The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “No, Lady Balthana,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Look at me,” she ordered. When he did, she tilted her chin up and held his gaze. “I am the type to use all resources available to me in order to make good decisions. Your knowledge of the current guards will help me do that.”

  Cecilia frowned. “You wouldn’t trust the commander’s judgement?”

  “As always, it’s his intentions I’m wary of, so I’d prefer to have a counter-offer ready.”

  Her two guards were quiet for a moment, both seemingly torn as they looked at one another, carrying on some silent conversation.

  Finally, Cecilia sighed and looked at Freya. “Alright, then.”

  “Just remember, regardless of what insight we give you,” Rissen began, “it’s unlikely you will have the final say.”

  Freya shrugged. “We’ll see. Now, let’s not keep my betrothed waiting.”

  When they reached the gate, they found a carriage there, the door propped open, and Freya could see the tips of Aerelius’ brown boots visible beyond the doorframe. She drew in her wings, then taking Rissen’s hand, she allowed him to assist her inside.

  As she settled onto the seat across from the prince, he gave her an easy smile. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”

  “An emissary from Jotunheim has come to call,” he said, propping one foot on his knee. The carriage gave a jolt and began to move forward. “Empress Lessia’s nephew, Jonas. He’s relatively new to the position and has been making the rounds, meeting the rulers and governors of neighboring countries. My parents would like us there to get a feel for him, learn a bit more about the ruling family, and allow him to get an idea of what Lindoroth’s next monarchy might be like. He’ll be staying for a few weeks, possibly longer.”

  Freya’s eyes widened. “I’m meeting a foreign emissary and no one thought to give me notice? I nearly wore pants!”

  Aerelius smiled. “You look perfect, Freya, truly. It’s just a formality, really. The king and queen want to present the future monarchs to the Jotnar now, and Jonas is one of Empress Lessia’s most trusted advisors.” Leaning forward he held out his hands for hers. When she took them, he smiled. “All we have to do is impress upon him the strength of our relationship, the solidarity between us, so he can return to his ruler and report on the future of the monarchy. What you choose to wear will have no bearing on that.”

  She gave him an amused smile. “Tell me, how do you propose we do that, considering we’ve barely had time to catch up with one another?”

  “A kiss might convince him,” Aerelius suggested, leaning forward.

  She smiled. “Do kings and queens often kiss in front of foreign ambassadors?”

  “What fun will our life be if we don’t break molds, Freya?”

  She laughed. “I’m happy to break molds with you, Aer, but let’s avoid scandalizing the current monarchs.”

  “Speaking of catching up, I was thinking…” Aer gave her a sly smile. “After we meet with the Jotunn, would you be interested in a tour of the palace?”

  “A tour?” She gave him a curious look. She’d spent nearly a third of her early years in the palace and had presumably seen almost everything. “Of what?”

  “The areas you haven’t seen, perhaps a quick stop by your future quarters.”

  “My future quarters?” She thought about it for a moment, considering, and was surprised at how excited she was at the thought. “Yes, I suppose I would be amenable to that.”

  “I thought you might enjoy it. Now, at the risk of ending up with a pierced lung, I thought you might want to know that my mother has been itching to begin planning our nuptials. There’s a good chance she’ll corner you soon.”

  “Well, I expected that to happen soon enough,” Freya said. “Honestly, considering this has been arranged since we were children, I’m a bit surprised she hasn’t already designed it down to the last napkin ring.”

  “My mother never had a daughter, Freya,” he said quietly, staring down at their joined hands as his expression shifted toward serious. Smiling softly, he brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles. “Planning this wedding with you is something she’s been looking forward to for years.” Meeting her eyes, he gave her a gentle smile. “I know she could never replace Cina, but I hope you’re able to find a similar enjoyment with her.”

  Tears burned Freya’s eyes, forcing her to take a moment to collect herself. No, Ordona would never replace her own mother, but she’d never treated Freya as anything less than family. Freya could and would do all she could to return that sentiment.

