Vhalla settled the covers around her. Her blood felt on fire with shame for listening in on a conversation that wasn’t meant for her ears. But that was not the only thing burning her. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to let him know that she felt much the same and more and that she was never going to let the world rip him from her needy grasp.

The sound of wood on wood filled the silence as the door was slid open and Vhalla sat.

“You’re awake.” His cheeks were lightly flushed and his lips parted.

“I am.” All eloquence left Vhalla when she looked at him.

“I ...” He glanced between her and the sitting area in the main room.

Vhalla saw the debate on his face and put an end to it. “Stay with me.”

“I shouldn’t.” His focus was now solely on her and it sent sparks up her chest.

“You shouldn’t? Just like you shouldn’t have me in your bed right now, or kiss me, or love me? I’m not, I’m not asking for—” Vhalla gripped the covers and blushed, forcing herself to act a woman, “—for you to make love to me tonight. But I want you near me.”

Aldrik sighed heavily, and Vhalla prepared herself to see him leave for the other room. But he crossed to the bed, crawling over the sheets on his hands and knees to her. Vhalla felt deliciously ensnared, pinned to the pillows before a predatory beast.

The lights extinguished magically as he kissed her, his weight assaulting her senses. Vhalla snuck a hand around his neck, holding his face to hers. He tasted of sweet liquor and every delicious dark dream she’d ever had. She wanted to lose herself to him, to give him everything she had. When he pulled away countless kisses later it didn’t feel even close to enough.

“Aldrik,” she sighed breathlessly.

“No, I won’t. You said not tonight.” The prince read her mind.

“But—”

“No,” Aldrik repeated. He scooped her up into his arms and twisted onto his back, pulling her half onto him. “I also don’t want you to think that I take women to bed lightly.”

“You don’t need to worry. I know.” Vhalla caressed up his stomach, feeling the groves of muscle carved by years of duty through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I don’t care how many it has been, or why. I just want to be here now.”

“How many do you think it has been?” He actually sounded amused.

“I told you, I don’t care.” Her movements stilled.

“Ah-ah, Vhalla, I practically invented dodging questions. You’ve much to learn yet.” He tucked some hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know,” Vhalla resigned. She didn’t want to offend him with her guess being wildly off. He was six years older than she was, and judging by his brother’s comments he had been significantly more active from a younger age. “Eight?” She took a stab at a number, thinking it would be too low as it was less than one a year since his coming of age ceremony at fifteen.

His laughter rang out through the darkness.

“Three.” “Three?” she repeated. It was more than her grand total of one, but it was far fewer than she had expected.

“Is that a pleased repeat, my parrot?” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

“I suppose so.” She shifted slightly closer to him. “More than me.”

“I’d assume so.”

“What does that mean?” Vhalla huffed in mock offense.

“I used your lack of experience to throw you off balance right off, remember?” He ran his hand down her arm to intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Two isn’t that big of a difference,” Vhalla muttered, unsure how it had become a contest.

“Two.” The simple math took Aldrik far too long. “You mean, you have ...”

It was Vhalla’s turn to laugh. “The East doesn’t really have your Southern notions of a woman’s virgin blood. Yes, one man.”

“And here I thought I was corrupting you.” Vhalla heard the grin in his voice, and she moved her hand to his cheek, feeling how his mouth curled.

“I’m fairly certain you are,” Vhalla teased lightly.

“You’re right,” he teased back. “I am out to dine upon your still beating heart.”

“If that’s all you wanted, you should know I gave it to you a while ago.” Vhalla was confused when she felt the grin slip from his face. “What?”

“How have you not seen it yet that I am not worthy of you?” He grasped her hand, pressing his lips against her fingertips.

“How have you not seen it that you are and more?” Vhalla retorted.

He gave a huff of amusement and squeezed her hand tightly. “I love you, Vhalla Yarl.”

“How fortunate for me.” She yawned. “For I love you as well, my crown prince.”

His breath ruffled her hair slightly as Vhalla pressed closer to the prince, and he filled her senses as she drifted to sleep.

SHE STARED AT the face of a man who was painfully, horribly familiar, and yet was completely different. Egmun wore his hair cropped short to his head, though the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were smoother, the lines around his mouth lighter, and he wore a hint of stubble across his chin. The sight of the younger senator sent Vhalla into a rage-filled dread, the emotion conflicted with what her dream-self was feeling, a sense of calm trust.

Vhalla fought against the vision, struggling to escape, to push Egmun away. She pulled and pried and twisted mentally until something fractured at her raw panic. She stood outside of the body she previously occupied, what should be her body in any other dream.

Aldrik looked like he could be no older than fifteen. His hair was longer, down to his shoulders and tied back at the neck. Messy bangs framed his face, and Vhalla looked on with a strange mixture of love and fear for the wide-eyed boy alone in this dark place with a man she hated more than anyone or anything else.

The room was filled with a haze that mingled ominously with the darkness, making only certain details easily distinguishable. There was a single flame flickering in the cavernous space, and wherever it was, neither the ceiling nor walls were visible by the light. The floor was stone, inlaid with what seemed to be shards of shimmering glass. She tried to get a closer look but a fog covered them every time she tried to focus. There were old looking markings carved beneath their feet, spiraling toward the center where a man was kneeling, bound and blindfolded. He shivered and shook. The fabric covering his eyes was wet with tears.

“Prince Aldrik.” Egmun took a step forward. He wore a formal black coat and dark trousers; there was no sign of his Senatorial chain. “Someday, you will be Emperor. Do you know what that means?”

“I-I do.”

Vhalla turned to the stuttering child.

“So you know that justice will fall to you.” Egmun took another step forward, and Vhalla’s heart began to race, feeling hopelessly trapped. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to see this. “It was your mother’s last request for your father to spare you these duties as long as possible.”

“My mother’s?” Vhalla saw a sad flash of hope in the boy’s eyes at the mention of the mother he never knew.

“But you will soon be a man, won’t you?” Egmun asked softly.

“I will.” The boy prince took a deep breath, as if to grow into all his height in one moment.

“It is rather unfair, no? For your father to be treating you like a child?” Vhalla watched the man grin, and she knew this Aldrik had not yet perfected his powers of perception and manipulation. If she could see Egmun for what he was in that moment, she had no doubt the adult Aldrik would as well. “Are you prepared to be the crown prince this realm needs?”

“I am,” Aldrik repeated through obvious doubt. Even though the space was cold, sweat dotted his brow.

“Then, my prince, for justice, for the strength of Solaris, for the future of your Empire, slay this man.” Egmun dropped dramatically to a knee. He pulled at the rope which attached a short sword to his belt and held out the blade expectantly.