Fire Falling(66)

It was a tense minute as she waited; she was fully prepared to make a hasty retreat and explain she thought he was out. The door handle turned. Aldrik stood against the colored light of large stained glass circles that dominated the wall opposite the door. He wore a black leather jacket that went to his knees with a single line of gold buttons opened at the collared white cotton shirt underneath. Well-fitted trousers fell straight to bare feet, Vhalla noted curiously. His hair was fixed again, and just the sight of him was painful because it now contrasted so sharply from the disheveled man who had been woken from sleep, likely from lying in the arms of his lover.

“Hello, Vhalla.” He seemed as happy to see her as she was him.

“My prince,” Vhalla glanced away, unable to keep eye contact any longer.

“Come in.” He took a step back and turned.

Vhalla let herself into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

It was an astounding space. High ceilings with mosaics of classic stories along with some characters Vhalla had never before seen. There was a large sitting area with two lounging chaises that faced a large couch, a table between them. A stocked bar dominated the wall to the left of the door—Vhalla instantly wished for something strong—and a large standing table with all manner of papers and uncorked bottles was to the right. To her left was a wall with open sliding doors that revealed an additional room with a large bed covered in blankets and pillows. Perhaps the most astounding feature was a window, which was one she had seen from the square. It was big enough that pillows were piled up on the windowsill, and it looked like it could easily seat four.

Vhalla took another tentative step, instantly uncomfortable being in his space. She couldn’t help but look at the bed, wondering if Elecia had shared it with him the night before. Aldrik had crossed to the table and was shuffling the papers.

“You are quiet.” He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, unsure of what else to say.

“Sit,” he ordered curtly.

Vhalla waded through the tension between them, nearly drowning before she managed to sit on one of the chaises. Aldrik found the paper he was looking for, placing it on the lower table before the couch as he sat opposite her. They stared at each other, waiting for someone to say the first word. Vhalla swallowed.

“This is for the demonstration? For your father?” Work, she had to stick to work.

“What else would it be for?” he mumbled, the words like needles.

“Of course,” Vhalla replied weakly.

“My father will want us to play a game of scavenger hunt.” Aldrik looked at the paper as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Based off what I told him you are able to do at present, first he will have you Project to a person who will tell you a location and an item. You will return to me and direct me to something—unknown to me at the start of the demonstration—based on the instructions.”

“It seems simple enough.” She nodded.

“Does it?” Aldrik arched an eyebrow at her.

Vhalla shifted under his skepticism. “We’ve been doing things like this for weeks.”

“What exactly have we been doing, Vhalla?” Aldrik’s voice was void of any familiar warmth.

She didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t asking about the Projection, he was asking about the dance they’d been doing around something both of them had been too terrified to name. Now, it felt like he was accusing her.

“Never mind.” Aldrik stood. “Do not answer that. I already know.”

“What?” She was on her feet also. “What do you think you know?”

“You think I would not find out?” He glared at her.

“Find out what?” Vhalla’s voice had a shrill edge from the tension his eyes evoked in her.

“You are not the first one who has used me to get to him.” Aldrik looked away in disgust.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Baldair.”

Vhalla’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”

“I caught you both together last night, your hand in his.” Aldrik drew his height, his body language was imposing.

“My hand in his?” Vhalla balked. “You mean him grabbing my wrist? Him holding me in place so that I’d be forced to witness you and Elecia?” she accused, pointing at the crown prince.

“Elecia?” Aldrik seemed to forget the other woman was even with him the night before.

“Were you even going to tell me?” Vhalla’s lower lip quivered, and she swore she would not lose it, she wouldn’t cry in front of him.

“What does Elecia have to do with this?” Confusion eased his shoulders.

“No.” Vhalla shook her head. “No more, I can’t. I’m done.” She turned, starting for the door.

“Vhalla!” he snapped. “You asked me for no secrets, for the truth, and you’re turning your back on me?” Aldrik chuckled darkly. “The irony of that.”

“The truth?” She stopped, only ten paces from the door. She should just leave. But something made her turn. She stared at him in hopelessness. It would all be better if he’d just admit it. “The truth is ... the truth is ...” Something in her snapped. “The truth is that every time I close my eyes all I see is you and her!” Vhalla’s voice broke halfway through and she threw her arms up in defeat. The tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed, keeping them at bay.