  Squeezing Aerelius’ hands, she smiled. “I think I’d really like that.”

  The last time Freya was at the palace when visitors from foreign lands were present, she’d been ten, and she and Aerelius had spent much of their time spying on adult conversations from a passage behind the fireplace in the dining hall. It had been a horrifically dull conversation involving extended talk of Dystonian parchment, the quality of their mead, and whether or not importing leather goods from Jotunheim was worthwhile. The main points she’d come away with were that the apple mead of Teid was unmatched, the only region worth purchasing parchment from was Leford, and the leatherworkers of Jotunheim couldn’t hold a candle to those of Allanor, although they came in at a close second.

  This time, Freya and Aerelius stood in the throne room beside King Salazar and Queen Ordona’s thrones in their first appearance as a royal couple awaiting Lord Jonas Edrin of Jotunheim, nephew of and courtier to Empress Lessia. Freya prayed the conversation would be more riveting than the last she’d witnessed.

  “You’re fidgeting,” Aerelius whispered. He brushed a hand soothingly down her spine. “Try to keep your hands still.”

  She let out a quiet breath, then opened her fists and let a bit of magic swirl around her fingers to release some of her pent-up energy. Being nervous was a thing she was unaccustomed to, and now, as butterflies rioted in her stomach, she began to realize that it was an emotion she’d need to learn to ignore. That fact alone had her back going straight and her chin tilting up with a forced air of confidence.

  “Here they come,” Aer breathed as footsteps sounded in the hall. He took a small step forward, positioning himself directly beside her but keeping his hand on her back.

  For a moment, she expected him to stand just behind her shoulder, present her like the relative newcomer she was. When she realized what he was doing—telling any who saw them that she would be his partner, not his submissive—she could’ve kissed him.

  Presumably, the prince already had power and the respect of foreign dignitaries. With that small gesture, he was telling anyone who saw them that she deserved both of those things, as well.

  Yes, in that moment, she really and truly wanted to kiss him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as the door opened and the king and queen walked in. She brushed a hand across the fabric of her dress, immediately feeling underdressed for the occasion. The queen’s gown was resplendent in shades of yellow with white, glittering doves embroidered on the bodice. Her mantle, pale gray shot through with shimmering gold, was pinned to the shoulders of her dress, cascading in a waterfall of velvet to the floor. The king’s doublet—white with gold buckles—was worn over a gray tunic cinched at the waist with a gold belt, and his mantle, identical to the queen’s but trimmed in white fur, flowed behind him as he strode toward his throne.

  Atop their heads sat gleaming gold crowns. King Salazar’s was tall, made of thick gold and encrusted with rubies, while Ordona’s appeared to rise from her black hair in a sunburst of rubies, canary sunstones, and topaz.

  As Freya glanced at Aer, she saw that, while not nearly as regal as his parents, his outfit still spoke volumes of his status.

  The soft makeup and pretty braids Freya donned suddenly felt childish.

  Shaking off her doubts, she held her chin high and smiled as they approached.

&nbs
p; King Salazar gave them both a nod. “Our visitor should be here shortly, then you can be about your business.”

  “And Freya, I was hoping we could talk later,” Ordona said. “Come to my chambers once we’re done here.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Freya replied with a slight bow of her head.

  “I told you,” the prince whispered teasingly as his mother and father settled themselves on their thrones.

  Just then, the doors opened and two guards walked in, immediately taking flanking positions on either side. A herald with a mop of gray-streaked brown hair entered, then addressed the monarchs.

  “King Salazar, Queen Ordona, I present the Jotunheim emissary and nephew of Empress Lessia, Lord Jonas Edrin.” With a deep bow, the male stepped off to the side, making way for the lord to enter.

  Lord Edrin had the typical appearance of the higher class of Jotnar—attractive, tall and lean, with skin so white it blended almost seamlessly into his light gold hair. His eyes were pale gray, nearly as colorless as his hair, his lips full. He’d dressed in vanilla-colored leather, a poor choice, considering his complexion, although it didn’t hide the undeniable handsomeness that lurked in the cut of his jaw and broad shoulders.

