The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “You’re not my possession, Freya. You never have, nor will you ever be.” He seemed to be struggling to control the irritation in his voice. “But you will be my wife, and I won’t tolerate other males staring at you as though you’re a prized mare!”

  “Oh, don’t you take that tone with me,” she snapped. “I’m more than capable of handling a drooling male, if that’s your concern. Which he isn’t, by the way.”

  “Your ability to handle yourself is the least of my concerns and you damn well know it.”

  “What are you so worried about, then? You know I don’t have feelings for him, so why not just let me deal with any potential advances? Really, Aer, do you think he’s the last male who will ever look at me?”

  “Of course not! But how would it look if I sat back and allowed other men to gawk at you? Especially when it was clear you were being too polite for your own good?”

  “I was being polite because he’ll be going back to his empress and reporting every small detail about you, me, and our relationship so far. He doesn’t need to tell her that you’re jealous and territorial and that I’m more than willing to verbally castrate him if need be. Not yet, anyway.” Softening a bit, she took his hands. “Unity, remember? We just need to show we’re happy and strong together, not that we’re going to bite the heads off anyone who looks at either of us the wrong way. We’re stronger than that.”

  Squeezing her hands, he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, then closed his eyes and sighed.

  “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey,” she whispered, waiting until his eyes met hers before continuing. “We’ve got plenty of time to show them who we truly are. You know better than to think I’d let someone walk all over me, and you know you can trust me not to feed into someone else’s advances. Right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” Keeping hold of his hand, she stepped back. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get some sleep.”

  Hand in hand, they started to stroll through the marble halls toward their rooms. When they arrived, Freya’s heart skipped a few beats as she eyed the set of doors not twenty feet away from hers that led into Aerelius’ chambers, trying not to think about how easily he could slip into her room, or she his. She’d been thinking more and more about their relationship, the expectations that fell on their shoulders because of it, and the fact that neither of them seemed to have any reservations about where they were headed as a pair.

  “Have Rissen and Cecilia brought up my things?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Aerelius replied. “I told them to leave putting them away to you.”

  “Thank you.” They stopped at her door and she turned to face him.

  Smiling, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, then her neck. “You are most welcome, my love. If you have any bad dreams, you know where to find me.”

  Rolling her eyes, she laughed and pushed his chest playfully, then stepped into her room. “Good night, Aer.”

  Grinning, he blew her a kiss. “Good night, Freya.”

  Chapter 29

  Freya tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up on sleep. After living for so long in a bedroom a third the size of this, her new one was too big, too open for her to sleep comfortably. The longer she lay awake, the more she thought over her circumstances, her upcoming nuptials, and the life that had been thrown at her feet a good deal sooner than she’d planned. She wasn’t opposed to a life with Aerelius, of course, but the other changes she was facing, the larger ones, weighed on her mind and rattled her nerves more than she’d anticipated.

  There was so much she could do with her role as monarch, more than what would ever have been possible as a typical Lady of Iladel, regardless of her family ties. She could speak for the lower classes, using her experience living in a rural area as a voice for the citizens who would largely go unheard otherwise. In doing so, she could help unite the citizens of all five realms and bring them together in a way that would make Lindoroth stronger as a whole.

  She could and would be a good leader, a strong one who her people would look to for guidance. One they would want to look to for guidance.

  But she’d no longer be Lady Freya Balthana of Allanor. In just two months, she’d become Princess Freya Harridan, and once Aer took his crown, she’d become Queen. Her name would become her husband’s, remaining only partially her own. She could keep her family name if she wanted, but she’d have to fight a good deal for it, considering her role. Although, the thought of not sharing her king’s name turned her stomach almost as much as losing her own.

  Eventually, she would be expected to produce an heir, something she tried not to cringe from. Females only cycled once every few years starting around the age of sixteen, and even then, it could take decades or even centuries for some Linds to become pregnant, as had been the case with both her and Aerelius’ parents. Multiple children were even more of a rarity. It would happen, though, and she needed to get over her nerves about becoming a mother long before then. She’d been fortunate to have three wonderful mother-figures in her lifetime and knew all she had learned from them would help shape her into a good mother to her own children.

  Then there was Aerelius, who’d fallen effortlessly into the role of fiancé, leaving her to catch up with feelings that were so clearly well-established in his mind. She could only assume his parents had done more to prepare him over the years than hers, not to mention her father had fed Aer information on Freya regularly. Byrric had given her updates on the prince now and then, but Aer’s level of familiarity with her felt much deeper than hers with him.

  Her annoyance at her running mind had nearly led her to slip from her room for a late-night walk, but she paused when she heard the door that connected her and Aer’s rooms open. A moment later, he slid into bed beside her.

  Turning to face him, she smiled. In the dim moonlight that shone through the window, she could see his dark hair was mussed from sleep, somehow adding to his handsomeness. “Hi.”

  “I heard you tossing and turning from the other room,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  She tapped her temple. “It’s just a bit noisy up here tonight, that’s all.”

