by Elise Kova
Larel’s face was expressionless.
“Just leave me alone for once.” Vhalla grabbed her pack and stormed off, leaving the rest of the tent for Larel.
She hated herself for those words. It wasn’t Larel’s fault. The class Vhalla was born into, the Night of Fire and Wind, the prince’s confusing and frustrating hot and cold attitude toward Vhalla. Larel had no control over any of it. Vhalla had just taken her frustrations out on someone who wasn’t expecting it.
Vhalla marched alone. She found a random corner of the host to fall in with away from Elecia, Aldrik, Fritz, Larel, and the Golden Guard. Fritz noticed instantly and was about to ride over to her when Larel stopped him. They found themselves engaged in a heated conversation that Vhalla tried to ignore. They were clearly talking about her.
When the march finished for the day, Vhalla had imagined every possible thing Larel, Fritz, and Aldrik could’ve said about her. Some of the things she felt guilty for even thinking they would utter, but somehow it still seemed plausible. Vhalla’s shoulders hunched, and her head dipped. She suddenly felt so tired.
“Vhalla.” Her head snapped up, turning to look up at the dark prince who had materialized at her side. “After everyone is settled, come and we’ll begin work.”
He still didn’t specify what work, and Vhalla felt odd under his studying assessment. After drifting through camp, waiting for Larel and Fritz to be away to strip her armor so she could avoid any odd confrontations, Vhalla finally dragged her feet to Aldrik’s tent. She came in the same woolen clothing she’d worn in the morning—that she’d been wearing for days.
The flap of his tent was open, and Vhalla paused politely in the entryway.
“My prince?” she asked softly. “Am I too early?”
He was sitting at the small table marking a piece of paper before him. His armor was propped on its stand opposite the entry, and he sat in tan pants and a white cotton shirt. “No, you are fine, Vhalla.” He glanced at her briefly. “Close it behind you.” He motioned to a tie on the inside that held up the flap, and she obliged.
Vhalla was momentarily overcome from the last time she had been in his space. She quickly crossed and situated herself on a pillow opposite him. Tilting her head, Vhalla assessed the prince, trying to figure out what was different.
“What is it?” he asked without looking up from whatever he was doing.
“You’re not wearing any black,” she realized.
Aldrik paused and considered his attire. “I suppose I am not.” He finished what he was working on and folded it twice, placing it aside.
“It’s strange,” she said thoughtfully.
“Is it?” Aldrik rested his elbow on the table, his cheek on his fist.
“You’re always in black,” she explained.
“Not true.” He shook his head.
“Yes, you are,” Vhalla insisted.
“I wear black in public.”
“Why?”
“I will tell you, perhaps, if you tell me what cloud situated itself over your head.” Clearly her day of sulking had not been lost on him.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” she mumbled.
“I would rather you did.” He leaned forward. “Was it the dream?”
“Why is everyone so obsessed with my dreams?” Vhalla shrunk away.
“Because we care about you,” Aldrik explained.
“We?” she repeated.
“Fritz, Larel, and I.”
“Why ...” Why did he insist on caring about her? “Well, you should stop.”
“That is not—”
“I thought I came here to work on something with you.” Vhalla was on her feet. “I’m not doing this again, Aldrik. I won’t be your project.”
“Yes, yes, of course, my lady.” He waved a hand.
“Don’t patronize me.” It struck a chord with her.
“Are you not a lady?” he asked.
“I am a woman,” Vhalla said with a roll of her eyes. “But I am not a lady.”
“Fine then, my princess.” He smirked.
“Stop,” Vhalla cautioned.
“Why, my queen?”
She’d had enough and was halfway to the door when Aldrik snatched up her wrist. Vhalla didn’t even turn and look at him.
“They’re just words.” The timbre of his voice had gone low and deep.
“They’re not.” She thought of all the lords and ladies she’d seen in the palace, how different she felt on the night of the gala. Titles were more than just words. They were walls and barriers and parapets to lift up some and keep others out.
“Look at me.” He commanded and she obliged. “I could give you any of them.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“It does.” She made the mistake of giving him her focus, and Aldrik’s serious gaze consumed it whole. “One day, I will be Emperor. I could make you anything you pleased.”
“Why?” Vhalla whispered.
“Because ...” He was at a momentary loss for words. Then the prince did something he had a reputation for avoiding. He met her gaze and showed her the truth from which he spoke. “I would do it because it would please you.”
Vhalla turned to face him, searching the prince with skepticism. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure how to reply. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to be so bold.
He relaxed his grip on her wrist, and his hand shifted to hers. “I realized something this morning, these past days,” Aldrik murmured. “I am a spoiled prince. No matter how unfair it may be, I do not do well being denied something I want, even if it’s self-inflicted. I have hurt you, I have put you in harm’s way, and I will continue to ask this and more of you the longer you stay near me. Yet knowing this, I seem to want you closer even when sense tells me the opposite.”
“Aldrik.” All words but his name failed her.
“You asked me before for honesty; there it is.” It was his turn to search her features for her reaction.
