by Elise Kova
“Larel,” Aldrik said after a thoughtful second. Vhalla shifted uneasily at his pause. Heat began to rise to her cheeks, she had been so foolish. “I suppose she is like Sareem is to you. I have known her since I was a child. She was different from the others and seemed to be willing to speak with me, work with me, without fawning over the prince.”
Vhalla inspected the hem of her shirt. They were both Western, she mused, and Vhalla had no idea if Larel had a noble background or not. Most apprentices had some connection to nobility, which was how they became apprentices rather than servants.
“Do not fidget,” Aldrik said gently, resting his fingertips on the back of her hand. Vhalla jumped at the contact. “Yes, she is just a friend.”
The heat of his fingertips burned like the weight of his eyes, and Vhalla was entranced by both. They danced around something that neither seemed ready to admit. Vhalla did not think on it. The only thing she thought of was how close the prince’s face was to hers as he reached to touch her hand.
“Do you ever practice your sorcery?” Vhalla asked suddenly, diffusing the moment.
“I used to practice more frequently.” He straightened away and placed a hand on his hip. Vhalla instantly remembered his wound. She busied her mouth with another bite of food to avoid asking another stupid question. “Will you join the Tower?”
Vhalla stopped mid-chew. Untutored in decorum, she placed the half-eaten sandwich back in the box and wiped her palms on her knees. Aldrik’s eyes grazed over the action but he said nothing as she worked through her response.
“Aldrik,” she whispered softly, staring at the crimson roses that were their only company.
“Vhalla?” Confusion about her demeanor was evident in his voice.
“If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?” When had word Eradicated begun to make her uncomfortable?
“What do you mean?” He arched a dark eyebrow.
“The Bond.” Vhalla looked to him, placing a palm on the bench between them. Her fingers almost touched his thigh. “You said it’s a magical connection, that it saved your life. If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?”
“Do not concern yourself with that.” He shook his head. The motion caused a stray piece of hair to fall forward to arch around the side of his face.
“Do you know?” she asked with pursed lips. There wasn’t any point to her asking. Vhalla acknowledged to herself that eradication was no longer an option.
“I do not,” he relented with a small sigh. “But I wish for you to make your decision for yourself, not because—”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Vhalla interrupted the prince. He blinked at her. “Aldrik, I couldn’t make a decision if I knew it would hurt you.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because—” The sharp cry of an iron gate followed by the loud clang of it closing interrupted her. Vhalla looked to the door.
Heavy footsteps ground upon the gravel path. Vhalla barely recognized the gait of the step, but Aldrik did instantly. He straightened, and Vhalla did the same. The man that she had just spoken with so casually suddenly wore a face as hard as stone.
“Brother!” another male voice called energetically. “Brother, are you here?”
Two shadows appeared outside the fogged glass of the greenhouse, their outlines blurry and indistinguishable. The door to the gazebo opened, and a stocky prince walked in boldly. The man Aldrik had been with the day prior entered with him—the head of Senate. Prince Baldair looked across the room to Aldrik and then Vhalla.
“I did not realize you had company, brother.” A slow smile crept across his features.
“Baldair, I believe we have discussed—at length—that I am not to be disturbed within my garden.” Aldrik’s voice was tight and tense.
Vhalla missed the awkward exchange of the princes as the senator’s stare sent a shiver down her spine. The older man squinted his eyes, and a satisfied smirk grew from the corners of his mouth. The senator recognized her.
“I suppose I can see why now,” Baldair laughed. “Please forgive me, miss...” The head of Senate was not the only person to recognize the library apprentice in their midst. “You’re the girl from the library, the clumsy one! Vhalla, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes.” She couldn’t stop a stutter as the prince crossed the room and took her hand, kissing its back.
He had remembered her, though she wished for something more than her clumsiness. He had a brilliant smile, and Vhalla relaxed under his icy blue eyes. Her memories of the Heartbreaker Prince’s radiance didn’t do him justice.
