The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “I don’t know that I should risk another bite,” Aer said to Reginald, his jaw set as he laid his napkin on the table. “Our chef has outdone herself this time.” As the other guests were currently devouring their desserts, his words carried easily down the length of the table. He was trying to send her a message, that much was clear, because Aer would never skip dessert, nor would he say he couldn’t “risk another bite.”

  “Oh, darling, don’t be silly!” Ordona called back. “This is your favorite, after all!”

  Reginald grinned and elbowed Aer. “Well, I’d say it’s a necessary risk, Your Highness. Worth popping a button or two, don’t you think?” Then he laughed. It was low, full of amusement, but carried a tinge of something else.

  Freya nearly choked on the small sip of wine she’d just taken, recovering herself with an embarrassed wave of her hand when Ordona sent her a slightly disapproving look. A flicker of relief flashed across Aer’s face.

  The words weren’t exactly the same, but they were close enough.

  But that voice…

  Her anger toward Lessia and her idiotic attempts to belittle her were instantly forgotten.

  Yes, Freya was certain the man in the passageways they’d heard speaking of treason was the Dystonian king’s brother.

  Chapter 40

  Freya could hardly keep her wits about her for the rest of dessert. Myria, bless her, seemed only to notice Freya’s lack of interest in conversation, taking the opportunity to fill the lulls herself, asking Isadora and Lessia about the fashions of their lands and gushing over the sonnets Isadora had recited that she and Willem had written one another. By the time dinner let out, Freya all but ran to Aer’s side, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him into the hall.

  “I tried to get your attention a dozen times!” he hissed the second they’d gotten back to her room and she’d cast her silencing spell. “We really need some kind of signal, Freya.”

  “Perhaps if your mother had seated us together that wouldn’t have been an issue!” With a huff, she started digging through her armoire for something more comfortable to wear, desperately needing to be rid of the confounded dress she’d been tied into for the last five hours.

  “Well, I don’t know what you wanted me to do about it! And how do you think I felt? I was seated next to the man!” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Gods above, I’m supposed to go hunting with him.”

  “You’d best get your wits about you now, then,” she warned, tugging her pants on under her dress, then turning and indicating for Aer to loosen her laces. “Where are the others?”

  “Meeting us on the ramparts near the southern turret,” he replied, his tone so serious he didn’t even bother—or didn’t think to bother—with innuendos as he helped her out of her gown. She breathed a sigh of relief as the corset released, then held it against her chest as he handed her the shirt she’d chosen. He turned his head, giving her a bit of privacy as she tugged it on, letting the gown fall to her feet.

  “Did you tell them anything?” she asked.

  “Just that there was something we needed to discuss.” Quickly, she finished getting dressed, ignoring his impatient looks as she did.

  Once she was finished dressing, he said, “The quickest and most discreet way is through the tunnels.”

  She bit her lip, considering, then nodded. “I’d rather deal with a scolding than anyone following us.”

  “Agreed.”

  Quickly, they made their way through the tunnels, Freya maintaining her cloaking spell the entire way through. When they emerged from the passageway, they were in a chamber at the foot of the southern turret, the shortest and least guarded of the twelve that rose above the palace. A spiral staircase wound upward, leading to the ramparts on the top of the palace walls.

  They emerged a few moments later, high above the palace grounds. Guards were stationed along the walls every twenty feet or so, each standing stock-still as their eyes and senses roamed over the grounds, watching, listening, smelling for any hint of danger.

  They found Lea, Laz, and Collin sitting on a section of the wall that jutted out over the mountain in a spot where terrain was so rough it would be nearly impossible for anyone to scale or breach the walls in any way. Laz and Collin sat against one side, their backs against the merlons, Laz’s head on Collin’s shoulder, their fingers laced together between them, while Lea sat across from them.

  “Finally,” Lea grumbled when she saw them. “You know I don’t like being the third wheel, Aer, and Lazarus has had too much wine. He keeps making moon eyes at Collin.”

  “Well, we could leave,” Laz told her. “Aer insisted we needed to meet up here under cover of darkness immediately.” He frowned at Lea. “And now you’re the fifth wheel. We really need to find you someone, cousin.”

  She sneered at him, then looked at Aer and Freya expectantly. “Well?”

  Aer looked around at each of them. “What we’re about to tell you three doesn’t leave this spot, do you understand?”

  “Of course,” Lea replied as the others murmured their agreement. “What is it?”

  Freya tightened her enchantment, then, as succinctly as possible, they told the others of scenting the human in the garden tunnel and of all they’d overheard of the conversation in the queen’s chambers. Aer added in a few more details about information he’d gleaned when Freya wasn’t at the palace, mainly a few conversations that had stopped when he entered a room or came around a corner, along with odd looks between the king and queen. It was hardly more than curious behavior, but seemed worth noting.

  When they were done, Laz wore a confused look, Lea looked stricken, and Collin’s expression had slipped from suspicious to simply curious.

  “Do you think King Willem is unwell?” Collin asked, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

  “It’s difficult to say,” Aer replied. “This man sounded concerned, perhaps a bit scared, but we only heard a small portion of the conversation.”

