Vhalla’s tears had stopped, and she wiped her cheeks with her palms. He made no motion; he barely seemed to be breathing. She took a deep breath and rubbed her nose.
She mattered to Aldrik, Vhalla didn’t have the energy to process the how or why.
“Did those guards really steal from the Empire?” Vhalla asked, finding her voice surprisingly stable.
He sat down again. His knuckles were indeed bloody. “No,” Aldrik answered directly.
Vhalla closed her eyes, and took a breath. “Aldrik,” she said weakly. “What do you want from me, really? What am I to you? Am I a conquest? A trophy? A project? An amusement? A tool?”
He needed to tell her now. Guessing would tear her apart, and his slew of confessions was too muddled for her exhausted brain to sort through. They were nothing until she knew.
“You,” he paused.
She searched his face, trying to understand all the complex emotions that hung upon his lips. Aldrik glanced away with a small sigh, but he returned his eyes to her with a softness they had not possessed in some time. “You are a dear friend. For whatever my royal ass of a friendship is worth.”
Vhalla smiled weakly. She reached out and his body went rigid. “It is worth very much,” she whispered.
He barely seemed to breathe as she leaned over the distance between them to tuck the stray bangs back with the rest of his hair. He reached up and caught her hand gently in his.
“Don’t...” she protested weakly.
He stopped her from withdrawing this time, his grip warm but not painful. “Why?”
“Because I-I,” Vhalla’s lower lip trembled and her cheeks burned.
“You foolish girl,” he murmured. “As anything could make me not want to touch you.”
She tensed but allowed his gentle caress to wipe away the remnants of Rat and Mole’s abuse and Egmun’s words. There was something about his skin alone that was therapeutic. No matter what the world did to her, his warmth remained.
“My magic...” Vhalla said after a long moment, feeling electric tingles under the pads of his fingers. “Is it—broken?”
“Broken?” he asked, the talk of magic relaxing him.
“It hasn’t felt right since I woke up,” she explained.
“Ah,” Aldrik shook his head. “No, not broken. You’re likely exhausted from the exertion. It is a wonder you did not use it up completely, then you would really be in trouble.”
“It’s all trouble, isn’t it?” She laughed weakly and was rewarded with a small smirk from him as well. Vhalla took a deep breath and gathered her strength. “Aldrik, I need your honesty. I don’t care about your reputation. I want you to be open with me.” She paused, swallowing hard. “For however long I may continue to be alive.”
“You shall have it.” The crown prince nodded. “Do not be afraid, Vhalla. I will not let them kill you.” He made two dangerous promises in two breaths. Yet something in his voice told her he was ready to go to great lengths to keep both. Aldrik squeezed her hand gently. “I should return. The break for lunch will be over soon, and after my testimony I am sure they will want me accounted for.”
She gripped his hand as though her life depended on it, feeling tears protest his departure. He stopped all movement. Even after his confessions, after the anger, after all she’d been though, he remained. Aldrik, her prince—good or evil—remained with her. They both stared, waiting for the other to make the first move. Vhalla would have given anything for time to stop.
“Please don’t go,” she whispered faintly. “I don’t want to face their verdict alone.” Her shoulders trembled, and she struggled to keep the tears contained. As the time ticked down Vhalla realized, with earth-shaking horror, the notion of dying terrified her.
“Vhalla...” he breathed faintly. “You are never alone. I will be there.” He took her palm and placed it on his hip, his body was even warmer than his hands. “Never forget, we are Bound.”
Vhalla remembered that dark and ugly spot from the day in the garden. She looked at where her hand now rested on the prince’s side.
“We will face it together.” His tone was sincere and serious. She looked for reassurance, and he lavished it upon her with only his eyes. One more time, Vhalla let herself shamelessly fall into those dark depths, before he rose to leave.
IF CRAIG AND Daniel had heard anything, they made no indication when she met them shortly after. They also had the decency not to comment on her eyes being red and puffy. Vhalla replayed the surreal conversation in her head as she followed the guards.
The prince was ever an enigma.
He had said he was her friend. Vhalla wondered exactly how he had been taught the meaning of friendship. The lines of truth and lies were blurred with him and her life hadn’t exactly improved since he had entered it.
She resumed her seat by the door after Craig and Daniel locked her back in. Aldrik, she thought, not daring to say his name aloud. No matter what had happened, she couldn’t find it in her to regret meeting the dark prince.
“Friends, huh...” she breathed, remembering how he held her beneath the stars. Vhalla opened her eyes before her mind betrayed her.
The door at the end of the hall banged open. Vhalla heard the scampering of small feet and turned. A servant boy dressed in a dull gray tunic came running. “The prisoner is requested.”
Craig and Daniel exchanged a look before turning to her. Vhalla nodded and stood; it was time. They unlocked the door and she walked unshackled to the courtroom. No matter what happened, she found relief knowing this was the last time she would make this walk. The door opened before her, and Vhalla plunged herself into the light, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the late afternoon sun.
The Senate was there and seated. Some stared at her in anger, others regarded her with calm. Vhalla tried to determine if the senators who had called for her death looked angry or happy. She couldn’t decide. Egmun sat in the center, and he stared at her queerly. His eyes made her uncomfortable. Vhalla’s skin crawled, and she looked away.
The royal family sat on their thrones. Prince Baldair wore a conflicted frown. The Emperor was banging his staff again, but Vhalla barely heard it as her eyes met Aldrik’s. He wore a tortured expression on his features and looked away quickly when he saw her stare. Vhalla’s stomach turned upside-down.
“Vhalla Yarl.” The Emperor stood. “After much deliberation and review of the evidence,” Vhalla noticed he glanced at his eldest son a brief moment, “this high court has come to a verdict. Head Elect?”
Egmun stood. He held out a large piece of parchment before him that he read from. “Vhalla Yarl, on this day two hundred thirty-four years after the birth of the first Solaris, you have been judged for your crimes against the people of the Great Solaris Empire.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, forcing her hands to stay at her sides.
“For the crime of recklessness, we have found you guilty.”
Vhalla breathed sharply through her nose.
“For the crime of endangerment, we have found you guilty.”
She clutched the sides of her burlap sack.
“For the crime of impersonation of nobility, we have found you guilty.”
Vhalla looked sideways at Baldair. Clearly he had not offered much defense for his role in that particular offense.
“For the crime of public destruction, we have found you guilty.”
She began to feel dizzy.
Egmun continued to read as they looked down upon her. “For the crime of heresy, we have found you not guilty.”
It was a start.
“For the crime of murder, we have found you not guilty.”
She gripped the bars taking a slow breath.
“For the crime of treason,” Egmun’s eyes flicked over to her a brief moment. “We have found you not guilty.”