“Enough!” Vhalla fumbled over her words, her emotions running high. “Don’t you
ever
make him feel, or suggest that he should, feel guilty for me or on my behalf.” She glared at the golden prince. “And don’t pretend like you somehow know, know how ...” Vhalla felt her insides twist, the currents in her mind cloud. “How I, or, how he ... How we ...” She heard her voice crack, she didn’t want to confront this here.
Prince Baldair’s face fell.
Aldrik spared a glare for his brother before turning his back on him to face Vhalla. He placed one hand on her shoulder, the other gingerly atop her wounded cheek. Aldrik tilted her face to his, and she met his eyes shakily.
“Vhalla,” he whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “It’s all right, that’s enough.” She relaxed under the familiar warmth of his gaze, and Aldrik gave her a small smile that was weakly returned.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Prince Baldair murmured.
Aldrik’s hand dropped from her face, but his left remained on her shoulder as he turned to assess his brother.
The younger prince stared at the scene before him with wide eyes. “You really do care for her.”
She felt Aldrik tense at the statement, but he made no motion to move away; if anything, his hand tightened slightly. Vhalla’s heart beat hard. She desperately wanted to leave, to get away as fast as possible. As much as she wanted to hear the bare truth of the answer to that accusation, she didn’t want it to be like this.
“And you ...” Prince Baldair stared at her.
Vhalla mustered the last of her courage to look at him unfaltering. She succeeded well enough—the prince was the first to look away with a shake of his head. He walked heavily over to a chair and slumped into it. The prince rested his temple on his fingertips, staring in disbelief at Aldrik.
“I’d only meant to help her. I thought you were—Aldrik, you’re too smart for this.”
“I know,” Aldrik replied quietly, the tension seemed to have vanished, and sorrow filled his eyes in its place.
“And here I thought, thought you ...” Prince Baldair chuckled and shook his head again. “Ah, never mind.”
“Prince Baldair.” Vhalla took a step forward, and Aldrik’s hand fell from her person. “I’m sorry for my actions today. More importantly, I am sorry for striking you.” She took a breath. “I would appreciate it if-if it isn’t used as a reason to end my life.”
The prince began to laugh; he placed a palm on his stomach and let the melodic sound break the tension in the air.
“No, I rather deserved it, didn’t I?” Vhalla stared at him, stunned. The prince turned to his brother. “It wasn’t her fault today, Aldrik. I think some of what she said actually may have gotten through to the men. You would’ve been proud if you’d seen it, I think.” Prince Baldair shifted to rest his cheek in his hand. “And Vhalla, I’m sorry. That was not a princely way to act.”
Vhalla studied him carefully. On the whole, this man had done more good by her than ill, and he had earned credit while she was on trial that he was spending now. He may be an emotional fool, but Vhalla wasn’t certain he was malicious.
“I forgive you, my prince,” she said. His words still stung but Vhalla put it out of her mind, at least for now.
Vhalla turned back to Aldrik—her tall, wonderful, dark prince—and gave him a relieved smile. His eyes fell softly on her, and it felt as though the tension that had been building between them was close to breaking. It was not an unwelcome feeling.
“Let’s go?” she asked.
He nodded, shooting a final glare at his brother before stalking out.
Vhalla paused briefly, turning. She assessed the fair-haired prince who stared curiously back. “What you wanted from me, I’m afraid I cannot give it.” Vhalla had come to accept that whatever happened, whatever they were, she would not be the one to end it between her and Aldrik.
“Tread carefully, Vhalla,” Prince Baldair cautioned. “I know a lot more about my brother than you. I may seem like an ass.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I
am
an ass at times,” he corrected with a chuckle. “But I am exactly what you see. He’s not. There are things about him you still don’t know.”
Vhalla pulled back the tent flap. Even if there were things, Vhalla wasn’t going to hear them from Baldair. Aldrik would tell her, in time.
“And Vhalla?” The prince stood. “Ride up at the front again. Don’t let this dissuade you.”
“Why?” she asked skeptically.
“Because I think it does the men good to see you with me.” He sensed her confusion and continued, “You are a symbol, Vhalla. And, despite what some may have you believe, you have more control over what you symbolize than anyone else.”
