In those fleeting moments, the complexities of titles and who they were faded into base emotion. She wanted, she needed him. This man, who was regarded as little more than a curt and dark monster, had somehow claimed her without ever truly touching her before this night.

“Vhalla,” her eyes fluttered closed at the mention of her name. “First the library boy, then Baldair. I am envious of them.”

“Why?” She needed to hear the answer.

“Because they seem to have no trouble finding reasons to be around you. And I...” A deep chuckle resonated through the crown prince’s chest into the ear she had pressed against it. “I struggle to find a reason, and when I am with you I struggle still.”

There was something strange about his voice. It held a barely audible huskiness that sent heat to the pit of her stomach. Vhalla tightened her grip on his clothes.

“You shouldn’t struggle for anything, you’re the crown prince,” she breathed into the crisp autumn air.

“I may be a prince,” he said as his lips brushed her ear lightly. “But I would trade it all to be a common man, even if only for tonight.”

His lips made her knees feel weak. Vhalla shifted her head to look up at him; Aldrik wore an unfamiliar and heavy expression. She wished she had years with him to hear his stories, to talk about his pains and his joys, to continue to enjoy slow afternoons together, to work out the strange struggle between them that was both irresistible and undeniable. But a clock ticked in the back of her mind. Dawn would come far too soon.

“Are you really leaving?” she whispered faintly. He sighed and glanced away. Vhalla lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, turning his face back toward her. He didn’t resist her touch, and she searched his pained expression.

“I do not know the exact hour. But yes, soon,” Aldrik confessed in a deep rumble.

She bit her lower lip and shifted her hand up his face. Her fingertips grazed his pronounced cheek, his brow, and forehead. Vhalla paused, stopping on the golden crown that was nothing more than a barrier between them.

“Then for one night, if I can pretend I am a lady of noble birth—” She grabbed the circlet gently with her fingertips and lifted it off his brow. He stiffened as she dropped it to the ground. “—can you pretend you are a common man?”

Vhalla wasn’t sure what she fully implied as his eyes grew wide. Aldrik’s lips parted in surprise. All she knew was that if he was to leave, she didn’t want to leave without experiencing his closeness and warmth.

“I’m afraid, if you leave...” she choked out, thinking of a rainy night that seemed so long ago.

Aldrik lifted his hand to her cheek and lightly ran his fingertips down her face, as if he was worried she may break at any moment. Very briefly his thumb touched her lips and his arm tightened around her waist, eliminating any remaining distance between them. Vhalla felt him along her whole body; his warmth, his presence enveloped her.

“Vhalla,” he whispered with a voice as dark as midnight. His nose was almost touching hers.

“Aldrik,” she breathed faintly, as though it was a prayer. No word had ever tasted sweeter on her tongue.

As she felt his warm breath on her face, he paused and turned his head toward the city, his expression drastically changed. Vhalla looked over, frustrated and confused.

The first fiery explosion rang out through the clear night, sending shockwaves across the capital of the Empire.

A SECOND BEFORE THE blast, Aldrik turned his body so that his back was toward the explosion. His hand was buried in Vhalla’s hair as he pressed her protectively to his chest. She clung to him, trembling. Her ears had not yet stopped buzzing when the second explosion shook the mountainside, and Aldrik’s arms pulled her tighter. She cried her fear into his chest at the mind-numbing sound. For a moment there was silence, and she tried to catch her breath. However, the stillness was short-lived as slow-growing noise began to float up from the city below.

Screams, cries, and wails carried up the mountainside, and Vhalla pressed her hands over her ears. Aldrik continued to hold her tightly while she regained a shaky control.

“Wh-what?” she asked frantically, all words and thoughts falling to the rising panic. His grip loosened as he looked over his shoulder. Vhalla shifted her body so her eyes could follow his.

A fire was already beginning to sweep through the city, jumping from house to house. Smoke began to blot out the stars and cover the city in a foul, orange haze.

Vhalla took a step away from him, toward the scene.

“Where—” she stammered, “—where is that?” Her brain felt scrambled from noise and shock.

“Vhalla, you need to return to the palace. Now.” Aldrik’s tone was sharp and he grabbed her forearms, refusing to let her wander from him.

She resisted his tugs, glued to the scene. Something fitted into place in her mind.

“Vhalla,” Aldrik moved in front of her, a hand on her cheek. “The guards will be mobilized. I’ll go help myself,” he said, trying to be assuring, but his voice sounded strained and panicked. “But I need you to go back in the palace where it’s safe.”

Vhalla stepped to the side of him and looked back at the scene. Her eyes widened as her brain returned to life. She inhaled sharply, her breathing rough.

“R-Roan, Sareem.”

“What?” She barely heard Aldrik ask, he sounded far away.

Vhalla pointed. “That’s where the square of the sun and moon is, isn’t it?” her voice raised in fear.

“I don’t know, Vhalla.” Aldrik shook his head trying to take her hand again.

“It is.” She looked back, and there was no doubt. “Roan, Sareem! Aldrik, my friends are there!” She turned back to the scene.

“So were half the commoners in the city. Now, back in the palace,” he snapped and grabbed her wrist with force.

“No!” she cried, wrenching her hand back. “No! They need my help.” Vhalla turned and felt a hot wind rise up to the sky, carrying the smell of fire. She remembered her confrontation with Roan, telling her of Sareem’s plans to meet her at the bakery near plaza. Vhalla had never told Sareem anything different, and Roan most certainly would have gone to claim the man she loved. Vhalla’s chest tightened. She hadn’t apologized to either of them. She hadn’t even had a chance to explain what was happening to her.

Without any thought, Vhalla was running, ignoring the prince’s cries at her back. Her fancy heeled shoes were soon left behind on the marble, and Vhalla moved quickly in her bare feet. One of the terraces stretched outward to the top of the wall and Vhalla sprinted across the shallow water, her skirts quickly growing water-logged and heavy. She heard a splash and looked behind her—Aldrik had given chase.

“Vhalla! Stop this! You’re not going to be able to help them!” he cried.

But, she wasn’t ready to hear reason. All that filled her ears were the sounds of screams. All that filled her nose was smoke and death. All that filled her eyes was a burning inferno closing upon two people she had known for half her life—friends she had foolishly shut out.

Vhalla reached the wall and hoisted herself up. It was much taller on the other side, taller than even the bookcases of the Imperial Library. She looked down a moment, uncertain.