Fire Falling (22 page)

“Very few things I find in my world are what I would call
normal
at this moment, my lord.” She nibbled on bread, her brain continuing to obsess over being in love with the crown prince.

The Emperor chuckled. “Yet you rebound and become stronger. I knew you had strength in you when I saw you in that cage.”

Vhalla continued to try to eat politely, struggling with her bandaged fingers. She didn’t want to think of her trial. She didn’t even really want to be sitting at this table.

“I am prepared to pardon you for your crimes,” the Emperor mused, sipping his wine.

She stared in shock.
A pardon?
Someone needed to pinch her, she was dreaming. “My lord?”

“You earned sufficient trust for a second chance by saving the life of one prince. I think potentially saving the life of the Imperial family, perhaps the Emperor himself, earns you a clean slate.” He wore a smile beneath his beard but his eyes were detached from any levity.

Vhalla paused.
Saving the life of one prince?
Did that mean Aldrik had told him what had really happened on the Night of Fire and Wind? She refrained from looking over to the crown prince.

“Thank you, my lord.” Vhalla lowered her eyes.

“But you see, my hands are tied.” The Emperor chewed thoughtfully on a piece of dark meat, before dabbing his mouth with his napkin and continuing. “The Senate, the voice of the people, they saw your military service as the fitting punishment, and I would not want to betray the trust of my loyal subjects.”

“Of course not ...” Vhalla said numbly, the word
pardon
echoed over and over again in her head.

“Don’t be fooled, Vhalla. They’re as hungry as ever, and if I pardoned you now those same people out there who were saluting you would turn again.” The Emperor glanced up at her.

From the corners of her eyes she could see Aldrik shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“But if you were to give us victory.” The man chuckled. “Now
that
would be something worth reward.”

“Victory? I don’t know how I could ...” Vhalla fumbled. Her sentence seemed to be increasing, not diminishing. Before she was only meant to serve in the war; now she had to bring victory?
Had they ever planned on freeing her?

The Emperor’s icy blue eyes flicked over to Aldrik. The eldest prince took a very long dreg of his wine. “My son tells me he’s been working with you on something important.”

Vhalla said nothing for fear of incriminating her and Aldrik with something he’d yet to mention to his father. But there were things she couldn’t imagine him ever saying. Despite herself, she glanced at the dark prince.

“He tells me you can give me the North with your powers as a Windwalker.” The Emperor leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

“I am still learning most of my own abilities myself,” she hedged carefully.

“I have been made aware.” The Emperor waved the concerns away. “Aldrik has sent me detailed reports of your investigations into them.”

“I see ...” Vhalla murmured, looking at the man in question curiously. Aldrik did not seem to stop occupying his mouth with his wine glass.

The notes Aldrik had been taking on their Bonding flashed in her mind. He said he was going to use them for reference. He had told her that he had a plan to take the North using her power.
So why did she suddenly feel betrayed?

“While I am extensively impressed with your abilities to command wind and storms, what I am most intrigued by, Vhalla, is this ability to place your mind beyond your body. It seems too astounding to be real. How confident are you in your control?” The Emperor finally reached his point.

Vhalla swallowed hard and reached for her glass of water, ignoring the alcohol. This was not a polite call to thank her for saving his army. That was a pleasant excuse for him to sit her down and formulate battle strategy.

“I suppose the crown prince would have a better judge of my control, he is far more experienced than I.” Vhalla muttered as she stabbed at some food on her plate, chewing through the silence that followed.

“You think she will be ready?” The Emperor turned to Aldrik.

Vhalla’s eyes drifted upward just in time to catch his as they fell on her with a frown.

“I think she will be,” Aldrik replied, turning to his father.

“Then I’d like a demonstration before we leave the Crossroads.” The Emperor sat back in his chair and folded his hands. “A demonstration? Why?” Aldrik asked, bolder than Vhalla could ever be.

“I need assurance.” The Emperor did not look pleased at being questioned by his son.

“In light of recent events, I’m not sure if magically that’s—” Aldrik started.

“You will have your demonstration.” Vhalla focused on the Emperor, ignoring Aldrik and the fact that she had interrupted him.

“
Ah
, there is the fire I saw at the trial.” The Emperor smiled. She glanced at Aldrik, he barely constrained his frustration. “There are opportunities in your future, Vhalla Yarl. Obedience is rewarded.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Vhalla was suddenly ambivalent to it all. She felt maneuvered and played, but she wasn’t sure by whom.

Aldrik had been honest with her about their meetings.
So why did it hurt so much?
Vhalla wrung her hands in her lap.

The second the food cleared Vhalla was eager to make her escape. “Please, forgive me my lords, I feel quite exhausted.”

“Certainly. Recover quickly, Vhalla Yarl.” The Emperor and his sons stood as well. “We shall reconvene in a few days.”

Vhalla nodded mutely, gave a small bow, and turned to the door.