“I am no one,” she muttered, hearing Aldrik mounting his War-strider.
“Even something very small can cast a large shadow when it is close to the sun.”
Vhalla considered this for a long moment, searching the prince’s face for a hint of insincerity. She could find none and left him behind her before he had a chance to say something else that could potentially throw the fragile peace into disarray. For everything Prince Baldair was, and had been, somehow he didn’t feel like her enemy.
Aldrik took a foot out of his stirrup for her to use, offering her a hand to mount his horse. Vhalla’s cheeks grew hot as she swung up behind him in the saddle. Her hands fell lightly on his armored waist for balance.
“Where’s Lightning?” she asked.
“My brother’s Easterner rode him back when he went to get Fritznangle.” Aldrik spurred the mount forward.
The wind was fresh and warm on her cheeks after the oppressive atmosphere in the tent.
“Daniel?”
Aldrik nodded mutely.
“Is it a good idea to ride like this?” Vhalla asked softly, noticing the glances from the soldiers.
“I want them to see you with me.” He responded so quickly that there couldn’t have been any thoughts into his words.
“Why?” she breathed.
“Because I want them to know that if they lay a hand on you again, they will deal with me directly.” Aldrik’s voice was deep and harsh, and it made her want to grab onto him and never let him go.
He took them directly to his tent. Black Legion soldiers who had just finished setting it up were beginning to dissipate, and they all peered at her curiously as Aldrik ushered Vhalla within. Getting away from the world’s prying eyes was a relief, but it was equally nerve-wracking to have those prying eyes watch her being led with the prince’s palm on the small of her back.
The moment the tent flap closed, the braziers lined along the perimeter lit with flames. Aldrik didn’t seem to even think about using his magic. “Take this off, I’ll fix it.” He placed a palm on her wounded shoulder.
Vhalla nodded, beginning to unclasp the scale mail as Aldrik did the same. She felt comfortable and nervous at the same time. Aldrik took the plate from her as Vhalla shed her chainmail.
“So what happened?” Aldrik asked.
“Well ...” Vhalla sighed and recounted the events leading up to Baldair’s tent.
“You bested him in the end, though?” he asked after she had finished her story.
“I did.” Vhalla nodded.
“How?”
“I just moved ...” She wasn’t sure what answer he was looking for with such a question.
“Like with Elecia?” Aldrik glanced up from his work on the plate. His thumbs ran over the red hot metal.
“Yes ...” Vhalla trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blanks. He didn’t, and frustration snuck up on her. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Keep doing what?” He seemed startled by her tone.
“You can’t keep asking cryptic questions and storming off to sulk without giving me answers that I know you have.” Vhalla was no one, and yet she fearlessly made demands of the crown prince.
Aldrik just sighed and let her. “Fine, stubborn woman.” He placed her repaired armor off to the side. “Do you not think it strange that you are suddenly capable of besting soldiers with
years
of practice?”
“We’ve been training.” It was a cringe-worthy excuse when Vhalla actually thought about it.
“You were sloppy, at best.” When Aldrik was honest, he held back nothing. “I was beginning to fear for what we would need to do to keep you alive when we reached the North.”
“So, what happened?” Vhalla pressed.
“You fight as I do.” Aldrik met her eyes.
“Of course I do.”
“No, Vhalla.” He shook his head. “You fight
exactly
as I do.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“I can only assume it to be the Joining,” Aldrik mused.
“But, we’re not Joined anymore.” They had not attempted it either since that first night weeks ago.
“No, but the Bond was widened, our minds were—” Aldrik paused, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. “Our minds were linked. It was a reckless thing to do on my part given how little is known about its effects.”
“So, then,” she fumbled, her words struggling to find the source of his discomfort. “Why don’t we close it?”
“Even if we could, I would not.”
“But ...” It seemed to be causing him so much distress,
why not end it?
“Because now I can have some measure of security that you will make it through this war alive.”
Vhalla was stunned into silence. She couldn’t take the weight of his gaze and engaged in a quick staring contest with his table. “I know,” she began her confession. “Larel told me about Bonds. That, if I die, you’ll die.”