  “Who do you think joined the conversation, then?” Laz asked.

  “I’ve seen Ervic and my father talking a few times in the past few weeks,” Aer said. “The conversations always came to halt when I stumbled on them, though.”

  “Does this mean King Willem’s brother wants to stage a coup?” Lea blew out a breath. “That’s… quite unfortunate, considering the timing.”

  “If he knows he’ll have the backing of Lindoroth, what better time than when all three nations are in one place to do it?” Aer asked, then shook his head. “I was so sure it would’ve been someone else. A guard, even an opportunistic cousin. The moment I heard that voice, however…”

  “A coup is quite a leap,” Collin said dubiously. “Nothing either of you have told us indicates something that treasonous.”

  “And even if that were the case, he won’t do it at your wedding,” Laz said.

  “You sound awfully sure of that,” Lea told him. “Wouldn’t a large, enclosed gathering where everyone’s guard is down and their intoxication levels up be the ideal time and place?”

  Collin shook his head. “No. If he wants to overthrow his king and hopes to use the help of Lindoroth to do it, he won’t risk destroying an alliance by disrupting a royal wedding that’s been planned for nearly twenty years. Even if Ordona and Salazar have agreed to help, they wouldn’t allow it.” He gave Aer a questioning look. “You were next to him all night—how did he seem to you?”

  “Friendly, to be quite honest. He seems to be the more pleasant of the two. Willem only spoke to my father, ignoring any other attempts at conversation, but Reginald seemed to want to engage with everyone.”

  “Did he say or do anything to indicate he might want to overthrow his brother?” Collin asked.

  “No, but I wouldn’t expect him to, either,” Aer replied.

  “And Willem?” Laz asked. “What was he like?”

  “Standoffish. Aloof. He didn’t seem at all concerned with what I may think of him, despite the fact that I’ll be king
in just under a year.” Aer thought for a moment. “He and Reginald hardly spoke to one another, now that I recall.”

  Lea narrowed her eyes and chewed on her lip, twirling a lock of her curly black hair around her finger. She’d worn it down tonight, letting it cascade in tight curls over her shoulders. “Perhaps this is a silly question, but do you think it might be time to confront Uncle Sal and Aunt Ordona? Or at least the commander? You two have a right to know if something could threaten your wedding.”

  Freya shook her head. “No, Collin’s right. With the amount of planning they’ve—Ordona, especially—put into this, there’s no way they’d risk something happening. It’s too risky.”

  “Exactly,” Collin said. “If your suspicions are accurate and if they’ve got a hand in helping Reginald, I’d bet my family’s fortune they’ve agreed to help him after their successors are wed.”

  “The reception, then?” Laz asked.

  “More likely in the following days,” Aer replied, frowning absently at a spot on the ground. “Not at a point when both current and succeeding monarchs are shut in one room. It would be too easy to destroy our lines as well.” He gave a heavy sigh and ran a hand roughly over his face. “My parents are putting us on a ship for Errest the day after the wedding.”

  “They’re what?” Freya asked, stunned.

  “That’s what my father wanted to discuss with me earlier,” Aer told her. “Our ‘honeymoon’ is a trip around the continent, greeting our future subjects and seeing the land.”

  Freya blew out a long breath, then shook her head. “You’d think they would’ve discussed that with us first.”

  Aer shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s a valid reason to send us off and it’s something we would need to do, or at least should do, anyway.”

  “This is all assuming that you two are correct in your assumptions,” Collin said, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “During the conversation you overheard in the tunnel, did anyone explicitly state that he wanted to usurp his king?” He lifted his eyebrows in question, waiting until Freya and Aer shook their heads. “Then perhaps we’re all blowing this out of proportion. The ‘she’ he spoke of who is dangerous—we don’t know who he was referring to, but it’s quite possible he’s seeking out aid to dispatch whoever this female is because Willem is being reticent. The logical assumption, of course, is that he’s talking about Lessia, but it could just as easily be an opportunistic human who is close with the royal family.”

  Freya nodded slowly. “Yes, good point.” She hadn’t realized just how much of a leap she and Aer had made based on what they’d overheard, which was admittedly very little. She let out a quiet breath and exchanged a look with Aer. “It’s entirely possible, probable, even, that we’re mistaken.”

  Aer nodded. “I certainly hope so, although based on the tone and urgency…” He rubbed a hand across his chin and shook his head. “It wasn’t something simple, that much is certain.”

  “Well, whatever it is, the king and queen want evidence, meaning a rash or quick decision is likely out of the question,” Collin continued.

  “And if said evidence makes itself apparent during their stay here?” Laz asked. “There’s still nearly a week until the wedding.”

  “Even if this was about a coup,” Collin added, “or some other significant move against the crown, which I’m still not convinced of, and even if they made their choice today to back Reginald, neither of them are stupid enough to do it before your wedding. It’s just not logical.”