Vhalla felt dizzy, and all she could manage was a nod. He led her back to the small sitting area and sat with her. Vhalla felt the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, and she did nothing to break their contact. “So, if it involves my feelings, trust me above all others.”
“Above Elecia, you mean.” Vhalla didn’t leave things to chance.
“Above Elecia,” Aldrik agreed with a nod.
“So then, you’re not upset with me?” If they were clearing the air, Vhalla wanted to get everything out.
“Not in the slightest.” Aldrik’s thumb ghosted over the back of her hand. “If anything, you should be upset with me for ...” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Let’s call it even.” Vhalla didn’t want to dwell. She had done enough of that all day, and she felt at ease finally knowing more or less where she stood with Aldrik. “So what are we actually supposed to be working on?”
Aldrik shared a brief smile with her before his face quickly turned somber. “I have a plan to take the North.” His eyes bore into her. “But I will need you.”
“What could I do?” She hadn’t mastered any type of combat.
“It will depend on if you are able to become proficient at Projection. I believe I am able to see you when you are Projected because of our Bond, but no one else should be able to. If you can Project, you can infiltrate the Northern stronghold undetected. Learn its passages and its weaknesses. The information you could give might make them fall in one night.”
Vhalla instantly felt uneasy at the idea. “But last time I became stuck.”
“I will help you, I will be here.” Aldrik squeezed her hand lightly. “If you are willing, we will begin practice tonight.”
After some internal debate, Vhalla finally decided. “I will.” Perhaps this would be the one thing she could do that would give meaning to her conscription into the military. “What do I need to do?”
“Well, have you worked on Channeling?” Aldrik finally straightened, pulling his hand from
hers. The distance he’d previously placed between them didn’t come rushing to fill the space. It didn’t feel like he was planning for it to be the last time they touched.
“Not really.” Vhalla glanced away.
“I didn’t see you using magic when we practiced either.” Aldrik gave her a knowing grin. “So, let us practice that first.”
Vhalla nodded and thought back to the last time they had worked together. It was an easy memory to recall, given the impact the Joining had on her. Vhalla extended her hands, focusing on them. She’d seen Aldrik repeat the movement countless times.
She clenched her hands into fists, and felt a rush of power. It was the same feeling he had imparted upon her during their Joining, and it made Vhalla wonder why she’d been so fearful to attempt it. Her eyes darted back to him. “I think I did it.”
“Really?” He seemed both surprised and skeptical.
“Check,” she suggested.
Aldrik looked askance. “I cannot.”
“What?”
“I cannot use magic sight.” Aldrik seemed embarrassed to admit the fact.
Vhalla stared in shock. He couldn’t do something? More notably, he couldn’t do something that she could. His eyes failed to meet hers, and Vhalla cleared the look from her face. He’d been helpful to her when she had no idea what magic was. She’d not chastise him now.
“Well, let’s just assume I can.” Vhalla gave a small grin.
“Truly? So easily?” He was surprised.
“I have a good teacher.” She flashed him a wide smile, and his mouth curled upward in reply before he could give it thought.
“Do you remember how you Projected?” he asked.
“Vaguely,” she confessed. She remembered trying to be near him when the Emperor had returned to the capital, and Vhalla remembered stretching her mind toward the rose garden. She thought it’d been a dream then, but perhaps it made more sense as a Projection.
“Try to repeat that process.” Aldrik seemed as uncertain as she felt.
Vhalla nodded, willing to let his confidence in her give life to her attempt. She closed her eyes, thinking back to the process she had used long ago. Visualize, she instructed to herself. In her mind’s eye the room began to rebuild with a magically sharp clarity.
Vhalla allowed the world to slow and still. Farther, she needed to stretch farther. Now able to maintain an open Channel, Vhalla found it easier to construct a magical world for her to walk within. She was the air; it beckoned endlessly to Vhalla, asking for her to fill the space. Soon sound disappeared, and she stood.
Her senses rushed back to her, but they were different than before. She heard by feeling the air move; she saw by how the shimmering currents of air circled around objects. Vhalla watched her body slump limply.
Aldrik caught her physical form and shifted it to rest in his arm. A smile curled his lips at the sight of her.
“Excellent,” he enthused.
Can you see me? she asked.
He nodded. “Try walking.”
She turned in place. It was easy to cross the room, and his eyes followed her the whole time. She walked over to his armor and reached out a hand. Vhalla studied it uncertainly.
What do I look like? she asked, wondering if the ghost-like appearance of her hand was the same for him.
“Fuzzy, as though you are in a fog. How a mirage looks in the desert,” Aldrik replied.
Vhalla tried to touch the plate and found her hand passed right through it. I can’t touch things, she observed.
“Try to use your magic,” he suggested.
Vhalla held out her hand, attempting to manipulate the wind around her. It was suddenly slippery and formless, like a vat of snakes and oil. Vhalla demanded it oblige her, focusing harder.
“Vhalla, stop,” Aldrik warned.
She didn’t even look back at him. Vhalla tried to take a deep breath, to feel the air, but found she couldn’t in this form. She would just have to force it. Immersing herself in her Channel, she insisted the armor move. Her vision shifted, the world phased between light and dark.
Aldrik? she called.
