The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  She’d never been more grateful for a professor willing to poison his students in broad daylight until now.

  “Are you referring to coming to class in general, or your insistence that we still sit in the back?” Laz murmured as he stepped through the door beside Freya.

  Ignoring him, Freya kept her stride purposeful as she walked across the room and up the aisle to their seats. She could feel stares burning into her as she walked, so she forced herself to meet the eyes of a few students, smiling at a few as she hoped to put into practice her plan to let them all know she was still one of them and not the least bit intimidated.

  Some returned her smiles, a few averted their eyes, while others held her stare with expressions ranging from reverence to contempt.

  The sudden itch to let out her wings tingled along her spine.

  Inadvertently, her eyes landed on Myria, who was staring down at her desk, absently tapping her fingers along the edge.

  “She’s quite furious,” Laz whispered once they sat. Putting his back to the students who were watching them, he faced her. “Embarrassed as well.”

  “I feel a bit bad for her, you know?” Keeping her voice just above a breath, Freya shot another glance toward the pretty blonde. “Making that type of assumption about your future…”

  “It’s a shame, truly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she challenged you in Combat soon.”

  Freya drummed her fingers against her desk. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed, honestly. She gave me quite a workout last week.”

  Just then, Professor Ildar entered the room, rapping loudly on the doorframe as he did, silencing the class.

  “Texts out!” he shouted. “Chapter four, let’s go!”

  Laz turned to face front as Freya flipped to the start of chapter four, “Foreign Relations.”

  “At least it’s not the chapter on the ascension of monarchs,” she whispered to Laz.

  He snickered. “That will be next week, don’t worry. He’s likely to ask you to present to the class. I’ll be sure to bring snacks.”

  She scowled at him.

  For the next half hour, Professor Ildar droned on about the importance of forming allegiances and knowing the strengths and weaknesses of your neighboring lands. A good deal was a basic review of Freya’s lessons in primary and secondary school, but the more detailed information regarding their closest neighbors, Jotunheim and Dystone, was mostly new to her. Her father had kept her abreast of a good deal of Lindorothian politics, but as foreign relations were ever-evolving, there was plenty she hadn’t yet been brought up to speed on. Mainly the shifting relationship between Jotunheim and Dystone. It had been tumultuous at best over the last few centuries, the two nations having had their fair share of small skirmishes and attempted reconciliations. Based on the more recent news coming from the Dystonian capital of Caldel, things were currently going well, a state which typically left everyone in the surrounding nations content.

  According to a number of Lindorothians, though, that assessment was inaccurate.

  “I heard the Jotnar want to take the humans as slaves again, and that’s why they’ve been attempting to rebuild relations,” Derron Wailend said, interrupting their professor when he began to speak of the importance of annually revisiting the terms of treaties. “That seems to go against any type of peace-keeping logic, I would think.”

  “Well, according to my father, they’re allying with the humans in an attempt to conquer Lindoroth,” Kira Leston, a friend of Myria’s interjected.

  “You’re a fool, Kira,” Myria groaned. “Everyone knows they simply want to open trade lines with them, and no army of Jotnar will ever be able to conquer Lindoroth, even with a human alliance.”

  “These are all perfectly valid concerns,” Professor Ildar said, holding up a hand to silence them. “Although I won’t believe a word of them until they come straight from the king or queen’s own mouth.”

  “Well, what about our future queen?” Lady Leston asked, sliding a look at Freya. “Wouldn’t she know?”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “She is right back here and no, she doesn’t.”

  “Easy,” Laz murmured when he saw the surprised expression on the female’s face.

  Freya gritted her teeth, then smiled. “As much as I would love to contribute more to this conversation, only the sitting monarchs and their advisors would be kept well-informed on such detailed and classified information. I’m sure you can understand that, Lady Leston.”

  Kira smirked at her. “Of course, Lady Balthana. I just thought perhaps, since our relationship with Jotunheim has struggled a bit in recent years, you might know more.”

  Freya shrugged. “I’m sorry to disappoint.”

  Kira gave Freya a simpering smile. “I’m certain it won’t be the first time.”

  Freya opened her mouth to respond, but Laz kicked her ankle.

  “Careful, Kira,” Myria warned, her tone falling somewhere between genuine and disdain. “She may start aiming feathers at your neck for your disrespect.”

  Kira shot Myria a shocked look, then her expression shifted into amusement. “Oh? Tell me, Lady Bryton, how has life been the last few days, now that the prince has left you in the dirt?”

  Freya leaned toward Laz. “Why isn’t Ildar saying anything?”

  Laz kept his eyes trained on the front. “Just watch.”

  “You know, jealousy isn’t a pretty color on you,” Myria said airily, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I may not have landed a prince, but at least I had a chance.” She smirked. “Unlike some of us.”

  “Did you, though?” Kira arched a brow. “From what I heard at the ball, his highness and Lady Balthana have been betrothed since they were children.”

  Freya looked around the room at the rest of the students, most of whom were staring at the interaction between the two females with rapt attention. When her eyes landed on their professor, though, she saw what Laz meant.

