Water's Wrath (Air Awakens Series Book 4) (21 page)

“I think I should go East,” Vhalla mused aloud.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t yet.” Daniel pulled out a chair for her at the roughly crafted table that sat before the stone hearth of the kitchen. “I rode out to Leoul and asked for you after the North.”

“It didn’t feel right,” she confessed. “I’m a danger to myself and others. I’ve changed so much. I just haven’t been ready.” Vhalla leaned back, watching the world darken outside the window. “But this reminds me of how much I miss it.”

“I didn’t want for this to cause you turmoil.” Daniel rolled up his sleeves before carefully extracting the loaves from the oven.

“You haven’t. It’s almost so peaceful it feels wrong,” Vhalla admitted with a laugh.

“Don’t you think you deserve a little quiet?” Daniel placed the steaming bread between them.

“Maybe,” Vhalla confessed. She burned her fingers slightly, as she always did on the hot bread, too impatient to wait. “But I still have things to do.”

“What more could the world possibly expect of you?” Daniel shook his head. “You’ve given enough, you know.”

“Thank you.” Vhalla smiled tiredly at him. She couldn’t tell him what she still had left to do. “For now, though, I’ll settle for the taste of home you’ve given me.”

“You’re welcome to it anytime.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you . . .”

“Craig isn’t shy about occupying a room when things at his family’s home are less than ideal.” Daniel shrugged. “Jax has also slept in a bed many nights when he was too drunk to make it back to the palace.”

“If I ever do stay, you are not allowed to make me sleep in the same bed that drunk Jax has,” Vhalla teased.

“On my honor!” Daniel laughed. “But, truly. If you ever need to escape the palace . . .”

The unspoken words hovered and Vhalla claimed them with a small sigh. “Things are a
little
awkward.” She tore a piece of bread into crumbs. “But it’s my home, too. I need to learn how to be around him.”

“That’s fair. But the offer remains.” Vhalla was relieved that there was nothing in Daniel’s words or stare other than friendly compassion.

After their meal concluded, Daniel insisted on walking her back to the Tower. He explained the process of joining the palace guard, how the training was for the new recruits and for guards seeking to move up in rank. Daniel had the job of deciding who the best swordsmen were to be sent out into the Empire as keepers of the peace.

“Oh, one more thing.” Daniel shifted uneasily.

“What?” There was something about his face that nearly called into question her entire understanding of the evening they’d shared.

“I want you to know, that I didn’t lie to you then.”

“Lie to me about what?” Vhalla’s voice had fallen to a whisper.

“I
did
still look forward to seeing you return.” Daniel clearly struggled with putting his emotions into something tangible. But her heart was already beating in time with his. She already understood. “You really weren’t just something to ‘fill the hole in my heart’. You’re more than that. And, while sometimes I wish the stars had aligned for us just in a slightly different way . . .”

“You don’t have to explain it.” Vhalla took his hand and squeezed it lightly. Relief eased its way into his eyes and smoothed the tense line his mouth had been. “I enjoyed myself tonight. Actually, I’ve always enjoyed time with you. And, it’s easier now, now that we’ve had that time and there isn’t death on our doorsteps.”

Daniel’s fingers closed around hers for a brief moment. “So, come and visit me again?”

“Soon, I promise.” It was a promise that Vhalla’s heart had no hesitation making. And, it was only affirmed as he pulled her in for one more quick embrace before departing.

Daniel was everything that could have been. He was the embodiment of a simpler time and place where she was only a girl and he was a farm boy, where the only crowns in their lives would be the ones he’d braid for her out of field flowers. It was no wonder that they had both wanted to play at such a fantasy. But, neither of them were pretending anymore.

Vhalla headed up the Tower. For the first time in a long time, things were starting to feel simple. She caressed the watch around her neck, passing a faint glow in the library.

But nothing would ever be simple for long.

