“What does this have to do with me?” It was interesting history, but she didn’t know why it was relevant.

“Why did the West want Windwalkers?” Lord Ophain returned her question with a question. She was beginning to see where Aldrik got his teaching style from.

“For their magic,” Vhalla said uncertainly. She’d only read one book.

“To access the caverns.” The lord leaned forward with grave seriousness.

Aldrik nursed a drink from behind the bar, still ignoring them.

“Why ...” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

“Because Windwalkers are the only ones, of all sorcerers or Commons, who cannot be tainted by the crystals.” Lord Ophain finally gave her the answer that she hadn’t wanted to see on her own.

“So then—” Vhalla looked to Aldrik and stole his attention. “You don’t want your father to know because you don’t want him to have this power.”

“If he can have it or not is irrelevant.” Aldrik topped off his glass before returning to his seat. “I don’t want you used by anyone.”

Vhalla’s heart couldn’t even skip beats at his words, her mind was too heavy. She had a power that could give access to an even greater, ancient magic that had the ability to warp the hearts, minds, and bodies of men. Vhalla gripped her hands tightly. Minister Victor had asked her to bring him a crystal weapon. She now knew why, and why it had to be her.

“But enough on history and dark ‘what ifs.’” Lord Ophain attempted to disperse the cloud that now hung over the room. “May I have a demonstration of your abilities, specifically this Projection I have heard of, in advance of tomorrow?”

Vhalla obliged him and was better for it. The wonder and excitement Lord Ophain had toward her magic helped Vhalla overcome the worries and fears of the Crystal Caverns. The war was over and people had learned their lessons when it came to crystals. While Vhalla agreed with Aldrik’s decision to keep secret the fact that they did not affect her negatively, she also decided not to worry about it.

They talked over dinner and into the evening. Vhalla began to contribute more yawns than words to the conversation, and Aldrik finally noticed their dozing companion. “You should rest.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” It would have been more convincing if she hadn’t punctuated the statement with a yawn.

“You need your energy for tomorrow.” The prince stood, offering her a hand. “Get some sleep.”

Vhalla realized with the way he turned his body that he was about to lead her into the bedroom. “I could go back to the inn,” she said quickly.

“No, I want you here with me.” He paused. “If you still wish it also.”

Vhalla smiled softly at his addition; in a way, it was adorable to watch a born and bred royal attempt to be less princely. “Of course I wish it.” She squeezed his hand lightly. “I’ll sleep out here tonight,” she offered.

“No.” Aldrik shook his head. “I will be burning the midnight oil with my uncle. I have not seen him in too long. Take the bed, it will be much quieter.”

Vhalla nodded, and Aldrik relinquished his hold on her, satisfied that she was not about to leave. Vhalla turned toward Lord Ophain as the prince went to retrieve her pack from behind the bar. The Lord of the West had a knowing smile.

“Lord Ophain, it has been a delight to meet you,” she said earnestly.

“I can only say the same, Vhalla. A friend—of Aldrik’s is a friend of the West. I will see you tomorrow.”

Vhalla noticed his smirk and couldn’t stop herself from blushing. All too eager to hide her embarrassment, she grabbed her pack from Aldrik, bid them both goodnight, and slipped behind the wooden sliding doors into the dim bedroom beyond. A flame flickered by the bedside and in the bathroom, hovering above a metal dish that had been set out. Vhalla made a note to someday ask Aldrik how Firebearers left their flames, but for the time being she was grateful for the light.

Knowing Aldrik was going to take his time, Vhalla decided to take hers, enjoying the luxury of his bath. The water came out piping hot and she let it seep into her bones. The heat relaxed her and staved off the tension in her muscles from turning into fear and worry at the unknown of what the Emperor’s impending demonstration would bring.

She was wrinkled in her fingers and toes when she emerged. Drying and dressing in basic sleeping clothes, Vhalla dragged her feet back into the bedroom. Dim lights still flickered beyond the sliding doors that did almost nothing to block the deep resonance of Aldrik’s words.

“Would you like another one?” he asked, likely from behind the bar with the way his voice carried.

“No, we have a long day tomorrow. You should stop too,” his uncle warned.

“Just a nightcap,” Aldrik assured.

“You were past a nightcap two drinks ago.” There was a tone of scolding in Lord Ophain’s voice that made Vhalla grin slightly.

“Don’t fault me for this.” She heard Aldrik crossing the room, the sound of the furniture scraping as he sat heavily.

“You know I do. And I will especially if you are in an alcohol haze and can’t perform as you need to tomorrow,” the lord said sternly. “I do not think you want to be the cause of her demonstration going poorly.”

“I would never do anything that could jeopardize her,” Aldrik said sharply.

Vhalla took a step closer to the doors, her heart racing. She knew she shouldn’t be listening, that it was an invasion of his privacy. But she couldn’t stop her feet from carrying her up to the papered and carved screens.

“It sounds as though you already have.” Lord Ophain’s words were strong, but his tone was not.

“Don’t you dare tell me—”

“What?” the older man cut off the prince. “That you have clearly broadcasted your relationship with the woman to your men, your leaders, your father of all people?”

Aldrik was silent.

“He mentioned the trial in a correspondence. He asked me to come and speak sense into you.”

“And here I thought you were paying your dear nephew a friendly visit.” Aldrik punctuated his words by bringing his glass down upon the table a little too hard.

“Your father summoned me to reject this. But, you summon me seeking my advice and my approval. Why else would you bring her before me as you have?” Lord Ophain had a point.

“Well,” Aldrik asked finally, “what is your advice?”

“Make her a ward of the West.” Vhalla inhaled sharply at Lord Ophain’s words. “Send her back to Norin with me to study at the Academy of Arcane Arts. Put her out of your father’s reach, and yours.”

“That would be the smart thing, wouldn’t it?” Aldrik sighed.

Vhalla gripped her fingers so tightly she thought one may break. She should be happy. Being sent to Norin to study at one of the oldest academies in the world, nevertheless an academy for sorcery, should sound like a dream compared to marching to war.

But it would not be by his side.

“You’re not going to do it, though.” Lord Ophain heard something in Aldrik’s words that Vhalla hadn’t. The clanking of ice in glasses filled the silence. “What is this woman to you?”