“I didn’t expect a prince to remember my name,” she murmured in reply.
“No!” he gasped. “One as lovely as you should never be forgotten. And if you’re in the garden, I am sure my brother has not once forgotten your name.” He nudged Aldrik playfully.
Aldrik simply stared up at his brother, unmoving from his seat. She looked to the elder prince, confused by his dark glare.
“Baldair, what do you want?” Vhalla could almost see the tension in Aldrik’s jaw as he forced the words between his lips.
“Forgive your brother, my prince.” The senator gave a small bow. “There was a bird this morning. The eastern front of the southern host has crumbled in its attack. The Clan of Houl is now pressing on the East. I thought it an urgent matter for the war council.”
“A messenger would have sufficed.” Aldrik stood, glaring at his brother.
Vhalla rose stiffly, everyone else was on their feet, and she did not want to stand out any more than she already did.
“My sincere apologies for interrupting your lunch.” Nothing in the senator’s words sounded like an apology as his eyes assessed the half-eaten box of food. Aldrik looked back, following his stare.
Vhalla brought her hands together before her, grabbing her fingers with white knuckles to keep from fidgeting. Turning away from the senator and his brother, Aldrik’s eyes were significantly softer, but it was the trace of worry between his brows did not reassure Vhalla.
“It was nothing,” Aldrik responded, his voice void of emotion.
Vhalla knew he could not admit to associating with her. He was the crown prince—as if he would want anyone to know he had spent time with someone so lowly. She stared at her feet. She could never be anyone to him.
“My apologies to you as well, Vhalla...” The senator held the end of her name, waiting for her to fill in the empty space.
“Yarl,” she responded purely out of obligation.
“Vhalla Yarl,” the Senator repeated thoughtfully.
If Vhalla could rip her name from his tongue and mind she would have.
“I will be in attendance at your war council in a moment, Senator Egmun.” It must have been her imagination that Aldrik took a half-step between her and the senator.
“I’ll see her out.” Prince Baldair smiled, offering Vhalla his elbow. She stared at the appendage before looking back to Aldrik. His face was stony again. “You have more pressing matters, brother.”
“Indeed.” The crown prince turned, and Vhalla was left with no option but to take the golden prince’s arm.
The head of Senate, Egmun; Vhalla committed the name to memory. Aldrik walked out first and the dark prince did not even look back at her. The two men began talking halfway to the gate, but Vhalla only heard the wind as her prince left her behind with his brother.
IF VHALLA COUNTED the reasons for her to be escorted by Prince Baldair, she would use zero fingers. Yet she strolled with him through the garden and past the gate. Her hand rested in the crook of his elbow and Vhalla realized that, despite his size, he was not as warm as his brother.
She stole a glance down the hall where Aldrik and the senator had turned. They were nowhere to be seen. Not even a faint echo of their voices could be heard. To add to her discomfort, Prince Baldair led her in the opposite direction. The opulence was the same as the last time she walked with Aldrik, but the servants must have been ignoring their cleaning duti
es due to the festival for it did not shine as brightly today.
“So,” the prince finally started. His voice was higher than Aldrik’s, less gravely. But it was a rich and full sound, almost song-like. “How does someone like you end up in my brother’s garden?”
“Someone like me?” Vhalla asked carefully. She knew exactly what he meant, but perhaps answering his question could be avoided if she turned it back upon him.
“A library apprentice,” Baldair grinned. He ran a hand through his ear-length wavy blonde hair. His easy response told her he had seen through her efforts to dodge his inquiry.
“I...” Vhalla looked at the thin cracks between the tiled marble beneath her feet. She wished she was small enough to slip through one and fall to the center of the earth. You’re a bad liar, Sareem’s words echoed in her treacherous mind.
“He’s not blackmailing you or anything, is he?” There was genuine concern in his voice.
“What?” Vhalla blinked up at the prince. “No, of course not.”
