“Really, Aldrik, what were you thinking?” the minister asked.

“I do not have to explain myself to you, minister,” the prince sneered.

“You could have killed her.” The Minister Victor voiced Vhalla’s fears.

“I could not have killed her,” the prince retorted, utterly confident.

Vhalla knew that the prince was rumored to have a silver tongue. But there was a peculiar sort of agitation to his voice, as though he was truly offended the minister would even suggest it.

“How did you know?” the minister demanded. “She had hardly Manifested more than trace magic on those notes. There was no way you could have known her Affinity.”

“Then you underestimate my prowess.” Vhalla could hear the click of boots across the floor as the prince paced the room.

“Certainly,” the minister remarked with bold sarcasm. “I only ask because I have this wild idea that you may have some insights to her that you are neglecting to share, my prince.”

“Victor,” Prince Aldrik sighed dramatically. “You think I would lower myself to trouble with a plain commoner like her?”

“You troubled yourself enough to write her notes,” the minister pointed out.

Vhalla hadn’t thought about it, but it was strange that the crown prince had sent notes to an apprentice.

“She is the first Windwalker in almost one hundred fifty years. Of course I would trouble myself.” His tone had turned cold and calculating.

“Well, the next time we have a new Manifesting sorcerer, I will be sure to ask you to assist, what with your mysterious powers of deduction on Affinities,” the minister commented dryly. There was a long silence, indicating the prince was finished indulging the minster on this matter. “However you knew, the fact remains she is a Windwalker. I confirmed it.”

“You felt the need to confirm it when she survived a fall from the palace spires?”

Vhalla could almost see Prince Aldrik rolling his eyes with his tone alone.

“I used crystals upon her,” the minister continued, ignoring the prince’s sarcasm.

“You what?”

Was that worry that Vhalla heard in Prince Aldrik’s voice? She thought back to the shimmering stones that Minister Victor placed upon her forehead and stomach. Those were crystals? They couldn’t possibly be the same as the taint-causing stones from the War of the Crystal Caverns. They had helped her, not hurt her.

“We should tell the Emperor.” Minister Victor seemed to be well versed at overlooking choice comments from the prince. “He will want to know. He could use her in the war.”

Vhalla’s heart began to race. The idea of her at war was ludicrous. She had never even hit a person in play or sport.

“No.” As if the prince picked up on her panic, he squelched the idea sharply. “I will deal with my father, Victor. I do not want to catch wind of you breathing a single word to the Emperor about her.”

“Very well,” the minister sighed. “Aldrik, I can only theorize on what your grand plan is for the girl, given our histories. I know what we read, what we studied—”

“Victor,” the prince growled dangerously.

“I remember wishing we had someone like her,” the minister continued, ignoring the warning tone. What did these people want with her? “I would be false if I claim to have not had similar ideas cross my mind already. But she will need to be trained first. We will need—”

“She is not your concern,” Prince Aldrik snapped. “I will oversee her training.”

Vhalla rested her forehead against the door, reminding herself to breathe. It did not seem like she would escape the prince anytime soon.

“Larel will be her mentor, and she will report to me. I thank you, minister, for keeping your distance.”

Her heart was racing, and the adrenaline replaced the pain. How had he known her Affinity? Why had the prince decided out of all the sorcerers that he had control over, she would be the one he would make his pet? Vhalla’s face twisted in agony. She should be Eradicated, certainly that was still an option.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to check on her.” The prince’s footsteps neared the door.

“My prince, please let her rest.” Vhalla’s opinion of the Minister of Sorcery was steadily improving.

But nothing stopped the prince if he wanted something, and Vhalla took a step away from the door, glancing around frantically. Once more she was reminded how trapped this room made her feel. She had yet to stumble back to the bed when the door opened.

Dark eyes met hers, and Vhalla looked up uncertainly, caught in a whirlwind of apprehension and fear. Would he know that she had been eavesdropping? She couldn’t imagine the prince would take kindly to it.

“You’re awake.” He breathed the words and his eyes softened with what looked like relief. Though Vhalla was certain she was mistaken.

“I am.” She nodded, her voice no longer sounded wrong.

“I’m glad,” he said softly.

Vhalla squinted up at him, not caring for how bold it was. “You, you’re glad?” Anger stammered her words as she glared at the tall man dressed all in black.

“I am, Vhalla—”

The prince took a step toward her, and Vhalla took a step back.

“No,” she shook her head. “No, don’t come near me. Never come near me again.” Vhalla’s voice was rougher than she had ever heard it before. She didn’t care that he was the prince, and she didn’t care that the minister stood as an observer.

“Vhalla,” The prince had the audacity to have the start of a smile on his face. Who did he think she was? Some ignorant child? “This is not a time for anger; we should celebrate.”

“You—pushed—me—off—a—roof.” Vhalla wished she had a more dramatic word for roof because it didn’t seem to quite cut to the truth of the matter.

He laughed.

Vhalla had never struck someone before, but he was making an appealing case.

“You are fine. See how quickly you are healing now? You will be better than fine soon. I will even teach you myself.” He outright smiled, as though he was bestowing some great honor upon her.

But Vhalla did not smile. She took another step away and swayed as the world was suddenly unstable. She had been on her feet for too long.

Prince Aldrik was there in a moment, his hands on her upper arms for support. “Stop this foolishness,” he said, his deep voice gentle. “You know you should not be standing. Let me help you back to bed.” His sudden kindness made her want to scream.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.

“Vhalla—” The lightness was beginning to slip from his face.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me!” she cried, pushing his hands off and taking a step back. Vhalla stumbled, her world tilted, but her feet held onto the floor with all the force of her rage. “You threw me off a roof !” Her voice had risen to a near shrill. “You didn’t tell me! You didn’t warn me!”

“If I warned you, it would not have worked. If I had warned you, then you would not have done it.” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Of course I wouldn’t have!” She threw her arms out and swayed dangerously again, but regained her balance. “I trusted you to be my teacher! I did not trust anyone else, but I trusted you as my prince! I trusted you because you asked!” The confession caught in her throat as she choked it out. Vhalla wasn’t sure if she only imagined his eyes widening by a fraction before darkening.