  “Your Majesties,” he intoned with a deep bow. “It is a great honor.”

  “Lord Edrin,” the king said. “I hope your trip from the north went well.”

  “Quite, Your Majesty.” He flashed a smooth smile. “We made excellent time. Your hospitality during my stay in Iladel is much appreciated.” Turning, he faced Freya and Aerelius and held out his hands. “And these must be our future monarchs!” He barely spared a glance at the prince, instead studying Freya. “Lady Balthana, is it?”

  “It is,” she said with a nod, keeping her expression neutral. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Edrin.”

  “Your reputation precedes you, my lady,” he said. A small, slightly unsettling smile curled his lips. “One of our emissaries visited Watoria two years back and heard a good deal about you from one of their senior marshals. Ashton Carinald, I believe was his name?”

  Freya angled her head a bit and smiled. “Yes, Officer Carinald and his fellow marshals taught me a great deal.”

  “Indeed,” he said, his lips twitching slightly.

  Freya held his gaze, forcing her eyes to not narrow as she was, again, hit with the urge to flare her wings. “It’s a shame you were unable to make the trip yourself. Allanor is a beautiful realm with much to offer.”

  “And now one of its fiercest protectors will be ruling all of Lindoroth.” He gave them all an easy smile.

  “The Watorian marshals are more than capable of protecting their lands, Lord Edrin,” Freya replied. “They had a large hand in training me, after all. Much of what I know is thanks to them.” She gave him what she hoped was a sweet smile. “Especially when it came to dispatching draugs who’ve slipped in to harass the locals. Their training in that regard was quite unmatched, truly.”

  Aer’s fingers stiffened on her back.

  “Ah.” Jonas nodded knowingly. “Yes, the lesser creatures of Jotunheim often cause some headache or another. I hope they didn’t make your job too difficult.”

  Only when they’re robbing my citizens, she wanted to say.

  “I’ve learned to hold my own quite thoroughly.”

  “Well, then I dare say your kingdom couldn’t be more fortunate.”

  She smiled graciously. “I will do all I can to live up to such praise, my lord.”

  “How long do you plan to stay, Lord Edrin?” the prince asked. His tone had shifted, all sense of playfulness or easy taunts gone.

  “That is yet to be determined, Your Highness,” Jonas said, finally turning away from Freya to face the king and queen. “I was hoping to explore your markets a bit, see what new wares Jotunheim might be interested in acquiring from Lindoroth. There are a few other matters I’d like to address as well, but those can wait. I’d also just like to see the land,” he added with a smile. “Iladel and its surrounding areas are famed for their beauty, something I’d like to explore for myself.”

  “We’d be happy to provide a guide who can give you a thorough tour of the city,” the queen said. “My nephew Lazarus and his partner Collin are well-acquainted with the area. I’ll have it arranged for the day after tomorrow.”

  “Your Majesty, if I may?” Freya gave Ordona a small smile. “Your niece was so welcoming to me when I arrived. Perhaps Lady Calliwell and I could take Lord Edrin through the city? It would be a wonderful chance for me to revisit Iladel.” She smiled as Aer brushed an approving hand down her back. “And it would give me an opportunity to get to know one of our closest neighbors.”

  A smile quirked the corner of the queen’s lips, then she nodded her assent. “Yes, Freya, I think that’s a lovely idea.”

  “It’s settled, then,” the king said. “The palace is open to you, Lord Edrin. My guards will escort you to your guest chambers, and I’ll have the staff bring dinner to your chambers shortly.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesties,” Jonas said. He looked over at Freya and Aerelius and nodded. “My lady, Your Highness. It was wonderful to make your acquaintance.”

  Freya smiled. “Likewise, Lord Edrin. We’ll speak soon of our trip into the city.”

  With another bow toward the king and queen, Jonas left.

