The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  The queen let out a relieved sigh. “That would be much appreciated.” She cast a furtive look toward the hall, then looked back at Freya. “I apologize if I interrupted earlier.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t realize—in Dystone, well, we don’t share rooms with our betrothed until the wedding night. I just—I suppose I just assumed…”

  Gods above.

  Freya held up a hand to stop the poor woman’s embarrassed rambling. Sweet as she was, this was becoming so tiresome, Freya was beginning to think it was an act, and that was not a road she wanted to venture down when she’d hardly been awake ten minutes. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, truly.”

  Isadora deflated a bit, looking as though she wanted to say more.

  “Speak your mind, Your Majesty. Please, I won’t be offended.”

  “Oh, it’s not offensive! At least, I hope it isn’t.” She bit her lip again. “I was just wondering… what is it like? Being able to so openly show your love for your betrothed?”

  Freya blinked, surprised at the brazen nature of the question.

  Before she could respond, Isadora rushed to speak. “I suppose a more accurate question would be, what is it like to be in love with the male you were told you had to marry? Willem and I had an amicable enough relationship, although I am—was much closer to his siblings. To be quite honest my lady—"

  “Freya please,” Freya murmured.

  Isadora flashed a smile. “To be quite honest, Freya, I’m a bit jealous of how easy it seems for you.”

  “While our circumstances have never been easy, so to speak, Aer and I have always—well, almost always—had a strong relationship, and our parents have been close for centuries.” She gave a small shrug. “He’s always been a part of me, a part of my family. I consider marrying him as just a way of making that official. It isn’t an easy lot in life, to be sure, but being so close already is a bit freeing, to be honest.”

  “Well, as I said, I envy you.” Isadora smoothed her hands over her pink wool gown. “You’ve already surmounted a hurdle many of us never do.”

  “Leaving room for far more, I’m sure.”

  Isadora laughed. “Indeed, my lady, indeed.”

  A short while later, Freya bid Isadora goodbye and shut the door behind her. With a sigh, she walked to the door that connected her room to Aer’s and opened it, one hand on her hip, eyebrows raised expectantly. Sure enough, she found her fiancé standing there, shirtless and still disheveled from sleep.

  “Eavesdropping is quite a nasty habit, you know.”

  He pointed a finger at her and took a step into the room, his eyes dancing with triumph. “You didn’t tell her she was wrong when she said you were in love with me.” His lips tilted into that infuriating smirk he always wore when he caught her at something.

  Her heart quickened as she realized what she’d done—or not done, as the case may be—during her conversation with the queen.

  She took an involuntary step back, matching the two he’d taken forward, then tilted her chin up stubbornly. “Didn’t I?”

  He grinned triumphantly and began backing her into the room. “You did not.” Leaning down, he kissed her, long and slow, leaving her just a bit breathless as the backs of her legs hit his bed. “Just admit it,” he whispered, pulling back so his lips were barely a breath from hers. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Say what?” And damn the gods if her voice didn’t quaver as she spoke.

  Lifting her up, he laid her back on the bed, falling on top of her and caging her between his arms. “That you’re in love with me.”

  “You first,” she murmured, arching her back as he started kissing the column of her neck.

  “Oh, I’m quite in love with myself,” he said with a laugh. “I think that’s a well-established fact.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, despite the situation she’d landed herself in.

  Infuriating fool.

  “Tell me you love me, Freya,” he murmured.

  She ran her hands up his back, shifting her nails to talons and dragging them lightly across his skin.

  “You. First.”

  He grinned, but before he could reply, there was a knock at the door.

  “Goddess, help me,” he muttered, turning his head toward the door. “What?” he shouted, not bothering to hide his annoyance at whatever poor soul had interrupted them.

  “Apologies, Your Highness. Her majesty has sent me to retrieve Lady Balthana, but she’s not in her room.”

  “She is currently indisposed, Oscar! Tell my mother she’ll be there in an hour!”