  Professor Ildar was standing silently at the front of the room, one finger on his chin as he watched the females continue to sling barbs at one another. She hardly knew him, but it was clear by the small smile on his face that he was absorbing their words, taking in the way they spoke.

  “Alright.” He stepped forward and clapped his hands once. “Let’s halt there.” Brows raised, he looked around the room. “What lessons can we take from the interaction between Ladies Bryton and Leston?”

  Laz’s hand shot up. “Lady Bryton wasted no time in showing an imbalance of power.”

  Professor Ildar ignored Kira’s gasp of outrage. “How so, Lord Cailen?”

  “Lady Bryton referred to Lady Leston by her given name, while Lady Leston used both Lady Balthana’s and Lady Bryton’s proper titles. The use of given names in conversation is reserved for close relations, peers, or subordinates, but never social or professional superiors.”

  “Indicating?”

  Freya raised her hand, waiting until her professor acknowledged her before speaking. “Despite her known disdain for me, Lady Bryton acknowledges the stratified nature of our society by using my proper title. She used Lady Leston’s given name as a way to establish dominance. Second, because Lady Leston addressed Lady Bryton properly, she acknowledged the position of her house beneath that of House Bryton.”

  “What would you know about it?” Kira snapped.

  Freya sent Kira a cool look. “My father was the leader of the Allanorian army for five decades, three of which your uncle served under him, and my great-grandfather was governor for two centuries. I am well-aware of your family’s countless business contributions to the economy and well-being of both Allanor and Lindoroth as a whole. However, House Bryton is a governing entity. House Leston is not.” She flicked a glance toward Myria, who seemed to be studiously ignoring her.

  “Lovely!” Professor Ildar said, cutting off any response Kira may have had. “This is just one demonstration of the complex nature of our society. A bit of a tangent from our original lesson, to be sure, but a
n interesting sidebar, nonetheless.” Grinning, he looked around the room. “Now, let us shift back to our discussion of our friends to the east. Lord Jarrison, what else can you tell us about the realm of Dystone?”

  Freya was thrilled when she arrived at the training yard and learned that it would be the first day outside the sparring ring. As much as she enjoyed honing the skills Officer Ristheld had been working on, she was already well-versed in most of them and was eager to begin working a different set of muscles. Her group members—Collin, Gareth, Aer, and Myria—gave her a strong workout each day, but it was becoming repetitive. When she walked in on Monday and he directed them toward the targets set up at the end of the yard, her fingers itched to wrap around the handle of a knife and begin throwing.

  “Care to make a wager?”

  Her lips quirked at the sound of Aerelius’ voice at her side. She’d just stepped up to the line of her assigned target, knife in hand, but paused at his offer.

  “Alright.” She twirled her knife between her fingers. “What’s your wager?”

  “Well, since you’re insisting that I woo you, I was thinking a friendly bet.” He tapped the flat side of his blade against his palm. “If I win, I get to choose our plans for Friday evening.”

  “And if I win?”

  He gave her a wide grin. “You get to choose.”

  Freya pointed the knife in his direction. “Alright. Counter-bet. I’d wager we choose the same thing. If I win, I have free rein when it comes to our wedding plans.”

  “I’m sure my mother might object to that, but I’ll bite. If I win?”

  A slow smile spread across Freya’s face. “You can choose my wedding gown. And…” she stepped closer and tilted her face toward his, “I might even let you kiss me.”

  Aerelius’ mouth opened, then closed, momentarily stunned. “You could always lie,” he pointed out.

  “So could you. You won’t, though.”

  “Won’t I?”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Aerelius narrowed his eyes, considering. “Deal.”

  Freya flipped her knife in her hand and turned toward her target. “Shall we begin?”

  Grinning, Aerelius stepped toward her and placed a hand on her lower back, then brushed his lips against her ear. “Plot twist—you have to do it with the eyes of all of our fellow students on you.”

  Freya gritted her teeth, then took a quick glance around the yard. Sure enough, their banter had once again drawn the attention of those around them.

  Returning her focus to her target, she shrugged. “You underestimate my ability to work under pressure. Now, I’d take a step back, unless you’d like this knife to end up embedded in your chin.”

  “Have I ever told you how much I love when you threaten me?”

  She smirked. “Have I ever told you that you’re a twisted bastard? Now move.”

  The prince obediently stepped away, taking aim at the target beside her. “Ready, Valkyrie?”

  “On your mark.”

  “I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” Freya said, sliding a non-venomous feather from her wing. Idly, she began to clean her fingernails with the tip. “I told you not to underestimate me, and you did train with me when we were young.” She looked up at her target, which now held a single, thick gash where all five of her shots had landed. “Although, hitting all five in the same spot is a feat, even for me.”

  Aerelius scowled. “Not only did you take advantage of your prince’s ignorance of your skill again, you also took advantage of your future husband. It’s insulting.”

  Setting the feather down on the fence beside her, Freya met his eyes. “Well, now we’re even for the snake in my hair. And really, Aer, four out of five in the center of your target is quite good.”

