Fire Falling (13 page)

“You scared me again,” he muttered. “That’ll be the last time we do that.”

“No,” Vhalla insisted with a shake of her head. “I’ll get it, I just need more practice. I pushed too hard.”

He studied her carefully, and she yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted. She made no motion to get up, and he made no motion to remove her from his person. Vhalla’s eyelids drooped closed.

“Rest,” the prince instructed.

She shifted slightly, her ear against his chest. “Aldrik?” she inquired with another yawn.

“Vhalla?”

She struggled to find the right words. “
This
is a really, really awful idea.”

Vhalla felt him stiffen a moment, and he let out a small sigh. “I know.” His voice was barely audible. “I know. Now rest.”

Vhalla felt her consciousness fade as she was swathed in a comfortable warmth that only he could exude.

V
HALLA WAS ONE
of those perpetually cold people. With a small amount of body fat, likely due to her spotty eating habits when wrapped up in something, she was usually the first to complain about a chill. She had long since accepted it as part of her lot in life and dressed as warmly as possible to make up for it.

However, at this particular moment she was pleasantly warm. It was a surreal feeling and, in her half-sleep haze, she shifted, pressing herself closer to the source. That source adjusted itself beneath her before settling again. The unfamiliar sensation brought Vhalla back to awareness. Her mind was sluggish with sleep, and she struggled to make sense of it.

His heartbeat was the first thing she heard. Slow and strong against her right ear. The second thing she heard was the scratching of quill on paper. Vhalla cracked open her eyes and saw she rested in the crook of Aldrik’s left arm, which wrapped around her side. She was halfway onto his lap as he sat cross legged on the floor. Stretched across her was his right hand as he marked papers on the table.

The previous events came back in pieces, punctuated with a yawn.

“You’re up.” Aldrik placed the quill on the table and ran a hand through his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she responded groggily.

“I could tell.” His tone was flat but his posture had no heaviness to it. “I’m fairly certain you depleted most of your magic and fell into your Channel.”

Vhalla made a note to ask him, Fritz, or Larel about that later when she didn’t feel so sleepy. “How late is it?”

He shifted and reached out to the edge of the table. It had parchments strewn across it with all manner of scribbles on their surface. Aldrik pushed some pages aside, and a glint of silver caught her eye.

“Let’s see, eight-thirty.” He inspected the pocket watch.

“Can I see it?” Vhalla held out a hand.

He looked at her curiously but obliged. Vhalla turned the watch over in her fingers. The back was polished to a mirror finish, the front held the blazing sun of the Empire. Time pieces were rare because those who understood their strange mechanics were few and far between. Vhalla stared past her reflection in the glass that covered the obsidian and alabaster face of the watch. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Aldrik replied awkwardly.

“I’ve never held one before,” Vhalla mused aloud. The few clocks she had ever seen were large, like one at the circulation desk in the library. “It’s like holding time itself, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“I wish I could make it stop,” she breathed.

His hands closed over hers and the watch, shutting the front latch closed. “If you could, what would you do?”

Aldrik’s breath was warm on her cheeks, and Vhalla was keenly aware of how close they were. He held her in one arm, the other hand holding both of hers, her side pressed along his chest.
What were they doing?

“I ...” She would be lost in those black eyes if she wasn’t careful. Vhalla straightened. “What’re you working on?”

“This?” Aldrik motioned to the parchment, allowing her to save them both from themselves. “There is the exciting job of checking our stock, making sure we have enough supplies to make it to the Crossroads. There were one or two discipline reports; I screen them for Father.” He paused; she followed his stare to one piece of paper that was completely full of his slanted scribbles. “I also began taking some notes on our Bonding.”

“On us?” Vhalla glanced at the paper.

“There is not much information on Bonding. I wanted a record I can look back on later if anything strange happens.”

She bit her lip, unsure how she felt about her experiences with Aldrik potentially being read by someone else. “I suppose it makes sense. If you need any insights from me, let me know.” Vhalla offered, and he nodded. “Does your brother help you with the other things?”

“Baldair?” Aldrik pushed his hair back with both hands. For a moment he looked like the man she’d met back at the palace; at least until the hair fell back messily around his face.

“He is not really the type for official business.” Aldrik’s voice was cool. “He said you two had a strange relationship.” Aldrik raised an eyebrow at her statement. “When he came to my cell, during the trial.”

“Did he?” Aldrik chuckled darkly. “That is one way to describe it.”

“You don’t get along.” Vhalla didn’t need to have siblings to see it.

“Our relationship works when we need it to, how we need it to. We normally have an understanding.” His guarded words and tone made it clear she wouldn’t get any more out of him.

Vhalla yawned again despite herself. “I should go, I suppose.” She glanced away. In truth, she had no interest in leaving.

“You have not eaten yet.” The sentiment seemed to be mutual. “I could get us some food.”

“All right.” It was easy to agree.

Aldrik stood and stretched. He grabbed his chainmail from where it hung on a peg by his other armor and pulled it over his head.

Vhalla leaned back, studying the subtle grace to his movements. “Is chainmail really necessary in camp?”

Aldrik paused, and she watched his face become pained. “You can never be too careful,” he murmured. His demeanor changed back before Vhalla could comment on it. “Wait here, I will return shortly.” She nodded and he slipped out of the flap.

Vhalla dropped back onto the pillows strewn about rug. The whole evening, the past day, had been completely surreal, and she didn’t want it to end. He wanted her closer, or so he had said. It put butterflies in her stomach as much as it put alarms in her head.