  Freya laughed and sat up, shoving the prince off of her. Before he could grab her, she danced away from the bed and made for the door. When she opened it, she found a red-faced Oscar on the other side.

  She smiled brightly. “Please tell her majesty I’ll be along shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

  “Of course, my lady. The dressmaker will be here in thirty minutes.” He cast a glance over Freya’s shoulder to where Aer lay on the bed, scowling, most likely. “She also wished for me to tell you she would have breakfast waiting for you, so there’s no need to have Dina bring it here.”

  “That’s quite thoughtful of her. I’ll get dressed and hurry down.”

  He gave her a quick nod. “Yes, my lady.”

  She shut the door and faced Aer, who was on his side, propped on his elbow. “Our sleeping arrangements will be the talk of the palace today. We should’ve considered that before the guests began arriving.”

  Aer gave her a lazy smile. “I can live with that, especially now that you’ve lost our little wager.”

  “I’ve done no such thing. I was merely… avoiding interrupting. She is a queen, after all. It would’ve been rude.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’ll break before me, Valkyrie. Mark my words.”

  Freya’s final fitting was a blessedly short event. Kallan only needed to take a few final measurements, and as he’d grown noticeably tired of the conflicting opinions between Freya and Ordona, he did his work quickly. After going over a few details regarding tea with the queen and empress that was set for the following day, Ordona had other matters to attend to.

  “You did wonderfully last night, Freya,” Ordona told her as she was seeing her out. “I know Lessia can be quite troublesome at times, but I wanted you to know you handled yourself well.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Freya leaned against the doorframe, her shoulders sore from the multiple wing movements Kallan had insisted on as he finalized her measurements. “My father told me she would try to push, but I didn’t realize in what sense. She was so…”

  “Conniving?”

  Freya frowned. ‘Conniving’ wasn’t exactly the word she’d have chosen to use to describe Lessia. Vulgar, perhaps, or even predictable, but conniving implied a subtlety that Lessia hadn’t seemed to possess.

  The flicker of a smile flashed across Ordona’s face when Freya didn’t answer. “Lessia is a creature of habit, darling. She wants to size up potential rivals and ensure they know their place beneath her.” She smiled. “Which you’ve demonstrated you are not.”

  Freya gave her a small smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  Ordona patted Freya’s arm fondly. “I know this is difficult for you, being rushed into your marriage. I wish we could’ve given you your full year at Aldridge, because I know that was something you looked forward to.”

  Freya sighed. “It was, but I think it’s for the best. After my father kept me away for so long, I just feel as though there’s so much I need to catch up on here.”

  “In good time.” Ordona pulled her in for a tight embrace. “You’re going to be a wonderful queen, Freya. Know that and believe it.” She pulled back, keeping her hands on Freya’s shoulders as she spoke. “Other leaders will try to test you and you’ve already shown that you will not be cowed. That’s something to be proud of.”

  And she was proud, if Freya was being honest with herself. She’d had her doubts
over the years, as would anyone with a lick of sense, but Lessia seemed to have been Freya’s first true test of how she would handle those who aimed to insult her or question her abilities.

  If anything, it made her more determined to prove wrong any who might try.

  .

  Chapter 42

  The next few days rushed past in a blur of final preparations, accommodating guests, and, when they had time, attempts to suss out what Reginald might be trying to accomplish on his stay in Iladel. By the time the eve of their wedding arrived, Freya, Aer, and their friends still hadn’t been able to uncover anything untoward, despite three more dinners with the visiting royals and a luncheon in the gardens.

  Freya was woken the morning before her wedding by Dina delivering breakfast, followed shortly after by Oscar requesting her presence in the ballroom.

  “When you are princess,” Aer mumbled as she got dressed, “I do hope you’ll make a law stating no one is to wake you before nine.”

  She smiled. “As the crown prince, shouldn’t you have already done that? And isn’t your hunting trip supposed to leave in an hour?”

