woman and had a daughter.”

“Elecia?” Vhalla whispered, wide-eyed, mentally following along. It explained everything about the woman. Her appearance, her demeanor, her protectiveness of Aldrik, Vhalla understood it all.

Aldrik nodded. “She was born when I was seven. We made a trip back to the West not long after but she was only a toddler. I didn’t know her well until we were adults,” he continued.

There was a ringing in Vhalla’s ears and relief tingled across her skin. Elecia wasn’t a lover. She wasn’t his betrothed. She was his family.

“I thought you already knew.”

“How would I have known?” Vhalla asked, a touch exasperated. She read a lot of books but it wasn’t as though she specifically studied lineages and would just happen to recall that bit of information.

“We have the same name,” Aldrik said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” Vhalla regarded him as though he was crazy.

“Ci’Dan, my mother’s family name.”

The mysterious “C” finally had an explanation.

“Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris,” Vhalla whispered. “Then, what was she doing in your room—at night?” Vhalla refrained from commenting on their extremely casual state of dress.

“Ah, that.” Aldrik glanced away. “I didn’t say anything before because I was worried it wouldn’t work.”

“What?” Vhalla asked, wondering what other obvious thing she could have missed.

“Elecia is a Groundbreaker. She’s talented in a great many things, but healing is something she has a natural gift for. She reads bodies like books.” Aldrik smiled and stood. “Vhalla, look at me.” She pursed her lips together, seeing nothing. “With magic sight.”

Vhalla shifted her vision and saw a sight unlike any she’d seen before. His body was swathed in a golden-white flame, so brilliant that his skin glowed faintly. She’d never seen him so bright. It was then she realized the reason. The dark spot at his side was gone.

Vhalla was on her feet, reaching out and placing her hand on his hip. She shifted back her vision and looked up at his face. Aldrik continued to smile through Vhalla’s surprise.

“Y-you’re cured?” she asked tentatively.

“I am,” he beamed. “It was a process, though; it took almost two days of her work and mine. She was here around the clock.”

Vhalla breathed slowly. She had never seen the prince smile so much. Laughter bubbled up from her stomach and escaped with a joyous melody. As long as she had known him he had been suffering from this wound. It was literally a dark spot on him for months. Now he was free.

“I wish I could’ve helped,” she said softly.

“I didn’t want to tax you,” he replied, timidly running his fingers over her cheek. They left a flush in their wake. “Especially not after the sandstorm.”

“Next time, at least tell me,” she said sternly.

“I promise,” Aldrik vowed.

“I thought ...” Vhalla shook her head with a small laugh. “I thought you were with her,” she confessed, looking away.

“I thought everything was obvious to you,” he said softly, astounded at her confusion. “Not just about Elecia, but—” Aldrik ran a hand across his hair, noticing the mess she’d made in the back earlier with a small smile, “—with everything. I was certain that, with how I acted toward only you, you knew.”

Vhalla blushed and stared at her toes. Larel had tried to tell her. It would be false if Vhalla said she hadn’t hoped. But of course she had never thought it was true. There was always a more likely, convenient explanation. Something else crossed her mind and her eyes snapped back to his.

“If you’re cured, then the Bond ... is it?” She felt a small panic rising in her.

Aldrik chuckled. “It is still there. My sincere apologies, Vhalla Yarl, but to the best knowledge of the academic community of sorcerers, we are Bound for life.”

“Forgive me for not being torn up over that.” She smiled from ear to ear.

He chuckled and squeezed her hand lightly.

Vhalla sat back onto the couch with a relieved sigh. The past half hour hit her all at once, and she suddenly felt exhausted. Aldrik returned to his place next to her, placing his arm behind her, his side flush against hers, and she leaned into him instinctively. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she was pleased to find he made no motion away.

“Vhalla,” he whispered softly.

“Aldrik?” she replied, her eyes dipping closed as she allowed herself to enjoy his warmth.

“Did you mean what you said? Or was it just a moment?”

Vhalla sat up straighter to study his face. “What?”

“Earlier.” Aldrik glanced away. “You told me that, your feelings ...”

Vhalla paused, hesitant. Was he giving her the choice? Was he asking her to decide? He seemed unable to meet her gaze and looked across the room at nothing in particular. Vhalla took a shaky breath. Reaching out, she put her fingertips under his chin and guided his eyes back to hers.

“Aldrik, it was not an impulse,” Vhalla spoke slowly and deliberately. “It was not even the first time I had said it aloud.” She smiled softly at his surprise.

“When?” His lips barely moved.

“When did I admit it? Only after the sandstorm. When did it happen? Long before that.” She shrugged slightly; it was hopeless to attempt denial. Vhalla returned her hand to his, looking at their intertwined fingers. The sight of that alone filled her with joy.

“I tried,” he sighed, the sorrow in his voice contrasting starkly the tone of their conversations prior. “I didn’t expect it, then I didn’t want it to happen. I tried to explain it to you the day of the verdict. Being involved with me at all is dangerous.”

“I don’t care.” It came out of her mouth before she had time to filter it. But as he shook his head at her she found she didn’t regret it.

Aldrik chuckled softly and stood. “You’re a rather impossible woman.”