She groaned, covering her eyes with the back of her forearm. The smart thing to do would be to end this now, whatever
this
was. It would be best to apologize, refuse, leave, and prevent anything further from happening. Vhalla tilted her head back and watched the flames dance in one of his hanging braziers. That would have been the smart thing to do, but what she actually did was lay there until he returned.

“My, you look comfortable.” Aldrik wore a lazy smirk.

“I’ve not had a real pillow to sleep on in over a month,” she reminded him, sitting.

“So take one.” He shrugged, placing a small sack on the table.

“I cannot take your pillow.” Vhalla accepted a roll he handed her.

“Why not?”

“Oh yes, by the way, the Crown Prince Aldrik gave me a pillow. That’s normal right?” Vhalla rolled her eyes.

“I hear it is all the rage for ladies’ gift-giving in the East. You mean to tell me my sources are incorrect?” Aldrik grinned.

“Oh cute.”

Vhalla grabbed one of the pillows in question and threw it in his face. It hit him square and the prince stared at her. For a moment Vhalla felt her nerves take over.

“You just assaulted the crown prince.” He glared, but she saw the tell-tale glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Vhalla, I think that violates the terms of your probation.”

“Oh? Tell me what will you do to me?” She did her best to imitate one of his trademark smirks, and she was rewarded by the spark turning to a fire in his eyes.

“I could think of
quite a few
things to do to you.” His voice was gravely and deep, and Vhalla felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

Not having a good response, she took a bite of her bread and filled the silence with chewing. He chuckled and shook his head. Vhalla finished her roll, and he passed her a bladder of water. Vhalla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, considering the prince.

“You’re really nothing like they said,” she mused. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. Vhalla grabbed one of the smaller scraps of meat from the bag and chewed thoughtfully. “Everyone, who ever said anything about you. It was warnings, caution.” Vhalla tilted her head, thinking back. “When I had lunch with your brother, he said he saved me from you, that you’d eat me alive.” She gave a small laugh and a grin, but it quickly fell from her face as she saw him tense.

“I am sure my brother would be more than happy to save anyone from me.” Aldrik balled a hand into a fist.

“I don’t believe them.” Vhalla hoped that much was obvious.

“I know.” His voice was faint, and Aldrik avoided her gaze. “But they are right, you know. I’m not a good person to be around.”

Vhalla frowned, quickly gulping down the last of her food. She shifted closer to him, leaning over to put her face in front of his, searching his features thoughtfully. “No more of that, okay?” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you say the word.”

His lips parted slightly as his jaw went slack. “It’s late.”

“It is,” she agreed.

The silence that settled over them was an odd mix of comfortable and painful. Vhalla found her heart trying hard to escape her chest. Hesitantly, she reached out. Her fingertips brushed lightly against his knuckles. He held her gaze, and she closed her fingers around his.

“You should go,” he breathed. There was a tension there that Vhalla had never heard before.

“I
should
,” she agreed.

Neither of them moved.

“Vhalla,” Aldrik whispered. Her name strained against his lips, and she found some part of her relishing the sound.

“Aldrik?” she replied in kind.

He squeezed her hand fiercely a moment, and she held her breath. But as he relinquished his hold, she felt the insanity that had overcome them in that brief exchange dissipating into the air. “I will ride with you tomorrow,” he promised. “Don’t ride with anyone else. Stay by my side.”

Vhalla nodded. “I will. I promise.”

Aldrik helped her to her feet, and she stood facing him, her fingers still in his. Slowly he raised her knuckles to his face and gently pressed his lips against them. His mouth was soft and the heat of his breath sent a small shiver down her spine.

Vhalla put on her boots and crossed the few steps to the entrance of the tent and stopped, turning. “Aldrik, tomorrow.” Vhalla paused, the words sticking to the inside of her throat, she swallowed hard to free them. “Will all this be a dream?” His brow furrowed a moment. “The next time we meet, will it be as though none of this happened?”

“Of course it will be,” he said very matter of fact. Vhalla felt her chest tighten. Aldrik crossed the distance between them and placed his palm under her ear, his fingers wrapping around the back of her neck. He leaned in close and she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. “To
everyone else
, of course it will be.”

“To us?” Vhalla didn’t know how a begging tone had slipped into her voice.

“For us, it is waiting four more days until we practice your Projection again.”

She smiled faintly in relief, hoping she understood his meaning correctly. “Until then.”

“Until then.” He straightened and pulled back the tent flap to allow Vhalla to disappear into the cool night.

Her stomach was nothing but butterflies, and she suppressed a strange noise of elation as she walked back to her tent. Vhalla had never known a feeling quite like this before, and she found she enjoyed the bubbles it put in her blood. Four more days; it was far better than a month. Vhalla cupped one hand over the other, feeling phantom lips upon her skin.

Aldrik had been right, it was late. Most of the fires burned low and were located toward the center of camp. Along the edge there were few people. She made it far enough away from Aldrik’s tent before someone noticed that her presence could have been a result of any number of reasons. The quiet night began to subdue her as she neared her tent with every step. She needed to apologize to Larel.

Larel was curled up in her bedroll, and she made no motion as Vhalla changed silently. The air was cool against Vhalla’s bare skin as she undid the bindings she had begun to wear over her breasts to prevent uncomfortable chaffing in her armor. Vhalla’s mind instantly thought back to the prince’s warmth, and it sent a chill of a different kind through her. She sighed as she crawled into the scratchy wool of her blanket.

Vhalla had been content to let things with Larel go until the morning. But the Western woman had only been feigning sleep, and Vhalla was quickly locked into a staring contest. Larel regarded her thoughtfully and allowed the silence to stretch on until it was clear that she was waiting on Vhalla.

“I’m sorry for making you set up the tent alone today.” Vhalla’s ears burned with embarrassment.