  He opened one eye and glared at her. “I’ve half a mind to cancel.”

  “You can’t cancel, Aer.”

  “I’m the prince. I can do what I want.”

  Once she’d dressed—she opted for black wool leggings and a green tunic with black boots, aiming for comfort for what would surely be a busy day—she blew him a kiss goodbye and made her way down to the ballroom.

  She’d just reached the end of her wing when she paused. Spending the day with Ordona would be tiring at best, and after the past week, Freya was in desperate need of a buffer. So, she stopped at the junction of her wing and the main hall and turned to her guards.

  “Cecilia, could you tell the young Lady Calliwell that I’ve requested her presence in the main ballroom, please?”

  “Yes, of course my lady,” Cecilia replied, smiling her understanding. “Right away.”

  Freya watched as Cecilia strode off toward the guest wings, hoping Lea would already be ready to start her day.

  “A wise choice, my lady,” Rissen told her. “Lady Calliwell is quite skilled at turning a conversation.”

  “That she is,” Freya murmured. “Come, let’s take the long way.”

  When Freya arrived at the ballroom, walking a bit slowly to delay her arrival and give Lea time to make her way there, she found Ordona already fussing over its state of disarray.

  “No, no, no, the tall vases are to flank the doors!” she shouted at two servants who were in the process of hefting a shoulder-height marble vase.

  “Goddess, help me,” Freya muttered as she made her way across the room to the queen. She offered smiles to the servants she passed, hoping they would see that she, at least, wasn’t overly concerned with the proper placement of flora.

  “Freya!” Ordona smiled as she saw her approach. “Good, I’m glad you’re here.” She gestured around the room. “Doesn’t it look so lovely?”

  Freya nodded as she looked around the room, happy to see that her vision of a theme of unity had been fully realized.

  There were long tables set up around the perimeter of the dance floor, each clothed with linen of deep emerald reminiscent of the pine forests of Allanor. The goblets and settings were made of gold, mined from Caelora and studded with Edhilian emeralds. The space that remained open down the center of each table would hold vases bursting with cornflower and lilac, both native to the king’s ancestral homeland of Saith. Curtains the color of fresh snow draped the windows, replacing the gold ones that normally hung there. A handful of the palace’s pixies were fluttering about fussing with varying colors of light that would illuminate the the red and brown parquet dance floor, the wood of which had come from Allanor centuries ago and was laid out in a dizzying pattern of circular designs.

  “Your first dance will begin just over there,” Ordona said, pointing at the star that made up the center of the floor. “Then you’ll receive guests at the head table, where you’ll be seated with Sal and me, along with the visiting royals.”

  At that moment, Lea appeared beside them, giddy with excitement. “Oh, this all looks so lovely! Aunt Ordona, you’ve really outdone yourself!”

  Ordona gave her niece a small smile. “Thank you, dear. I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us.”

  Lea clasped her hands against her chest as she turned and took in the whole room. “Oh, won’t you please let me use the palace planners when I’m to wed?”

  Freya bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Lea laid her praise on a bit too thick.

  Pursing her lips, Ordona sent Lea a chastising look.

  “Grevillea, if you think I don’t know why you’re here, you’re quite mistaken.” She gave Freya a pointed look.

  Lea’s face soured at the queen’s use of her full name. She gave Freya a shrug that simply said, “I tried.”

  “May I stay, though?” Lea asked. “This really is quite exciting.”

  Ordona sighed but didn’t send her away, which, in Freya’s mind, counted as a win.

  The three of them paced around the room for the next few hours, watching and, at times, commenting on the decor or placement of certain things.

  “The flowers will be brought in tomorrow morning,” Ordona said as she watched servants walk in precariously balancing stacks of gold charger plates. She angled her head toward the entryway. “Come, let’s leave them to it. I’ll check the progress of the arrangements once Kallan arrives to start preparing you.”

  Freya and Lea exchanged an amused look at Ordona’s choice of words. Freya was beginning to feel a bit like a piece of game being prepared for roasting. As they reemerged into the hall, they began to make their way back toward the main hall.

