“Vhalla.” He summoned her attention when Baldair had finished. Aldrik opened his mouth, and his words faltered. “You woke me also, didn’t you?”
She searched his face, reading the meaning hidden in the depths of his eyes. It had been real then, what she had witnessed during the Joining. He had been there as much as she had been. Vhalla nodded.
“Thank you,” Aldrik whispered, almost reverently. “Of course, my prince.”
“Now, we must find a way to deal with my father.” Aldrik closed his eyes as if in pain.
Vhalla’s stomach clenched. “If the Emperor demands my death ... there isn’t much hope is there?”
“No. We will win this war and then your freedom—”
“I heard.” She couldn’t handle the flash of hopelessness in his eyes, the flash of truth, when he realized she knew his father’s demands of her death no matter the war’s outcome. “I will fail before I force your hand.”
“I couldn’t.” Aldrik shook his head. “You know I can’t.”
“He hates what I am to you,” Vhalla breathed in realization. “Well, if my crime is love, then I am indeed guilty.”
“I will not let it happen.” Aldrik tried to push himself up into a seated position. He grimaced, and Vhalla quickly adjusted the pillows to try to give him support. “I promise you.”
“Don’t.” Her hands faltered. Vhalla straightened and stood, her arms were limp at her sides. “Don’t cheapen our promises. Some can’t be kept.”
“No!” Aldrik’s voice rose slightly, and Baldair made a shh-ing sound with a nervous glance toward the door. “If I must, I will take you away myself and hide you.”
Baldair leaned forward in obvious surprise.
“Then you’ll be hunted also.” Vhalla shook her head. “Don’t be rash about this. It’s what’s meant to be and—”
“Don’t do this.” Anger flared in his eyes, and it made the timbre of his voice deepen. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Vhalla Yarl.” With more speed and strength than Vhalla thought he currently possessed, Aldrik pulled her back onto the bed. “I told you this would never be easy, I warned you. I begged you to spare my heart if you weren’t ready for this fight.”
She glanced away, unable to bear the burden of guilt.
“Look at me,” he demanded softly. She obliged. “You do not give in. You disobeyed the Emperor himself, you ran alone through the North, you—who was once a library girl! You’re smart and capable and strong and beautiful, and I will not let you forget those things now. I will not let them be diminished.” Aldrik gripped her hand as though he was physically holding onto the scraps of her humanity. Vhalla’s chest ached. “I’m tired of fighting,” she sighed. The memory of the Emperor’s boot on her face was fresh. Vhalla hated that the man could make her feel so little. “I would rather he continue to hate me and spend the end of my days as I choose than fight the Emperor in agony until my final moment.”
“No.” A smile spread across Aldrik’s face. It was tired, but it had a hopefulness Vhalla had never quite seen behind it. “I swear with you and Baldair and the Gods as my witnesses that you shall be at my side. I will think of something, I will find an opportunity. I do not know what that is yet, but I will find something that will be worth more to my father than this foolish notion of killing you. Whatever that thing is, I will threaten him with it. I will show him—the world—the astounding woman who has stolen my heart.”
“But how long will it last?” Vhalla hated herself for objecting to the words she had been so longing to hear. “Until you must find something else to barter or sacrifice just for my sake?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Aldrik shook his head. “I will fight to keep you until the end of my days.”
“You’re a fool,” Baldair declared, stealing the words right out of Vhalla’s mouth. He leaned back in his chair, considering his brother. But his words were betrayed by the appreciative gleam in his eyes as he switched his attention between the two lovers. Vhalla was still learning the nuances of the younger prince, but it was easy to guess that he was impressed.
Aldrik chuckled under his breath. “If I am, then the blame falls entirely with my lady here.”
A gentle warmth gave color to Vhalla’s cheeks.
“Well, you won’t be launching any suicidal campaigns if you can’t even get out of bed.” Baldair stood. “I’ll go fetch the clerics.”
“Go, but wait to fetch the clerics.” Aldrik ran his hand up Vhalla’s arm, his attentions returned to her. “Dawn is only an hour away.”
“Then get them in an hour,” Aldrik said as though that should have been obvious.
“You need medical attention,” Baldair insisted. “Your body is mostly healed. You should just need some strengthening potions for you to be close to normal.”
“I don’t need my strength just yet. I’m not leaving this bed,” the crown prince observed. “What I have here now will be far more effective than anything the clerics can bottle.”
Baldair gave a resigned huff of amusement and shook his head. “Gone by dawn,” the younger prince cautioned before leaving them alone.
Vhalla turned back to Aldrik as the door closed, but the man had other intentions as the hand that had been drifting up her arm tugged lightly on her shoulder. The moment the back of her neck was in his reach, his fingers were curled around it, and Vhalla met his lips.
His mouth had the faint traces of herbs, what Vhalla suspected to be remnants of medicine or sustaining potions that had been forced down his throat. The hair on his face tickled her strangely. But nothing could have made that kiss anything less than perfection.
“I love you,” he uttered like a prayer.
“And I you,” she affirmed.
“Don’t give up on me.” Aldrik pressed his eyes closed tightly. “I am not worthy of all you have done for me ... but, you, this is the first thing to make me feel human in almost a decade, to make me want to strive for something more. You are the first person to make me truly happy, to make me want and hope again.”
“I have never given up on you,” Vhalla pointed out gently.
“You are the only one.”
“Larel didn’t either,” she mused.
“No, Larel never did ...” Aldrik tugged on her gently and Vhalla understood his demand. She curled at his side, her head tucked between his chin and his shoulder to barely fit on the small bed. “I can’t believe you rode through the North. Gods, woman, have you no fear?”
“I was terrified,” Vhalla confessed softly. “I was just more terrified of living without you.”
Aldrik laughed, a deep throaty sound. He ran his fingertips over her arm and shoulder. “A terror I know well.”
Vhalla pressed her eyes closed. Her mortality stared down at her from the other side of an abyss. But his arm around her firmly kept her in place, kept her from tumbling down that dark chasm.
She relinquished doubt and embraced hope. Her hand snaked around his waist, and Vhalla listened to his heartbeat while feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest, perfectly in time with hers. They would fight together now.