“Well, I know you weren’t enjoying his company.” Prince Baldair gave a full laugh as though he had made a great joke.
Vhalla frowned. Aldrik would not want her to disclose that they enjoyed each other’s company, or at least she did his. But she felt strange standing there without defending him in the face of a blatant insult.
“I think he has an astoundingly sharp mind,” she answered delicately.
Prince Baldair looked at her sideways. “That may be one of the nicest things I have ever heard a staff or servant say about my brother. Let’s see, I’ve heard egotistical, a royal pain, his head stuck in a variety of places that I don’t think are anatomically possible...” The prince laughed again.
Vhalla felt her whole body tense. “I doubt those people took the time to understand him,” she mumbled.
Prince Baldair stopped laughing and looked at her queerly. “You’re so polite, Vhalla.” Prince Baldair chuckled. “Fine, fine, I won’t push you to be anything but the good girl...for now,” he added with a wink.
Vhalla’s cheeks were stubbornly hot. The younger prince seemed to love jesting. “How is the front?” she asked, struggling for a change of topic that wouldn’t reveal too much to the Heartbreaker Prince.
“Much like my father said, the Northern capital refuses to fall. A few clans continue to resist, but we will have them in time.” He spoke as easily about it as if it was the weather.
“Is what’s happened serious?” Vhalla asked, glancing over her shoulder. They had long since passed the entrance to the servants’ and staffs’ quarters, and Vhalla’s tension slowly ebbed due to her curiosity over the towering walls of glittering gold and carved stone around her.
“What’s happened?” he repeated. Prince Baldair held out his arm as she momentarily was distracted by inspecting a fresco. He remained close enough to maintain contact; Vhalla did not realize how close.
“The war council—” She turned and almost bumped face-first into his wide, muscular chest.
“Oh that,” the younger prince chuckled. “I’m certain it’ll be fine. I have no doubt Father wants to ensure Aldrik understands everything that has occurred for when he returns to the front.”
Vhalla stopped. Everything stopped. Only her breathing and heartbeat moved in the whole world. As Vhalla stared at a distant point, she missed the blonde’s quizzical gaze. It was as though she could see the moment Aldrik would leave. He would go back to war.
“Vhalla?” The golden prince turned. Much more forward than his brother, calloused palms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, completely covering them.
Her head snapped up at the handsome man who now filled her vision, her trance broken. She struggled to form words, and he seemed content to wait.
“Sorry.” Vhalla shook her head, pressing her eyes closed. How had she not realized it before feeling the crippling horror at the idea of the prince leaving? How had these emotions crept up on her? “I just, felt dizzy.”
“Dizzy?” The prince made a low humming noise in the back of his throat. “Now, we can’t have any of that.”
With a laugh and a surprisingly graceful motion for such a mountain of a man, he lifted her small form into the air with ease. There was no hope for Vhalla as she blushed. She fumbled clumsily with her hands, not knowing where to place them as her entire side was flush against the royal’s chest.
“I’m fine!” She shook her head.
“Nonsense. I interrupted your lunch; I’m certain any lightheadedness is from that. Allow me to remedy such.” The prince grinned, and Vhalla sat helpless in his palms.
Vhalla was distracted from her awkward position as they entered a central atrium with a beautiful stained glass dome, the sun at its apex casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the floor. A gold staircase spiraled around the atrium with several halls leading off at various levels. On the floor was a mosaic of the palace done in painstakingly small tiles.
Vhalla gazed upward in awe as the prince carried her through its center. She stared up at a picture of the world cast in sparkling yellows. A crescent continent was off to the side of the Empire’s mainland, barrier islands in emerald dotting the space between the two land masses. Oceans were cast in sapphire blues, and she saw hints of land upon the edges of the dome, lands she had never heard of and wondered if they even existed.
“It’s astounding, isn’t it?” the prince asked.
Vhalla hadn’t even realized they had stopped walking.
“It is,” she agreed easily, beginning to find herself comfortable in his arms.