“Pot meet kettle.” Vhalla gave him a snarky grin.

She was rewarded with the rich sound of his laughter as Aldrik helped her to her feet. “I must do some work,” he explained his apologetic look.

“On what?” Vhalla stalled him, not ready to be dismissed.

“Strategy, planning for the troop addition, acquiring any extra rations we may need,” Aldrik listed.

“Could I help?” Vhalla was glad that she hadn’t thought the words through first, otherwise she may not have said them. Offering to help the crown prince with matters of state was too bold, too far beyond her station. Then again, so was kissing him. Vhalla shifted her weight from one foot to the other, weighing his surprised stare.

“Actually,” Aldrik thought aloud, “you could.”

Aldrik led her over to the table eagerly. He scattered the papers and began to give her an overview. Vhalla was surprised to find how good it felt to use her mind again. For months she’d been out of her element, away from books and knowledge. It was like stretching a muscle that’d been languishing for far too long.

He twirled a gold-tipped raven’s feather quill between his fingers as he spoke, and Vhalla chewed thoughtfully on the end of a spare she’d made her own. One positive, she discovered, about her intellect was that she could focus on what he was saying and his dexterous fingers at the same time. Vhalla missed nothing, his knowledge or how nimble his long hands actually were.

“How many stone’s worth of smoked meat is being provided by the West?” Aldrik asked from the other end of the table.

“Two-thousand,” Vhalla replied, quickly marking the numbers on a new list as he’d showed her.

“That’s not enough,” he mumbled. “We’ll need to ask the Western lords for more.”

Vhalla stopped her quill, looking across at the dark-haired prince who was deep in thought. She could almost hear the words echoing through his mind. “I know how you could get more.”

“What?” Aldrik looked up, startled.

She took a deep breath, hoping she’d arranged her thoughts well enough. “The West survives off shrub game and fishing from the coast as well as imports from the East and South.” She recalled reading. “You can’t ask for any more from the lords and ladies this far into the Waste. They’re likely already worried about making it through the off-seasons of trading.”

“So then what do you propose?” Aldrik rested his fingertips on the table, assessing her as a prince.

Vhalla faltered, but only briefly. She knew what she’d read and lived. “Every year in Paca, Cyven, there’s a Festival of the Sun with prize hogs. They’re slaughtered shortly after and smoked in the winter to be sold at the Crossroads. It’s part of a sort of meat migration that supports the West.”

Aldrik’s eyes glittered, suddenly following along.

“The Empire buys eighty percent or so, of this influx in the market and you’d likely have your difference for the war. But, to make sure the Western lords and ladies don’t worry about their storehouses, you should send the farmers back to the East with orders to return with extra grain and subsidize the cost of the farmer’s travel,” Vhalla finished.

“Yes,” Aldrik breathed, a wide smile arcing across his lips. “The double round of trading should also help the economies of both East and West.”

He was furiously scribbling, folding three quick letters, and sealing them with some heated wax. Vhalla watched his golden seal move in shock. Had she just done that?

“I should get these off immediately.” Aldrik started for the door, pausing briefly to stare at her in what Vhalla dared to say was awe. “When I return, I’d like to run a few more thoughts by you.”

“Of course, my prince.” Her own smile broke through her daze.

Aldrik returned in record time and their previously quiet work was suddenly very chatty. Vhalla learned quickly that the prince wanted her to challenge him. It went against everything she’d ever been taught to oppose the prince’s word, but Aldrik thrived off it. He held nothing back, and Vhalla had to draw from every book she’d ever read on the geography, history, economies, and people of the Empire to keep up.

It was exhilarating, and exhausting.

Vhalla put her hands on the small of her back and stretched. The sun had begun to hang low, turning the room into a kaleidoscope of rich colors cast by the stained glass window. “Do you ever stop working?”

He grinned at her. Aldrik couldn’t hide his enjoyment all afternoon and neither could Vhalla. “An Empire doesn’t run itself.” He tapped his quill on the table twice. “And, I’m three times as productive with you around, so I must take full advantage of that. I had no idea I was with such a natural stateswoman.”

Vhalla blushed.

“Are you hungry?” He stared at the stained glass a moment before pulling his watch from his pocket. Time had crept up on him as well.

“A little.”

“What would you like? I will get you anything you desire.” Aldrik grabbed the coat he’d discarded on the floor at some point in the afternoon and shrugged himself into it.

“Anything?” she asked.

“I am the crown prince,” he smirked.

“Such an abuse of power,” she scolded teasingly.

Aldrik straightened, finishing the buttons at his neck. “The things we do for love.” He shrugged, running his hands over his hair.

Vhalla’s eyes widened. She stared at him as he turned back to face her, struggling with the meaning of those words. “Aldrik,” she whispered.

He paused, his hands dropping to his sides. “Food?”

“Surprise me.” Food had become the farthest thing from her mind.

He nodded and strode briskly out of the room.

Vhalla stared at the door dumbly before turning to one of the candles on the table. She watched the flame, losing herself to her thoughts. It seemed to radiate his essence, echoing Aldrik’s words in every flicker. Vhalla reached out a hand, running it over the top of the fire absentmindedly.