  His mouth curved into a crooked smile. “Would you like me to distract you?”

  She laughed. “Whatever you’ve got going through you mind will most certainly not put me to sleep.”

  Placing a hand on his heart, he looked at her in mock outrage. “I take offense to such assumptions, my lady.”

  “Alright, then. What do you propose?”

  Idly, he took her hand, linking his fingers through hers as he pondered her question.

  “Well, I suppose we could sneak to the kitchens for a snack, although at this hour, Maghda might have us helping prepare tomorrow’s breakfast.” Smiling, he kissed the back of her hand. “You could tell me about your life in Watoria.”

  Propping herself up on her elbow, she frowned curiously. “I thought Byrric kept you informed on how I was doing?”

  “Of your training, education, and social standing, certainly. Tell me about all the rest. The things he didn’t see on his brief and infrequent visits.”

  “You mean my work with the marshals?”

  “I’ll be honest, Freya, I questioned Byrric’s sanity a bit when he allowed you to work for them.” Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, he smiled softly. “I’m glad he did, though. You seem stronger for it.”

  She laughed. “One might’ve thought, considering who my parents were, that the marshals would’ve brought me on without testing my mettle first. But after I went through their training regimens, I was thankful for it.”

  “What did you like most about working with them?”

  Freya pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. “Helping people. Knowing I was playing a part in keeping the city safe.”

  “You said you faced another spirit user once. What was that like?”

  “Twice, actua
lly, but one was part of the constabulary’s training program. He was more skilled with negative emotions, true mental manipulation. He helped train us on what to expect and how to combat their power.” She bit her lip, almost embarrassed to continue. “The second one—he was like you, able to put his victims into a stupor. I found him with a knife at the throat of a female who’d just left a nearby tavern, and, well, you saw how I reacted to you that day in combat. It threw me off my guard enough that it took me a few moments to realize what he was.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “So what happened?”

  “I dragged him to the roof so the girl could run, then he stunned me before I could get my magic up to block his,” Freya said, cringing at the memory. “Nearly dropped him, the fool. He hit me here and here—” she touched Aerelius’ sternum and temple “—and I just barely got my wits about me when he made to kick me back down to the street.”

  “You killed him, then?”

  “Bit him and loaded him into a marshal’s wagon.” She touched a finger to one of her incisors, which were slightly longer than the rest of her teeth. “My fangs have just enough venom to stun, but not kill. One of the officers worked him over a bit at my request, then he was sent to a labor camp for a few months.”

  “Do you think he learned his lesson?”

  “I certainly hope so.” Frowning, she bit her lip. “Aer, can I ask you something?”

  He smiled softly. “Of course.”

  “This.” She held up their linked hands. “When you hold my hand, put your arms around me, say the things you do… is it all for show?”

  He blinked, surprised. “Do you really have to ask?”

  “I like to think we’re both getting very good at playing our parts, but you’ve been at this far longer...” She trailed off, feeling suddenly silly that she’d dragged the conversation here.

  “I’m not playing a part with you, Freya,” he said quietly. “Certainly not here in this room. I’ve always admired you. Even when we were children, you were one of the strongest people I knew. I suppose I didn’t acknowledge that as any sort of true feelings until you were gone and I knew we’d be separated for so long. Consider things like this…” he held up their hands “…as my way of testing the waters.” Kissing her palm, he asked, “What about you? You’ve seemed quite… receptive.”

  She smiled. “I am. Even though it’s been a few years since we spent any amount of time together, I’ve compared every new friendship I’ve had since to ours. I missed our banter, the ways we used to trick one another. When I came back, I’d hoped we could fall back into what we had, but then I saw the way you fought me in combat, the look you gave me when I saw you the first night in the dining hall…”

  He laughed quietly. “That was shock, Freya, and nothing more. I expected to see you for the first time at the palace before first term started, so I was a bit caught off guard when my betrothed arrived in the dining hall in full leathers, with no notice, wearing a glamour disguising her as a commoner. Had my magic not been so strong, I don’t think I would have recognized you. Even though Byrric always kept me updated of your progress, the strength of your magic surprised me.”

  “It surprises me sometimes, too,” she murmured.

  “Why don’t you use it more often in Combat?”

  She shrugged. “I prefer physical fighting to using spells. Using a spell in the midst of a physical fight would end things too soon, giving neither of us a true challenge.” She propped herself up on her forearms and grinned. “It’s quite versatile, though. Would you like to see?”

  He arched a brow. “I’m not sure. Would I?”

  She drummed her fingers lightly on his chest, then pulled her hand away and propped herself on her elbows. Aer tensed and his eyes widened as phantom fingers began to crawl up his torso.

  “Freya—” His words were cut off when her magic drifted around his neck, the tendrils of power dragging lightly across his skin. Another invisible hand of magic ran its fingers through his hair, weaving through the dark strands and giving a solid tug.

  “That is… something.” He swallowed hard and stared at her. “What else can you do?”