“Vhalla, stop!” He sounded distant and far.
Aldrik! she cried. Vhalla stood in a world of blinding light.
“Vhalla.” Aldrik’s voice was faint. “Come back to me.” She turned in the white emptiness but couldn’t find where he was. “Listen, find your heartbeat. Find mine. Come back.” He sounded strung out, which only caused her to feel more distraught.
Aldrik? she asked into the emptiness. There was no reply. Vhalla closed her eyes, only to find more light. She listened, there was nothing. Vhalla walked for a bit, but couldn’t make anything appear before her. Time seemed to have stopped, and she wasn’t sure how long she wandered. Finally, she sat and simply listened.
Slowly, painfully slowly, she began to hear a distant drumming. It was a familiar rhythm, and it called to her. Vhalla allowed it to flow back into her, it resonating through every aspect of her consciousness. It was a slow transition as the world faded into blackness.
Her eyes fluttered open. Aldrik’s face hovered above her, and he let out a small relieved laugh. For the second time in one day she found herself pressed against his chest. Vhalla sighed softly. It was a trend she could learn to live with.
“You scared me again,” he muttered. “That’ll be the last time we do that.”
“No,” Vhalla insisted with a shake of her head. “I’ll get it, I just need more practice. I pushed too hard.”
He studied her carefully, and she yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted. She made no motion to get up, and he made no motion to remove her from his person. Vhalla’s eyelids drooped closed.
“Rest,” the prince instructed.
She shifted slightly, her ear against his chest. “Aldrik?” she inquired with another yawn.
“Vhalla?”
She struggled to find the right words. “This is a really, really awful idea.”
Vhalla felt him stiffen a moment, and he let out a small sigh. “I know.” His voice was barely audible. “I know. Now rest.”
Vhalla felt her consciousness fade as she was swathed in a comfortable warmth that only he could exude.
VHALLA WAS ONE of those perpetually cold people. With a small amount of body fat, likely due to her spotty eating habits when wrapped up in something, she was usually the first to complain about a chill. She had long since accepted it as part of her lot in life and dressed as warmly as possible to make up for it.
However, at this particular moment she was pleasantly warm. It was a surreal feeling and, in her half-sleep haze, she shifted, pressing herself closer to the source. That source adjusted itself beneath her before settling again. The unfamiliar sensation brought Vhalla back to awareness. Her mind was sluggish with sleep, and she struggled to make sense of it.
His heartbeat was the first thing she heard. Slow and strong against her right ear. The second thing she heard was the scratching of quill on paper. Vhalla cracked open her eyes and saw she rested in the crook of Aldrik’s left arm, which wrapped around her side. She was halfway onto his lap as he sat cross legged on the floor. Stretched across her was his right hand as he marked papers on the table.
The previous events came back in pieces, punctuated with a yawn.
“You’re up.” Aldrik placed the quill on the table and ran a hand through his hair. “How do you feel?”
“Tired,” she responded groggily.
“I could tell.” His tone was flat but his posture had no heaviness to it. “I’m fairly certain you depleted most of your magic and fell into your Channel.”
Vhalla made a note to ask him, Fritz, or Larel about that later when she didn’t feel so sleepy. “How late is it?”
He shifted and reached out to the edge of the table. It had parchments strewn across it with all manner of scribbles on their surface. Aldrik pushed some pages aside, and a glint of silver caught her eye.
“Let’s see, eight-thirty.” He inspected the
pocket watch.
“Can I see it?” Vhalla held out a hand.
He looked at her curiously but obliged. Vhalla turned the watch over in her fingers. The back was polished to a mirror finish, the front held the blazing sun of the Empire. Time pieces were rare because those who understood their strange mechanics were few and far between. Vhalla stared past her reflection in the glass that covered the obsidian and alabaster face of the watch. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Aldrik replied awkwardly.
“I’ve never held one before,” Vhalla mused aloud. The few clocks she had ever seen were large, like one at the circulation desk in the library. “It’s like holding time itself, isn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“I wish I could make it stop,” she breathed.
His hands closed over hers and the watch, shutting the front latch closed. “If you could, what would you do?”
Aldrik’s breath was warm on her cheeks, and Vhalla was keenly aware of how close they were. He held her in one arm, the other hand holding both of hers, her side pressed along his chest. What were they doing?
“I ...” She would be lost in those black eyes if she wasn’t careful. Vhalla straightened. “What’re you working on?”
“This?” Aldrik motioned to the parchment, allowing her to save them both from themselves. “There is the exciting job of checking our stock, making sure we have enough supplies to make it to the Crossroads. There were one or two discipline reports; I screen them for Father.” He paused; she followed his stare to one piece of paper that was completely full of his slanted scribbles. “I also began taking some notes on our Bonding.”
“On us?” Vhalla glanced at the paper.
“There is not much information on Bonding. I wanted a record I can look back on later if anything strange happens.”
She bit her lip, unsure how she felt about her experiences with Aldrik potentially being read by someone else. “I suppose it makes sense. If you need any insights from me, let me know.” Vhalla offered, and he nodded. “Does your brother help you with the other things?”
