Fire Falling(48)

Vhalla held her breath.

He promptly closed his mouth and looked away as the rumble of heavy footsteps drew closer. Vhalla followed his eyes to the doorframe.

“Lie back down,” Aldrik mumbled with resignation.

Vhalla obliged and stared upward, hoping she’d feel less dizzy soon. Aldrik sighed and stood, moving to a cleric’s chest that sat open on a nearby dresser. He was picking out a bottle filled with a clear-syrup when the golden prince burst in without a knock.

“Vhalla, the hero!” he enthused. “I heard you had woken!”

“Word travels too quickly,” Aldrik cursed under his breath.

“How do you feel?” The younger prince walked over, ignoring his brother.

“Tired,” she said simply, truthfully.

“Yes,” Aldrik crossed the room to hand her the vial, and she took it without question in one gulp. “She should not be entertaining company right now.”

“Oh?” Prince Baldair cocked an eyebrow. “What are you then?”

Aldrik glared at his brother.

“Boys, don’t fight,” Vhalla muttered; she was too tired for their nonsense. Aldrik blinked at her in surprise and Prince Baldair chuckled. “How can I help you, my prince?”

“Our father would like to host you for breakfast.”

Vhalla blinked at the prince, fairly certain she heard him wrong. “Wh-why?” She stared in shock. The last time Vhalla had seen the Emperor up close he was passing judgment on her for an attempt on his son’s life. Vhalla sought silent guidance from Aldrik, but he had that stony walled-off glare he got around his brother.

“To thank you, I am sure,” Prince Baldair answered.

“She needs her rest,” Aldrik objected.

“Surely she has to eat?” the younger prince protested.

“I’m not in a state that is fit to see—” Vhalla paused; she couldn’t say “royalty” as half of the Imperial family was before her. “—to see the Emperor,” she finished.

“Father understands your situation. Don’t fret over decorum,” the golden prince countered with a smile.

Vhalla picked at the bandages around her fingers. “I suppose I cannot refuse my Emperor,” she said softly.

Aldrik looked at her with marked concern. “I will speak to my father.”

“It’s just breakfast.” Vhalla tried to reassure herself more than anyone else. Aldrik stared hopelessly at her, and she gave him an apologetic look.

“Excellent! An hour then.” Baldair clapped his hands together and left.

Aldrik shifted, pulling a chain that ran from a button to his pocket. He glanced at the silver pocket watch she’d admired on more than one night after their Projection practice. “You shouldn’t have agreed,” he murmured and returned to his prior position.

“Aldrik, when will you understand?” She struggled to sit again, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead with a sigh. “I am never in a position to refuse your family.”

“What?” He seemed honestly confused.

Vhalla smiled tiredly, it was cute how clueless he was at times. “I am nothing, no rank or title. More so, I’m property of the crown. You or any of your family could order anything of me, and I would be forced to oblige.” Vhalla ran a hand up his forearm, but he pulled away briskly.

“Do you just oblige me?” Aldrik asked coolly.

Vhalla laughed. “Of course not. I enjoy being near you, hearing your thoughts, spending time with you. You’re one of the best things that have ever happened to me.” Vhalla smiled at him, and she saw the prince relax. How had she never realized how insecure he was?

“You’re so funny. Do I oblige you? Aldrik, I—” Vhalla stopped herself, her smile slipping in the wake of a revelation. “—I—”

Love you.

That’s what her mind wanted to say, and it hit her harder than the sandstorm.

“You?” He let the word hang expectantly.

Vhalla inhaled sharply. “I ...”

It was hopeless; she was hopeless. She loved him, and she couldn’t deny it anymore. One look had spurred her to race to a likely death on the notion of saving him. Now that she realized it, she realized how long she’d been hopelessly falling for this infuriating, charming, enigma of a man.

“Well, I ...” Vhalla met those dark black eyes. All the moments of his gaze came back to her in a flood of emotion. She remembered a night forever ago when he had held her with his stare alone in the library, pulling her from a dream. Vhalla remembered gazing into them as he’d held her during the gala, how she’d wanted him. She remembered waking up to them, more than once now, and wanting to see nothing more every time she roused.

“I really, truly ...” Vhalla reached out and touched his cheek lightly. His gaze had turned serious, and his breathing was shallower. Her stomach twisted in a knot. She could never, she would never, should never, have this man. And, for once, Vhalla gave into the alarms in her head.

“I love to be someone you consider your friend.”

Aldrik considered her for a long moment. His lips parted slightly and his eyes scanned her face. Vhalla wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Aldrik inhaled sharply, opened his mouth. Vhalla’s heart skipped two beats. He deflated and avoided her expectant stare.