She nodded, grabbed a random cloak off a nearby peg, and shut the door behind her. Aldrik made no motion to tell her to lock it, and she completely forgot in her panic. She fell into step behind him, and he didn’t even turn to look at her. At some point, he had found time to fix his hair. She wondered what really had gone on with the Emperor.

No, there were more important things to worry about than Emperors and hair, she reminded herself. Her chest tightened. Victor was headed to the Crystal Caverns with an axe that could sever souls.

ALDRIK’S STEPS WERE fast, and she struggled to keep up. Her feet felt heavy, her mind sluggish with exhaustion and the mental strain of the past few days.

“Wait!” She stopped at the door to her room.

“Vhalla, we don’t have time,” he responded briskly.

“I know, but I will freeze if I go out like this.”

“Quickly,” he begrudgingly agreed.

Vhalla darted into her room and rummaged through things, not caring what fell out of place. Piling on layers, Vhalla was a miss-match of clothing: the gloves that went under her gauntlets, two pairs of socks, a rope belt to secure his oversized pants around her waist.

In her rummaging, Larel’s bracelet fell from its place of honor on the stack of Aldrik’s notes. Vhalla paused, considering taking it, but left it instead. She didn’t want anything happening to the last token from her friend; who knew what would transpire before the dawn.

Vhalla raced down the Tower behind Aldrik once more, throwing her cloak over her shoulders. It had been well over a year since she had last seen her prince as tense and shut-off as he was now, though she could hardly blame him given the circumstances. Two floors down, the door to the vessel room opened, and Vhalla almost ran head first into the Eastern man who emerged.

“Vhalla?” Grahm blinked at her.

“I have to go.” She glanced at Aldrik, who was now ten steps ahead. He did not so much as glance in her direction, simply expecting her to keep pace.

“What? Where? What is it?” He squinted at the prince she followed.

“I can’t-can’t explain.” She took a few steps backward and called over her shoulder, practically running to catch up with Aldrik. “I just have to go.”

A very confused Easterner was left in her wake. Aldrik pulled open one of the outer doors and ushered her inside. Vhalla caught a glimpse of Grahm on their heels as the door closed.

“Vhalla, that—” Grahm called

Aldrik slammed the door and locked it.

“We can’t have distractions,” he cursed gruffly. The doorknob turned as someone tried to open it. Vhalla stared at it uneasily. Aldrik had never met Grahm, she told herself. He didn’t know the Waterrunner pursuing them. “Come.”

He led as they plunged through the palace-side door. They raced through the outer halls, avoiding the major arteries of the palace. Whenever someone would pass by at an intersection, they would duck behind a column or into a doorway to hide.

Vhalla panted softly. They were sneaking, she realized. What had his father told him? What would happen if they were seen? Surely no one would stop them from trying to prevent tampering in the caverns, she insisted to herself. But that also depended on someone being willing to listen to the real reason why they were sneaking off in the night.

The person in the hallway passed, and they were off running again. Vhalla focused on her prince as they spiraled down stairs within an outer wall of the palace. She couldn’t fathom the darkness that was determined to creep back into his mind. There was no doubt in Vhalla’s mind that he considered his current circumstances as some sort of delayed justice, given how his mind worked.

Her chest ached for the man she followed out onto the snowy ground of the stables. They ran through the white moonlight. Colors were bleached from the world, and her toes already felt cold. A stable hand was startled into action by their presence.

“My prince?” The young girl blinked at him. Her eyes drifted over to Vhalla and they widened. Her mouth fell open.

“We need two horses; they should be already tacked in those stalls,” Aldrik demanded, pointing.

“Not your mount, my lord?”

“No, I need those,” he affirmed impatiently.

The Western girl’s dark eyes looked between the two of them. She closed her mouth and a sly, knowing smirk spread across her features that she couldn’t successfully hide as she departed to do Aldrik’s bidding.

Vhalla panted softly, cursing the girl. She thought it was some scandal, the prince and Windwalker running off in the night.

“Mother, what’s taking her so long?” Aldrik squinted in the direction the girl departed.

“Aldrik,” Vhalla whispered gently. She placed a palm on his upper arm to reassure him. The fabric of his shirt was coarser than she was used to, and it moved strangely in the moonlight. He practically jumped away at her touch.

“Don’t!” His sudden and intense anger directed at her was startling. “Now isn’t the time, Vhalla.”

She frowned, preparing to tell him off for his tone when the girl came back with their horses. They were tall with long legs and lean, ropey muscle. Aldrik checked the saddlebags on his mount, fumbling inside them a moment before swinging into his saddle. Vhalla followed suit, deciding to let his snappishness slide given the pressure they were under as they rode out into the snowy night.