“My father wakes every day and sees his Empire shining down upon him,” the prince mused, surprisingly eloquent.
“I can’t imagine what it would be like,” she whispered.
“Just ask my brother.” Baldair laughed and continued on down a hall covered in a plush white carpet.
Her mind began to spiral down a staircase of thoughts surrounding his suggestion. Aldrik would be the Emperor. After spending so much time getting to know the man, it suddenly seemed impossible. Her teacher, her friend, the man she had come to...
Baldair placed her lightly on the ground before a door large enough for two people to fit through side-by-side.
“Where are we?” There was nothing to mar the white walls and golden vaulted ceilings of this particular hall, except for the door she stood before and one mirror opposite.
“My chambers,” the prince replied.
“What?” Vhalla practically jumped out of her skin. “My prince, I do not think that this is appro—”
The door swung open under his large hands and light flooded the hall. Vhalla blinked, her eyes adjusting to the brilliance. She was pulled in with hypnotic curiosity.
The largest windows she had ever laid eyes upon dominated the entire wall opposite the door. He had said they were his chambers, but Vhalla did not see a bed in sight. She did however see two separate sitting areas, a fully-set table for six, a well-stocked full bar to her right, instruments, Carcivi boards, darts, a harp, a lute, and every other form of entertainment.
“What do you think?” He leaned against the doorframe.
“It’s...” There weren’t words to describe it. “This is where you live?” Vhalla felt it must be taboo for her to be in this space, that were she to touch anything it would burst into flames under her fingertips.
“Where else would it be?” The prince chuckled, pulling a rope that hung behind the bar.
“Where is your bed?” Vhalla tried to count the number of her personal chambers that could fit in the prince’s main entertainment room. She lost count at fifteen.
“Through that door,” the prince pointed.
“There’s more?” She tried to consider the length of the hall they’d just traversed and how much could be hidden away behind the other doors.
“A fair bit.” He nodded. Crossing over, he assessed her with his hands on his hips and a wicked little grin between his stubble clad cheeks. “Would you like to see my bed?”<
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Heat was back on her face, and Vhalla opened and shut her mouth like a fish trying to find air above water. She was in over her head with this man, and there was no hope for escape.
The moment a servant appeared in the doorframe, and Prince Baldair’s eyes were off her, she said a prayer to the Mother.
“My prince?” The man gave a low bow. Vhalla glanced at the rope the prince had pulled.
“I would like lunch for two, please,” Prince Baldair commanded.
“What would you care for?” The servant dared not to even raise his eyes. Vhalla realized how bold she had become before royalty.
“Anything is fine.” The prince waved him away, and the man stepped backward with another bow before disappearing down the hall.
Before Vhalla could voice an objection, the prince had her seated in a plush chair at one end of a long dining table, which seemed perfectly proportioned in its corner of the massive room. He opted for the seat next to her rather than the chair at the other end. Vhalla had never been served before, and she did not know what to say or do as servants began to fill the table around her. Guilt tickled the back of her throat and she bit her lip, avoiding their eyes.
“I know why you were with my brother today,” Prince Baldair said finally when the help had left.
Vhalla stared at him open-mouthed. Food hung off a fork before her.
A rumbling chuckle resonated through his chest at her expression. “There was a letter.”
“What did the letter say?” Vhalla asked cautiously, easing her food back onto its plate. Aldrik had been so adamant that his father shouldn’t know of her. Wasn’t he keeping her magic a secret out of concern?
Noticing how he held the fork and knife, she let herself be distracted. He held a utensil in one hand, index fingers outstretched over their backs. Comparing it to how she was cutting her meat with fork stabbed vertical, fist grip, she felt like a barbarian from the Crescent Continent.
“The clerics reported that the library staff had been integral to saving his life. I could tell you were a smart one from the moment I met you. It was you, wasn’t it, Vhalla?” It was phrased as a question, but Prince Baldair wore a knowing smile.