  “Now, if you two would excuse me, I’ll be heading off—”

  Ordona’s words cut off as they turned a corner and ran into Reginald. Freya, quite literally, was stopped short, stumbling back a step as his broad body made contact with hers.

  “My lady!” Reginald Ristner exclaimed, gripping Freya’s arms to steady her. “Apologies, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  Freya took several steps back, straightening her stance and meeting his eyes as she did. “Not to worry, my lord,” she said with a smile, smoothing her tunic.

  “Lord Ristner!” The queen gave him a bright smile, one that seemed a bit forced. “Shouldn’t you be off hunting with the rest of the males?”

  He gave her a quick bow. “I wasn’t feeling quite myself this morning, so thought it best I remain behind, lest I slow them down.” He appraised his surroundings, seemingly confused. “I took a stroll to clear my head, and now I think I may have gotten a bit turned around getting back to my room. Perhaps you could direct me?”

  Before the queen could respond, Lea cut in.

  “Freya and I are actually headed in your direction now, my lord. We’d be happy to escort you.”

  Ordona opened her mouth, surely to object, but Freya spoke first.

  “Yes, it’s no trouble at all.” She smiled up at the queen, feigning innocence as best she could. “If it’s alright with you, Your Majesty?”

  For the first time in her life, Freya saw Ordona falter, giving her all the confirmation she needed that something untoward was going on between her queen and Reginald Ristner. Indecision warred in Ordona’s eyes for the briefest of moments before she gave a quick nod.

  “Yes, of course. As it’s on your way, it only seems logical.” Her eyes lingered on Reginald a second longer than was proper, considering the distant relationship most would presume they’d have. “Freya, I’ll see you at dinner.” She turned and began to walk down the hall, her four guards following closely behind.

  Once she was gone, Lea turned to Freya and Reginald. “Oh, dear. My apologies, Freya, but I just recalled my mother requested me for lunch!” She touched Freya’s arm and smiled. “I’ll come find you later, then?”

  Freya’s eyes widened a fraction,
unsure why on earth her friend would leave her with the man they thought may be contemplating treason against his own king.

  Recovering herself quickly, she nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll speak soon.”

  As Lea scurried off in the direction of the residential areas of the palace, Freya turned to Reginald. “Well, my lord, shall we?”

  Hands clasped behind his back, Reginald nodded and they began to walk. Freya racked her mind in an attempt to come up with a topic of conversation.

  “I’m glad we ran into one another,” he said. “I was hoping we might speak the other night after dinner, but it seemed you and Prince Aerelius slipped out before I had a chance to catch you. May we talk a bit?”

  “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “I know you’re quite busy, so I won’t take up much of your time, but as Willem’s newly-appointed emissary to Lindoroth, I just wanted to introduce myself to you personally.”

  “Newly appointed?” Freya gave him a curious look, gesturing down a hall for him to turn.

  “Yes, I’ve only just come into the job. Willem’s previous emissary recently passed away, so I was given the position.” His eyes scanned the corridor ahead, for what, Freya wasn’t sure. With Rissen and Cecilia behind her, and guards stationed every fifty feet throughout the castle, she didn’t know what type of threat he could possibly be looking for.

  “I see.” She paused a moment. “Is this your first trip to Lindoroth, then?”

  “It is,” he said with a nod, the lie flowing effortlessly from his lips. “I’ve been to the lands east of Dystone many times but have never made a trip to the west.”

  “You’ve been to the elvish lands?” Freya asked, surprised, her annoyance and suspicion instantly forgotten. The elves—creatures farther east than she’d ever hope to travel—were private, mercurial beings that rarely left their continent and were notoriously inhospitable to outsiders. To hear that a human man, so fragile in his mortality, had visited and returned was shocking, to say the least.

  “I have,” he replied, smiling at her reaction. “Avorell was an interesting land.”