  As soon as the door shut, Aerelius turned to face his parents. “I don’t care for him. He reminds me a bit of a weasel.”

  Ordona gave him a chastising look. “Aerelius Harridan, you will bite your tongue!”

  The king lit a cigar then took a long puff and smiled. “It’s hard to disagree with him, though, Ordona, and I dare you to deny it.”

  “Insufferable,” Ordona huffed. “Every last one of you.”

  Chapter 25

  After shooing off Salazar and Aerelius, Ordona summoned Freya to her chambers to discuss wedding preparations.

  “We only need to get a few ideas flowing,” the queen explained as she and Freya settled in her solar. Piles of fabric swatches, sketches of floral arrangements, and detailed menu options lay stacked on the table in front of them. “The planners can take it from there, although you and Aerelius will have to make final approvals, of course.”

  “Oh, Aer said I could have free rein over our wedding plans,” Freya told her.

  Ordona pursed her lips. “And what led my overly-opinionated son to such a decision?”

  “He lost a bet,” Freya replied, grinning.

  Ordona sighed and shook her head. “You two… As much as I’d like to chastise you both for your foolishness, I can’t help but be reassured by how quickly you seem to have fallen back into your old ways.”

  Freya smiled softly and ran her hand over the swatch of champagne silk in front of her. “I am, as well. We still have a ways to go, but we’ll get there.”

  “Your guards and his have all reported that you seem to be establishing yourselves as a strong couple on campus,” Ordona said, her voice full of approval. “While knife-throwing contests might not be my ideal choice for expressing your affections for one another, I suppose it suits you both.”

  “You’ve been receiving reports?” Freya couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted, even though she’d likely have done the same thing in the queen’s position.

  “Of course.” Ordona picked up one of the sketches, a detailed drawing of a tall vase bursting with roses and Saithian cornflower, and examined it. “And with the exception of your first day facing one another, I’m quite pleased.” She handed Freya the sketch. “I don’t prefer cornflower, but with Salazar’s homeland being the source, it might be a good choice.”

  Freya took the page and examined the pretty bluish-purple blossoms, then looked over the piles in front of her. “On the way to Iladel, the ship’s cabin I was in seemed to blend elements of all five realms. Do you think we could do something like that?”

  Ordona nodded slowly, then began sifting through the parchment and bit
s of fabric. “Tradition is to represent the bride’s heritage with the menu, so I would recommend carrying on with that. For the rest, though, yes, we could manage a theme of unity.” She smiled at Freya. “I think that will speak volumes about the kind of monarchs you’ll be.”

  “What about Solstice?” Freya asked. “Will we still have a ball?”

  “After the wedding, dear,” Ordona said. “For now, let’s focus on your nuptials.”

  “Do you think the planners will be able to manage?” Freya asked.

  “Oh, you’ve got nothing to worry about there. They’re the best in all five realms.”

  For the next hour, the two of them sorted through the samples before them, tossing aside those they knew wouldn’t work and setting the ones they felt would in a small box that would be sent to the planners.

  There was a noise at the door, jolting Freya from her scrutiny of a sketch of a feathered wedding dress. Ordona’s eyes drifted past Freya and lit up. “Ah, Aerelius! Have you come to join the planning?”

  Before Freya could turn to face him, she felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders. “I’ve come to rescue my betrothed, actually,” he said. “As scintillating as this conversation surely is, I’d hoped to steal her away for dinner.”

  Freya patted one of his hands. “It’s fine, really. I can come find you when we’re done.”

  “No, no,” Ordona said, smiling at them both. “I think we’ve got a good starting point. I’ll send our ideas over to the planners and they can begin working on it. We can meet again soon.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course she is,” Aer said, sliding her chair back so she could stand. She scowled as he nearly pulled it out from under her in the process.

  “Really, Freya, go on,” Ordona said, smiling softly. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  Not needing to be told twice, Freya stood, hardly having time to push her chair in before Aerelius had taken her hand to drag her toward the door.