Jax saw her all the way to a cleric’s tent, saying nothing of her silence. Vhalla was relieved to find Fritz awake and doing well. He had a gash on the side of his head that forced Vhalla to push away the memories of a similar wound Aldrik had worn for weeks. Fritz’s injury wasn’t nearly as severe, however.

Elecia relinquished her position at Fritz’s bedside, walking a short distance away and engaging in a hushed discussion with Jax. Vhalla watched them thoughtfully. They had an easy familiarity about them: they always had.

The Western woman wasn’t gone for long. She had a protective nature about Fritz that left Vhalla to wondering when it had developed. They acted like siblings, Elecia putting up with Fritz’s nonsense more than she would for anyone else.

Jax sat with them, and they discussed their plans for after the war. He remained silent as Elecia went on about how relieved she would be to be back in the West. Vhalla wasn’t shocked at how the girl couldn’t wait to get back to all the lavish trappings her status gave her.

What did surprise Vhalla was when Elecia spoke of coming to the capital to study in the Tower. Fritz and Vhalla were in the midst of encouraging her to do so when Major Schnurr entered the large tent.

“Yarl?” he called gruffly. “Is the Windwalker here?” He scanned the surprised faces of clerics, wounded, and guests. Vhalla stood from the far corner, and he smiled slowly at her presence. “The Emperor has requested you.”

Jax stood with Vhalla as well, walking at her side.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Major Schnurr spoke as though he’d just eaten something bitter.

“Escorting her to the camp palace,” Jax announced.

“You were not ordered to do so.” Major Schnurr didn’t seem pleased with this decision.

“Actually,” Jax took a step forward, “I was.”

“By who?” the major scoffed.

“By Prince Baldair.” That stilled the major and confused Vhalla. “He ordered the Golden Guard to protect Lady Vhalla as though she were one of our own, as though she were the prince’s kin.”

“I’ve heard of no such order.”

“You’re calling Baldair a liar?” There was a dangerous glint instantly in Jax’s eyes at the notion.

“That’s Prince Baldair to you, fallen lord,” Major Schnurr sneered.

“Enough.” Vhalla held up a hand, and Jax stepped into it. “It’s fine, Jax. The major here will protect me, and we’re headed to see the Emperor. I’m sure Prince Baldair is there also.”

Jax clearly debated this. He hesitated for long enough that Vhalla was worried he’d put up a fight. But he relented, going back to Fritz’s bedside with a glare. Elecia had a dark look about her from just staring at Major Schnurr.

“Lead on.” Vhalla held her head high, wearing a mask of casual confidence.

Major Schnurr didn’t speak, which suited Vhalla just fine. She was barely keeping the trembling ball of nerves in her chest from overtaking her heart. She didn’t have the courage to make small talk or ask why she was being summoned. He didn’t do anything other than check over his shoulder to make sure she was still there.

Even though spring was already upon them, the days were still short, and Vhalla found the sun setting over her shoulder as they entered the camp palace. The main room was empty, but she heard voices coming from the back. There was little shouting, but there was also very little that sounded pleasant. Her magic still wasn’t strong enough for magic hearing, or Vhalla would’ve cast aside all notions of avoiding eavesdropping.

“My lord, I have brought the Windwalker,” the major called.

She heard the Emperor’s door open.

“Ten minutes,” one of Vhalla’s most hated voices in the world called back. “If not by then, you may execute your duty.” The door slammed shut.

Major Schnurr produced a pocket watch with a small grin, checking the time. He took a step forward, and she was suddenly aware of his proximity.

“Sit,” he ordered, motioning to a bench.

Vhalla’s heart beat so hard she was dizzy. She wanted her prince, and all she had was his muffled voice. Vhalla sat as she was told.

She fumbled with the chain at her neck. Ten minutes, the Emperor had said. Vhalla looked at the watch face.

Ten minutes until what? Vhalla tapped her foot, restless energy creeping up in her. She glanced at the major. He still had that dangerous aura about him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Was the Emperor going to kill her? She’d delivered him his victory. She’d shown her heroism to the army. She’d saved his life before his most trusted general. There was no way he could kill her now.

Vhalla turned the idea over in her head. He could do whatever he wanted, he was the Emperor. Even Aldrik couldn’t protect her, his father had made that much clear time and again.

Vhalla checked the watch. A meager three minutes had passed. The major kept checking his as well. She picked at the seam of her tunic restlessly.

Should she just ask why she was there? Vhalla didn’t want to know the answer. Somewhere deep in her, she knew it wouldn’t be good. It was never good for her in situations like this.

Five minutes.

“I need something from my room.” She stood suddenly.

“Sit,” the major ordered.

Vhalla glared up at him, trying to look commanding. “I will just be a moment,” her voice quivered with strain.

“Sit.” His palm closed around her shoulder, and he pushed her back onto the bench.

Vhalla fell clumsily, barely catching herself. Her heart pounded in her ears, not Aldrik’s heartbeat, just hers. Vhalla clenched her fists, trying to activate her magic. But the Channel remained dormant, nothing more than a trickle of power. If she had to fight, she would not put up much of one. Vhalla suddenly felt very trapped with this man, this major who should be someone she could trust.

More shouting. Vhalla looked at her watch. Seven minutes.

Major Schnurr checked his watch as well and tapped his foot impatiently. Her stomach knotted, Vhalla was certain she was going to be sick. Could she call out to Aldrik? Would he come to her? Could he? Her mind worked itself into a frenzy as the seconds ticked away.

Nine minutes.

Major Schnurr’s hand closed around the pommel of his sword.

Vhalla’s breath caught in her throat. She stood.

“Sit,” he growled, taking a step forward.

“No,” she whispered, glancing for the door. If she could get outside, surely he would not strike her down before the whole of the camp? She could get a running start, maybe she had enough strength to get to a horse.

She didn’t want to die.

“Sit,” he repeated.

Thirty seconds.

Vhalla turned and made a dash for the door. His hand closed around her wrist. She heard steel on steel as Schnurr’s weapon was halfway drawn. A strained panicked noise came from the back of Vhalla’s throat. She twisted but his hand held fast. She opened her mouth to call for Aldrik, to shout for her life, to fight with every last ounce of strength she possessed.

The Emperor’s door slammed open. Multiple pairs of heavy footsteps were heard. The major paused, but he did not release his grip, even by a fraction. The Emperor was first around the corner, followed by Aldrik—who was instantly full of rage at the scene—and a wide-eyed Baldair. As Aldrik took a step with murderous intent, the Emperor held out his arm across his son’s chest.