  Stubbornly, they held one another’s gazes for several moments before Aerelius spoke. “You know, I think we may need to revisit this wooing thing. You should be trying to entice me, not the other way around.”

  Freya laughed. “Oh, don’t be such a poor sport! We can go for a rematch if you’d like.” She hopped off the rail and rested her knife against his sternum. “Don’t act as though you don’t find my skill endearing.”

  His lips quirked, then he let out a quiet laugh. “Mildly endearing, at best. Also, pointing knives at me in public probably isn’t what my father meant when he said we needed to appear unified.”

  “Well, referring to your future wife’s skills as ‘mildly’ anything is a surefire path away from gaining her affection.”

  Grinning, he tapped her on the nose. “Ah, but I already have your affection, Freya. Your love is what I’m after.”

  Rolling her eyes, Freya couldn’t help but laugh.

  Grinning, she shoved him back a step. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go work on my archery.” Biting her lip, she angled her head to the side. “I’ll meet you at the palace on Friday, after my lesson with Florian.”

  The prince gave her an easy smile. “For our date?”

  “Yes, Your Highness, for our date.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  Still shaking her head, she sheathed her knives and made her way over to the archery range, the thought of her date with her prince making her steps just a little bit lighter.

  Chapter 23

  After classes ended for the day and Freya had bathed and changed, Rissen and Cecilia insisted on escorting her to the palace, consenting reluctantly to her request that they run in their shifted forms as she flew overhead. She’d grudgingly accepted that she would need to have guards nearby, but she wasn’t quite ready to give up her personal freedoms—mainly, flying from Aldridge to the palace—any time soon.

  “I need to stretch my wings now and then, you know,” she griped when they attempted to usher her into a carriage.

  Cecelia smiled pleasantly.

  “Lady Balthana, the commander, the headmistress, not to mention the king, have all insisted we accompany you—”

  “You may accompany me,” Freya said. Facing her, she let her wings out, flaring them wide, and grinned. “From below.”

  “My Lady!” Rissen exclaimed as she leapt into the air.

  “I’ll alert you to any threats, I promise!” Freya called over her shoulder.

  “The king will hear of this!” Cecilia shouted.

  Turning, Freya folded her arms and flapped her wings, hovering in midair.

  “All that will do is get the three of us in trouble. Me, for slipping you both, and you for allowing me to do so.” Grinning, she did a quick loop above them. “It’s in all our best interests to just let this go!”

  Rissen and Cecilia exchanged a look, then Rissen turned a stony stare on Freya.

  “Stay within sight, Lady Balthana, and don’t go above twenty feet!”

  “Thirty!” she called back, not waiting for an answer before ascending a bit further. Without another word, she took off toward the palace, hardly giving her guards time to shift into their wolf forms and charge after her. So as not to aggravate them entirely, she flew just slightly ahead, keeping her eyes trained on the road while also keeping her promise to maintain an altitude of no more than thirty feet.

  A short time later, she touched down on the palace lawn just in front of the drawbridge. Hands on her hips, she turned and faced her guards who’d come to a stop just behind her, shifting back into their regular bodies.

  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Freya’s smile was wide as the thrill of finally getting to stretch her wings over a long distance coursed through her.

  Cecilia huffed and smoothed back her hair while Rissen gave her a withering look.

  “I see you both are doing a wonderful job keeping our lady Valkyrie in line.”

  “Yes, yes, they almost managed to keep up with me.” Freya turned to face the prince. “Now, let’s say we let these two relax a bit while you take me through all the tunnels you’ve discovered in my absence? I’m anxious to see that new one in particular.”

 
; “How did you know—” Aerelius clenched his jaw and sighed. “You know, for as often as you win bets, one might begin to wonder if you can read minds.”

  Freya retracted her wings. “People, Aer. I can read people.”

  Shaking his head, he glanced at Rissen and Cecilia. “You both can head inside if you’d like. There’s about to be a shift change, so Maghda should have dinner on the table shortly.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Ceclia said as she and Rissen each gave a quick bow.

  Rissen tossed Freya a wink. “Enjoy your evening, my lady.”

  Once they’d disappeared through the gatehouse, Aerelius held out his hand to Freya. “Shall we?”

  “Lead the way.” She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and let him lead her across the drawbridge.

  “So, how many have you found, anyway?” Freya asked, turning to him as they ambled toward the entrance.

  “Since you left?” He frowned in thought. “Not many, as I’ve been searching on my own and my responsibilities have increased. Perhaps four entrances we never found, but a far greater number of passages and chambers stemming from some of the main ones.”

  “Have you really been searching this whole time?”

  “Mostly. I stopped for a few years, hoping you’d return and resume the hunt with me.” He gave her a wistful smile. “Once Byrric assured me for the fifth time that wasn’t going to happen, I decided to start up again with the grand plan of impressing you with everything I found.”

  “Impressing me?” She gave him a curious look. “Aer, you know you could have come to visit me in Watoria. Written me, even.”

  “I asked, but my mother insisted I let you be. She said we’d already taken your future choices from you, and that the best thing I could do while you were away would be to let you live your life as you wished.”