Vhalla saw the rose on her desk before the door even clicked closed behind her. Attached with a black ribbon was a note, in the same fashion as one she’d received once before. Her fingers traced the delicate velvet of the petals before flipping open the message.

Her eyes skimmed it twice, though it was only four words in a familiar, slanted script.

We need to speak.

V
HALLA RESIGNED HERSELF
to no sleep. She wasn’t going to sleep even if she stayed tucked in bed, so she decided to wander into the quiet palace.

There was no location on the note, no time marker, nothing other than four words. The only words with which he dared to intrude upon her world again. He’d trusted her to understand, and she did.

She had to stop to catch her breath as she stood at the window overlooking the Imperial garden. She hadn’t laid eyes on it since leaving for war. The last time she’d seen it, she’d snuck in to meet him for a lunch that had seemed so harmless at the time. Now she was sneaking in again to meet with that same prince under the cover of darkness.

Vhalla walked on the wind; she barely touched the ground, and the gravel didn’t crunch under her boots. As silent as a wraith, she slunk toward the central greenhouse, mindful of all the windows that overlooked the garden overhead. She doubted that any held watching eyes,
but if there were
. . . Baldair’s words of warning no doubt had merit.

She composed herself briefly, reminding and reaffirming what she was doing, before slipping into the greenhouse. The air was hot against the chill air outside. Her clothes instantly felt too heavy. Vhalla squinted into the dim light of the greenhouse.

Her eyes met another set, dark as the night sky. They belonged to a figure who was swathed in moonlight and shadow. His clothes were plain and comfortable, but stitched to perfection upon his lean form.
Always the prince, ever perfect
.

He watched her watching him. Vhalla studied the man who could still set her heart to racing.

“Are you real?” A voice, deep as ever, broke the silence; eternal, yet fleeting like the midnight hour.

“You’ve asked me that before,” Vhalla replied.

Aldrik looked away, thought knitting his brow. “I have, haven’t I?”

“When I first met you here,” she affirmed softly.

“I owed you an apology then also.” Aldrik let nothing be forgotten. He wasn’t the type to let a single detail slide. It was the right thing, but Vhalla resented the notion of confronting their last explosive time together. “I’m sorry for how I acted in the North.”

Vhalla swallowed, hard. “There may come a time when your apologies aren’t enough, Aldrik.”

The use of his name, plain on her tongue, gave him pause. He searched her face. “Is now that time?”

“No.” She didn’t string him along; there wasn’t any point to it. She was tired of playing games and hiding feelings. “What I said to you then, about the Bond—”

“And that you had no romantic feelings for my brother? Was the truth,” Aldrik finished bluntly. “I was too wrapped up in my world of lies to see it, even when you confessed it to me. By the time I was ready to admit it to you, you were gone, and all I could do was admit it to myself.”

Vhalla leaned against the door, her eyes fluttering closed with a sigh. Everything seemed out of time and place. Someone should’ve told her about her magic before it had spiraled out of control. Daniel was the one she should’ve met long before the prince. She should’ve split her time between swords and books. And the Aldrik standing before her was the man she’d needed months ago.

Nothing happened when she needed it to.

“I told you once,” Aldrik continued, “that I am not a good man.”

“You did.” Vhalla met his eyes once more.

“That I have never been a good man.” Aldrik took a step forward, moonlight outlining his form in silver. “But I realized that I was only the man I’ve let myself be. That if I want something beautiful in my life, if I wanted
you
, I had to make myself a person that could be the soil in which such beauty could take root.”

“It doesn’t work that way; you don’t just get to change and then we are something once more.”

“I know,” he spoke hastily before she could get too far down her train of thought. “I didn’t do it for you.” Aldrik paused. “Maybe, at first. But then I continued because I wanted to, for me. And every day I still struggle with that goal. Vhalla, I want to see if I can be a man that I can look in the eye when I look into a mirror.”

“How’s it working out?”

