Water's Wrath (Air Awakens #4)(83)

Vhalla sat suddenly, staring at Aldrik. Suddenly the rainy night of a boy taking a knife to his skin made sense. “Don’t say it. I know.”

“It was my fault,” he whispered.

“No,” she said firmly. “It was Egmun’s fault. You were only a boy.”

“My father was of the same inclination.” The prince sat again also, keeping his fingers intertwined with hers. “He told Egmun to seal the caverns, whatever price had to be paid was not nearly enough. But should Egmun be successful, he would be pardoned. He went back to the caverns, and he lived up to his word. At first, the lingering magic of my mother’s barrier rejected him, and I ended up being forced to help him establish a new barrier in the structure of the old one.”

“That’s why he doesn’t have magic anymore,” she realized. The minister had given up his power to restore the barrier.

“After that, Egmun was awarded his life and a position on the Senate for holding his tongue about how the crown prince had started the War of the Crystal Caverns,” he murmured.

“I realized I was a bad person to be around. I caused countless deaths. I let evil, true evil, into the world.” Aldrik pressed his palms into his eyes. “My life, from then on, was built around a lie. A lie that I was not some monster who, had I not been the crown prince, would have been put to death. A lie that I was still a prince worthy of the crown that rested upon my head. So I became the prince of lies. I embraced being the black sheep. Perhaps I thought eventually it would make my father see I wasn’t fit for the throne. I still have never been punished properly for the weight of my crimes.”

He finally ran out of words, and the sound of his unsteady breathing filled the room. Emotions assaulted her one after the next: shock, horror, anger, pain. Half a dozen more rose in her as she stared at the man quietly suffering before her.

“You must hate me,” Aldrik said softly. “Now that you know me, truly know me, you must hate me.” He continued before she could get a word in, “I should’ve told you so long ago. But I was too selfish; I knew I’d lose you if I did.”

“I’m still here,” she whispered after a long moment. Aldrik stilled, his breathing becoming shallow so he could hang on her every word. “I do not hate you. And I know if you had told Baldair, he would have felt the same as I. He would not have hated you for this. You have punished yourself enough, more than enough; stop blaming yourself for crimes long past, whatever role you may or may not have had in them.”

“Vhalla,” he whispered weakly.

She gripped his hand tightly and pulled him to her. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed him close. “I could never hate you.”

Aldrik buried his face back into her chest and upper shoulder, much like he had before. Though this time, there were far fewer tears, far fewer emotions wracking his body. Then again, perhaps too many emotions were coursing through him that he was simply stunned numb. Either way, she held him gently, trying to offer him as much reassurance as she could.

“I feel better,” he confessed.

“Do you?”

“Better being relative,” he sighed. “But yes.”

“For a prince of lies, you seem to enjoy the truth.” Vhalla smiled weakly. He huffed in amusement. She relished that somehow; he had found the eye of the storm.

“I’m tired.”

“Me, too.”

“Come.” He pulled them off the floor and out of the room.

The prince led her to his room, and she joined him in his bed without a second thought. Singed, bloody clothes and red eyes, they became a tangled mess of limbs. Their chests alternated heaving with tears and feeling so empty that there was no more emotion from which to cry. He never explicitly asked for her to stay, but there was nowhere else Vhalla would’ve been. She eventually fell asleep with him tucked tightly in her arms as a storm brewed just outside the door.





THERE WAS A knock on the outside door.

Vhalla rolled over in her sleep, and Aldrik’s hands followed her. He pulled her to him instinctually, his body curling around her. She sighed softly. Everything hurt less when she was in his embrace.

Another firm knock roused her further. It must have been loud, or it would’ve been impossible to hear from across the large main room and his bedroom. Vhalla blinked her eyes, opening and closing them with a wince at the blinding light.

The knocking continued, and a soft call of Aldrik’s name finally brought him to life.

“Who is it?” she mumbled, staring out the windows. It was just after dawn, so they couldn’t have slept for that long. The sun’s brilliant rays bounced off a thick layer of snow that had fallen on his balcony during the night. The first snow of winter, and Vhalla could feel no joy for it.

“I’m not sure . . .” Aldrik proceeded cautiously to the main room.

“Are you going to answer it?” she whispered, following him.

Aldrik held up a hand in reply and listened.

“Aldrik,” a voice called gently through his main door. “I know you’re in there.”

Vhalla’s head was sluggish with exhaustion. It was too gentle to be the Empress, to clear to be Za. It wasn’t melodic enough to be the princess’s. She thought perhaps it was some cleric or staff, but none of them called the prince by his name. Who could it be?