  As they continued to volley theories and reasoning back and forth, Freya leaned against Aer and focused her attention on the mountains that rose up behind the palace. She tried to settle her nerves by telling herself that their parents were smart people and would never do something they didn’t wholeheartedly believe in. With her father involved, she believed that doubly so. Considering his involvement, though, the reasonable assumption would be that this…whatever it was, would require some type of military support.

  Still, she struggled with why they would conspire with a foreign royal to act in any way toward their monarchs, especially during such an important time for Lindoroth. Monarchs were limited to three centuries’ rule, after which time they would pass the crown to their successor, which was, in most cases, their eldest son. If they had no children, they would appoint a successor in much the same way the governors of each realm did—through a long and extensive vetting process that required the consensus of all four sitting governors. As Aerelius was the only royal son, Ordona and Salazar wouldn’t be foolish enough to risk harm coming to him or the female they’d chosen to rule with him.

  Aer’s words from the previous week—that she should always assume the worst—came back to her as she considered the damage that could be done to her kingdom before she even had a chance to rule. Whatever the king and queen were planning, or potentially planning with Reginald, it could be catastrophic if their actions truly went against the human monarchy. Whether it was a coup or not didn’t matter in her mind; if it was subversive in nature, it could lead to poor foreign relations at best, and full-out war at worst.

  Chapter 41

  The following morning, Freya was awakened by a knock at the door. Aer, bucking propriety entirely, had continued to sleep in her room each night, neither of them caring all that much what their guests might think of their sleeping arrangements. And, as they hadn’t gotten direction from their parents to change their habits, neither thought it necessary to do so.

  Although, Freya realized as she looked at him when she rolled over, she should probably have started insisting he wore a shirt.

  “Go away!” he hollered, earning himself a light backhand to the chest from Freya.

  “Shush, you!” she hissed as she got out of bed. Then, raising her voice, she said, “Coming!”

  “Perhaps you should kiss me,” he mumbled into the pillow. “That might make me a bit more hospitable.”

  She tugged on her robe over her nightgown and wrinkled her nose. “Your breath is atrocious.”

  He opened one eye and glared up at her. “And yours is like fresh spring daisies?”

  Lifting her hair from under her collar, she grinned. Then, tightening her robe, she walked to the door and opened it, barely managing to conceal her surprise when she saw Isadora on the other side.

  “Your Majesty! What brings you out this morning?”

  “Apologies, my lady…” she trailed off, momentarily at a loss for words when she caught sight of the shirtless prince, who’d sprawled out the moment Freya had left the bed.

  Noting her slight discomfit, Freya stepped into the hall and gestured toward Aer’s chambers.

  “Come, we can talk in here.”

  Isadora nodded, then followed Freya as she padded barefoot to the prince’s doors. Rodrick and Perinald remained stationed outside of her room, while Rissen and Cecilia followed the short distance to Aer’s room, taking up flanking positions on either side of the entry.

  When Isadora’s guards made to follow them inside, she waved them off. “I’m perfectly safe with Lady Balthana. There’s no need to hover.”

  Once Freya and Isadora were alone, a bit of the stiffness the queen seemed to carry in front of the others eased a bit.

  “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?” Freya asked as they settled on a divan beside the veranda doors. She was completely flummoxed as to what could’ve brought the queen to her doors so early in the day.

  “I was hoping we might talk a bit in private before we have any further gatherings…” She twisted her hands in her lap. “Oh, I’m feeling a bit improper now!”

  “Whatever you have to say won’t leave this room,” Freya assured her. As discreetly as she could, Freya cast a silencing spell over the room, leaving a small gap only at the door that separated her room from Aer’s.

  Isadora flushed and averted her eyes, looking suddenly embarrassed again. “It’s just… you’ll probably think me such a fool!”

  “Only if you don�
��t speak your mind,” Freya told her, softening her words with a smile.

  Isadora let out another breath. “It’s so rare that I’m around creatures with magical abilities, and while you and Ordona seem quite lovely, Empress Lessia…she…” She closed her eyes. “Well, she puts me at unease.”

  “Ah.” Freya nodded, immediately understanding Isadora’s reluctance to share her thoughts. Despite being a queen, she was still a human, and when placed beside a creature as strong and cold as Lessia, it would be foolish not to be fearful.

  Freya eyed her curiously. “Did something happen? You seemed relatively comfortable with her at dinner and when we spoke yesterday.”

  “Nothing overt,” Isadora said carefully. “Just a discomfort, I suppose.” She huffed. “The reason Lessia and I ended up together yesterday—and she found us before dinner, too—was because she just happened to be leaving her rooms at the same time as me. Willem didn’t seem concerned in the least, so I followed his lead when we saw her before dinner. But yesterday, when I saw her in the hall… it was as though she’d been waiting.” She shook her head, pursing her lips. “Perhaps my imagination is becoming overworked.”

  “Your Majesty, you don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Freya said gently. “I understand that our lands and our people can be a bit of an adjustment. What do you say about a signal, of sorts, when we’re all together, something you can do to tell me that you’re feeling uncomfortable? Perhaps running your finger on the rim of your glass? If I see you do that, I’ll steer the conversation elsewhere.”