“That’s just a theory.” Aldrik brushed away the thought easily. “And not by any reputable scholars.”
“But—”
“I want you to worry about yourself.” He sensed the remaining fight in her. “Vhalla,
please
, promise me that.”
The firelight played tricks on her eyes. It made the man who was nearly seven years her senior look like nothing more than a frightened child. Vhalla moved without thought, taking his hand in hers. Aldrik gripped her fingers tightly, and she erased all thoughts of doubt.
“I will promise you, if you promise me that you will stop running away and hiding these things. I don’t want to feel shut out from you.” Vhalla’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Aldrik nodded silently, sparing her any further explanation.
“We should practice your Projection.” He broke them out of their trance.
“Oh, right.” Vhalla had completely forgotten they’d actually planned to work together that evening.
“Let’s put magic aside, for now, and focus on seeing how far you can go.” Aldrik situated himself before the table, adjusting his papers.
“Sure,” she closed her eyes.
“Would you care to lay down first?” Aldrik reminded her that her physical body went limp the last time. He grabbed one of the pillows and propped it against his leg.
Vhalla hesitated, the invitation clear. The prince feigned attentiveness to his paperwork, clearly apprehensive of whether she would accept or reject him. Prince Baldair’s words of caution frustratingly replayed themselves in Vhalla’s mind and she lay down quickly, her head resting on his leg. She would not let the younger prince and his games get in her way.
Vhalla slipped out of her body shortly after closing her eyes. It was surreal to see her physical form so still, as if barely breathing. Aldrik watched her closely, waiting for any signs of trouble.
I think it’s easier,
Vhalla said with a thought.
“It seems so,” he agreed.
Can you hear me even if I’m far away?
“One way to find out. Go slowly,” he cautioned, but didn’t tell her to stop.
Vhalla passed through the canvas of the tent flap. There was some resistance, but nothing unmanageable. People walked about from one campfire to the next, but no one noticed her.
Can you still hear me?
“Without a problem.” Aldrik seemed excited by her progress, and it encouraged her onward.
She progressed forward in a straight line and discovered that it was only uncomfortable when someone walked through her. It was a strange chill, and the world became disoriented for a moment. But after the third time, Vhalla was beginning to adjust her magic accordingly, recovering faster.
“Are you all right?”
Yes. I’m on the edge of camp now.
“Go a little farther.”
Vhalla walked into the desert until the sun had dipped below the horizon. She called out to him regularly, but the link was consistent and strong. By the time she returned back to her body, there was little question that she’d begun to master the art of Projection.
Returning was simple; she listened for the pulse that had guided her back the first time and let go of her magical hold. But when her real eyes fluttered open Vhalla let out a soft groan at how the world spun.
Aldrik shifted, leaning over her. “What is it?”
“I think my brain is just-just returning slower from the distance.” She wasn’t sure if it made sense. There was a scratching noise, and she saw he was back to making notes. Vhalla struggled to sit.
“Lie down, Vhalla,” he scolded. She returned to her former position, his left hand ran over her hair gently. “You are amazing.” Aldrik’s voice was breathy and he focused on the papers instead of her. Vhalla stared up at him but he seemed to be talking more to himself. “Atop everything else, you will be the key to ending this war.”
“Do you think so?” Vhalla mumbled tiredly.
“I do.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt. “Now rest.”
Vhalla obliged and closed her eyes.
The weeks slipped by like the sand across the dunes. The desert was bleak and empty, but Vhalla’s days were full. Be it at her request or of his own accord, Aldrik recovered quickly from the shock of the effects of their Joining. Privately, he encouraged her to liberally rely on her link with him. He assured her that it did not affect him in any way.
Vhalla was cautious—at first. But the more she allowed that pulsing beat to take over her ears, the stronger and faster she became. It was as though her body was re-learning what it already knew, making every movement sharper and more precise.
Aldrik still rode with Elecia some days, and Vhalla up with the Golden Guard. Prince Baldair seemed pleased by her presence. The more time she spent with the younger prince, the more time she wanted with him in private. She had questions for his cryptic messages and sloppily veiled warnings. She wanted to ask him outright what he knew, what he meant. But their time together never extended beyond the march.