  Smiling, she pulled the magic back in, releasing his neck and hair. Holding out her hand, she focused her power in her palm, forming it into the translucent blade of a dagger. “This kind of thing came in handy when I had to handle more than two assailants.”

  Reaching out a hand, Aer touched his finger to the razor-sharp blade, gently caressing her magic. “It doesn’t feel sharp,” he whispered.

  “Because I don’t want it to hurt you,” Freya replied. “If I did, that would’ve taken your finger off.” In demonstration, she tossed the blade upward, embedding it in the high ceiling.

  He gave her a chastising look. “I don’t think either of my parents will be fond of knife gouges in the ceiling.”

  “What little you think of me,” she said, laughing. She held out a hand, calling the magic back inside. Once the blade disappeared, she flicked her fingers, instantly repairing the damaged wood. “See? No harm done.”

  Laughing, Aer turned his head to look at her. “Will you show me something else? Something that doesn’t involve physically tormenting your fiancé or damaging palace property?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she thought for a moment, then rolled onto her back and faced the ceiling again. She waited for him to do the same, then with a wave of her hand, the ceiling disappeared, revealing the night sky above.

  Biting her lip, she smiled at him when she saw his eyes go wide. “My mother taught me not long before she died. On days when the weather was bad, it was our way of spending time outside. To anyone walking past, all would look normal.”

  Aerelius smiled as he gazed up at the open sky. “You still hate the rain, then?”

  “Almost as much as I hate being cooped up inside.” She waved her hand one more time, causing the outer walls to fade away, revealing the gardens that her chambers were adjacent to.

  They laid there for a few minutes holding hands in silence as the night sky passed overhead. It wasn’t something Freya had shared with anyone before, not even her aunt, but something about sharing it with him felt right.

  “Aer?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you nervous?” she asked quietly.

  He was quiet for a moment, then he shifted to face her, propping his head on his fist. “I’m on the edge of terrified,” he admitted. “I don’t know the first thing about being a husband, and I know there’s a good deal you probably want to do before becoming tied down.” Smiling, he brushed a thumb over her chin. “What I do know is that I’m thankful we were able to get to know one another without the pull of a mating bond holding us together.”

  Freya took his hand in hers, placing them palm-to-palm.

  “What do you think it will be like?” she asked quietly. “The bond, I mean?”

  “It’s a blood bond, so I’d expect it to be… intense,” he said. “My father said it’s different for everyone, though.”

  Frowning, Freya examined where their palms were joined. In just over two months, a royal priest would score each of their palms with a knife, then they would join hands as they spoke their vows and an incantation would be recited. It was simple, but also nerve-racking, considering it would be done in front of hundreds of people.

  Aerelius touched a finger to her forehead. “What is it?”

  Frowning, she tried to gather her thoughts, struggling with the best way to answer. Discussing deep emotions didn’t come naturally to her, so putting into words the things going through her head was more difficult than she expected.

  “Being nervous is… not a thing I’m accustomed to,” she said slowly. “Yet I’ve experienced it at least a dozen times since I’ve arrived in Iladel and it seems there’s a good bit more of it to come. It’s a bit off-putting.”

  He gave her an understanding smile. “You don’t always have to be tough as nails, Freya. Not with me.”

  “It goes a
gainst my nature a bit,” she admitted, smiling wryly.

  He considered her for a moment, then put his hand on her hip and slid closer.

  “Can we make each other a promise? Here and now, not in front of all the people who will be watching us marry?”

  “What kind of promise?”

  “To allow ourselves to be vulnerable with one another. Our lives as monarchs will sometimes require us to be cold and harsh. I’ve watched that bleed over into my parents’ marriage, and I would prefer not to follow that same path. You and I were friends before anything else and that’s something I’d like to maintain.” His eyes softening, he brushed a thumb across her lower lip. “At least, until you’re so desperately in love with me that all feelings surpass those we have now.”

  Closing her eyes, Freya breathed a sigh of relief. This was why she knew he would be good to her, why he’d be a good husband, why she knew he would be a person worth spending her life with. He cared about her, about her happiness, and about their happiness as a couple. There was little more she could ask for in her situation.

  “Alright,” she said with a laugh. “I promise to saddle you with all of my doubts and worries for as long as we live. And when you’re so desperately in love with me you can’t see straight, I promise not to taunt you too mercilessly.”

  He laughed. “Likewise.” Pausing for a moment, his face turned serious. “Do you trust me to do all I can to make you happy?”

  “Always,” she whispered. “Do you trust me?”

  Running his eyes over her, he brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. “Maybe… On one condition.”

  She rolled her eyes and groaned, but a retort had barely formed on her tongue when he touched his lips to hers. Surprised, she froze for a moment, then smiled, her mouth curving against his.

  “That’s your condition?” she whispered when he pulled back. “A kiss?”

  “Or two,” he murmured, his eyes dancing. “Is that alright?”

  For the first time since they’d kissed six years ago, she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

  He truly thinks I’d turn him away, she thought.