“I wrote the list of soldiers myself.” Aldrik nodded. “We will not be apart ever again from tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a nice dream?” She yawned again.

“My Vhalla, my lady, my love.” His words smoothed away the rough edges of her heart. “You make me do things far more dangerous than dream. You make me hope, you make me want.” He sighed a sound that was part bliss and part pain. “Mother, I have yet to discover if you will be my salvation or my demise.”

She twisted to look up at him, his dark eyes intense.

“I would never bring you harm.” She pressed her lips against his.

“Salvation, then.” He grinned against her mouth.

Morning threatened to burn through the canvas of the tent, and Vhalla felt as though the world began and ended with the man she was curled up against. His steady breathing and heartbeat were in perfect time with hers and created a melody that had a sweet timbre. Not quite awake, but no longer sleeping, Vhalla drifted through a blissful haze.

A haze that was abruptly interrupted by a broad-shouldered prince entering the tent. Vhalla sat quickly, as if doing so could hide the truth of spending the night in the crown prince’s arms. It was a contest to see whose face turned the reddest—hers or Baldair’s.

“Good Gods, you’re still here?” He cast a hand over his eyes as Aldrik sat as well, the covers pooling around his waist to reveal him only half clothed. “Brother, your debt to me is unfathomably great.”

Vhalla looked back at Aldrik in alarm, only to see that he had a lazy grin spreading from cheek to cheek. He turned to her, looking five years younger with a good night of sleep. Aldrik grabbed her for a brief kiss—startling in its passion, given their audience.

“My brother is right,” Aldrik whispered. “I must go or they’ll wonder where I am.”

She nodded.

“Wait for me until tonight?”

“Tonight?” She blinked at her prince.

“We will be together again with far fewer eyes upon us.” Aldrik grinned.

“In enemy territory!” She punched his shoulder, surprisingly playful given the subject.

“I’ll put the best men on watch.” He gripped her hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

“Any time now,” Baldair muttered, clearly uncomfortable by the lovers who had shared his bed.

“Unfortunately, no one will think twice about a woman leaving your tent,” Aldrik muttered, standing and dressing. “So I’ll go first.” He turned to Baldair. “Thank you, brother.”

There was a raw sincerity that Baldair was clearly not used to receiving from his brother. It brought a smile to Vhalla’s lips to be privy to it. The two of them weren’t so bad when they stopped fighting.

Aldrik gave her one last look, as if memorizing her form. Vhalla nodded. She only had to be strong for a short time more, she could do it. Then, that night, she’d find her way into his arms again. That knowledge alone kept her sane.

Baldair crossed over to the bed the second his brother left, assessing her. Vhalla regarded his gaze warily. “It’s real then.”

“What is?”

“You and Aldrik.” Baldair could barely say it, as if the words would bring the Mother’s wrath upon him.

“I love him.” She nodded. “And he loves me.”

“Vhalla ...” Baldair sighed and sat beside her on the bed. “Please, be careful.”

“More warnings?” She frowned.

“Not like before.” Baldair shook his head. “I’ve never seen Aldrik like this, I know his feelings are not mirrors and manipulation.”

“I tried to tell you that.” She was unable to hide her frustration. “He would never hurt me.”

“That’s not what I now fear for.” Baldair shook his head. “Vhalla, he is the crown prince.”

“I know that.” She gripped the blanket with white knuckles. “Why is it that you can be the playboy prince, chase whatever strikes your fancy, and he’s chastised for spending time with me? We haven’t even—” She stopped herself with a blush.

“Because I will not inherit the crown.” The prince regarded her with a heavy sincerity. “I’m the spare, Vhalla. No one cares what I do, they care what he does.”

“But they love you.” It was no secret who the common people’s favorite was.

“They love me because I never have to heap punishments upon them, or carry out executions, or levy taxes. I host parties and open casks of wine.” Baldair shook his head. “They don’t like him because Aldrik will be a fair ruler. He doesn’t care about being loved, he cares about doing what’s right.”

“And what’s wrong with—”

“Until you.” Baldair placed his palm on the top of her head. “You’re the first thing I’ve ever seen him want to take for himself.”

“What’s your point?” Vhalla knew already she wasn’t going to like it.

“That it also means that you are the first thing the world knows it can take from him.”

She froze in place and remembered Lord Ophain’s words: the chink in his armor. As deeply as their Bond ran, she was still learning about her prince and Vhalla saw the man known as the Fire Lord in a new way. His reputation, his titles, they elevated him and protected him better than forged steel or boiled leather.

“But I’ll try to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Baldair stood, helping her to her feet.

“Why?” She looked at him skeptically. “I have no interest in creating debts.”

He chuckled aloud. “That isn’t why I’m doing it. I have much to atone for when it comes to my brother. Maybe I didn’t realize how much until I saw him happy again. Either way, consider me your sword, Vhalla Yarl.”

She assessed him thoughtfully. He could be lying. But Baldair had never seemed to be intentionally malicious. Even the actions that had previously displeased her she couldn’t resent him for. If he was to be believed, it all came from a good place.

Vhalla raised her hand. “Then consider me your wind.”

Baldair smiled and clasped his palm against hers.

It was hard to be Serien when Vhalla was so happy, but she donned the guise of the other woman—mentally anyways. Serien was what she had to be, it was all she could be by daylight. To be anything else would make her worth noticing, and she was beginning to discover she enjoyed not being important.

“There you are!” Daniel waved her over for breakfast, and Serien sat between him and Craig. “I was worried.”

“Sorry about that. I went for a walk,” she lied easily and neither man questioned her. Serien wondered if Vhalla’s old friends would call her a bad liar now.

Daniel and Craig were easy going when other soldiers were beginning to fray at the seams. This was the two men’s third tour, and they knew what to expect. Serien thought about asking what she would see, but doing so was pointless. What awaited her would be there no matter what words they shared. But she knew who she would face it with.

So when the host was being divided, Serien walked with confidence to Aldrik’s group. None of the majors had instructed her to do so, but one catch of the prince’s eyes and she knew she was in the right place. They would face the North together. Serien balled her hands into fists, opening a Channel she shouldn’t possess.