“Some days are better than others.” Aldrik shrugged. “I can still be an ass.”

His deadpan remark sparked laughter in her. The notes were still heavy, but it was enough to tug the corners of his mouth into a small smile.

“We’re hopeless, you and I,” Vhalla whispered.

“If I am going to be hopeless for anyone, let it be for you, Vhalla Yarl.”

Vhalla’s hand reached for her watch, her heart doing acrobatics. This feeling was one only he could instill in her. It put everything else to shame, and it rose every warning flag and rang every alarm.

Aldrik watched her motions thoughtfully. After a long internal debate, he crossed the remaining distance between them. A half step too close, every part of him was easily within reach. He reached out a hand, hesitantly, slowly. He searched for permission, and Vhalla wanted to deny him, she wanted to push him away.
She wanted to hold him so hard her hands would leave bruises.

His fingertips fell gingerly on her neck, lightning striking in their wake as they slid down to her collarbone. His elegant hand hooked the metal chain and pulled free the watch from under her clothes. The prince hardly touched her, and yet it was the most intimate act Vhalla had experienced in weeks.

Aldrik’s eyes smoldered as he confirmed what her hands perpetually sought was indeed the watch he’d given her. Vhalla watched a flame alight at the knowledge. He turned his attention to her face, and Vhalla knew what he sought.

“My . . . lady?” he breathed.

“We can’t,” Vhalla reminded him.

“Do you still love me?” He’d gone from glancing blows straight for the kill.

Vhalla frowned slightly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” His words were quick and breathy. “Tell me, Vhalla, do you still love me as you once did? Do you hold any feelings for me in your heart? Is there a single ember of love that I might, honorably, fan to life once more?”

“You are engaged,” Vhalla whispered weakly. “I’ve seen you with her.”

“With her? Publically, yes.” Aldrik laughed, a deep and sorrowful sound. “Do you think I love her because I have to put on a show? Because I tolerate her as I must?” He met her eyes, and Vhalla witnessed the unfiltered truth as he spoke it. “Vhalla, you should know, out of everyone, you know I chose the woman I wanted to be my wife long before I knew the Northern girl even existed.”

Fire raged through her veins, flushing her skin at his words.

“I made my choice. And, while I cannot honor that choice with my hands, I shall honor it eternally with my heart.” Aldrik leaned forward, almost close enough for her to feel his breath. “If you will not say it, then I will. Vhalla, I—”

“She means to kill your father,” Vhalla blurted out. Somehow, confessing to knowledge of treason was less frightening than knowing, beyond all doubt, that Aldrik still loved her.

“What?” Aldrik straightened away. “How do you know that?”

Vhalla swallowed. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve been afraid of telling the truth. But she knew Aldrik wouldn’t subject her to a trial, use her knowledge as an opportunity to jail her—or worse. “She and Za called me for a meeting.”

“When?” Aldrik’s expression darkened.

“After my day at court.” Vhalla launched into a quick recount of the evening, ending with the princess’s suggestion that Vhalla help them escape after killing the Emperor.

“We expected this.” Aldrik began to pace. “I’ll have to shift the guards on her room, change the watch patterns so she can’t learn them.” He paused, as if remembering Vhalla was there. “Why did you tell me this?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You, of all people, should hate my father,” Aldrik pointed out.

“I do,” Vhalla had no hesitation in affirming such. Her bluntness brought some amusement to Aldrik’s expression. “But I’m tired of the bloodshed. If she kills your father, then she’ll be put to death, and it’ll likely spark a rebellion in the North. You’ll be forced to subdue them because the only other alternative to appease them, possibly, would be letting the North go from the Empire. That may cause a different sort of civil war from people who would rebel against freeing them after so many lives were lost to bring Shaldan into the Empire.”

He watched her with sorrow that matched what she felt in her heart.

“It’s why she
must
be the future Empress . . . There isn’t another way now that doesn’t end in blood.”