She felt him before Aldrik even moved.

“I will make sure she returns to the inn,” the crown prince declared.

“Aldrik, I would like you to go over a few plans for managing the troop additions. They will arrive within the next few days, and you have your matters with Elecia.” The Emperor’s voice was definite.

Vhalla bristled at the other woman’s name. She’d all but forgotten Aldrik’s
business
.

“I shall just be a moment,” the eldest prince protested.

“It is not necessary, my prince. The walk is not far and I don’t mind being alone for it,” Vhalla countered.

Aldrik’s eyes squinted slightly in confusion or agitation. “I would much prefer to leave nothing to chance,” he said tensely. “The Crossroads can be full of unsavory characters.”

“My brother, ever concerned for the well-being of his subjects.” Prince Baldair strolled to her side. “Luckily, you have two sons, Father. I would be happy to make sure our little Windwalker makes it home safe and sound.”

Vhalla looked up at the golden prince in confusion. She was fairly certain she’d just said that she would walk alone.

“Excellent suggestion, Baldair.” The Emperor walked over to the large table and motioned for Aldrik to follow. “I look forward to your demonstration, Miss Yarl,” the Emperor said before turning his attention to the maps and papers on his table.

Aldrik stared at her hopelessly, then glared at his brother, but he went obediently to his father’s side.

Vhalla felt Aldrik’s eyes on her as Prince Baldair’s hand fell lightly on her hip, and he led her out of the room into the morning sun.

“Please remove your hand from my person,” Vhalla mumbled to the Heartbreaker Prince.

He flashed her a toothy grin. “Now, now, be more gracious,” he said charmingly. “People are watching you.” He smiled at a few soldiers as he began leading her back across the square.

“Exactly,” she replied. People watching was precisely what she was worried about.

“Oh? Don’t want them to think that you’re involved with me?” Prince Baldair returned a wave. “Just my brother?”

Vhalla glared at him. “Let it drop,” she cautioned. Her pace quickened to cross the distance faster.

“Not until you realize he’s playing you.” All jest, all joy was gone from his voice, and Prince Baldair’s face had turned serious.

“It’s not your business,” Vhalla argued.

“I thought he wasn’t. I thought maybe he had changed.” The prince held the door of the inn open for her, and Vhalla all but flew up the stairs. “But from what I saw,
what I’ve heard,
this past day—that’s not the case.”

Vhalla bit her tongue and swung open her door, hoping Larel would be waiting and would save her. She was not. The prince caught the closing door with a hand, and Vhalla turned sharply.

“I am still recovering, my prince, and would like to rest. Please, excuse me.” She mustered the last of her polite decorum.

“I am trying to help,” he said.

Vhalla saw concern marked across his pained expression. “Oh?” Her patience ran thin. “Like you helped the last time we had a little
chat?”

“Everything I told you then was true.” Something in his tone gave Vhalla pause, she swayed slightly. “Vhalla, please sit. My brother and Father will give me hell if something ill befalls you on my watch.”

Vhalla eased herself onto the bed, pulling off her boots and lying down. She rolled on her side, her back to the prince. Everything hurt the moment she began to relax, but there was not much opportunity to do so as the prince rounded to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. Vhalla glared at him.

“Vhalla, please listen. I want to tell you something,” Prince Baldair implored.

She sighed. “If I listen, will you go?”

He nodded, and Vhalla waited expectantly. “My brother and I are three years apart, which is a significant gap when you are five and eight, or twelve and fifteen, but at fifteen and eighteen and up it becomes less and less significant.” She wondered why he was exhausting her with trivia about their birthdays. “Not long after my ceremony of manhood there was a year where my brother and I decided to engage in some
friendly competition
.”

“Friendly competition?” Vhalla braced herself for what that meant between these men.

“I’ve always been ... charming.” Prince Baldair smiled at her, and she didn’t even refrain from rolling her eyes. At least he laughed. “My brother grew as a strange, sad child. At one point it seemed as though he hit a new low and just gave into the darkness and distance surrounding him. To be honest, I never saw him leave it.”

Vhalla found it interesting how Prince Baldair’s and Larel’s descriptions could be both similar and different.

“At some point we had a row, and doesn’t really matter about what, he was eighteen and I was at the ever hot-headed age of fifteen. I said he could not even get a woman to so much as glance at him because of how he was.” Vhalla stilled, beginning to listen intently. “For whatever reason, my brother took the challenge.”

“Challenge?” she repeated softly.

“For one year, it was a challenge for who could have the most women agree to share their bed.”

Vhalla’s eyes widened. “That’s ... awful.”

“It is certainly not the worst thing either of us have done to pass the time. Nor the worst thing young princes have ever, or will ever, do.” Vhalla saw the likely truth of his words with horror. “At first, I was an
overnight
favorite. But I underestimated my brother. One by one, like flies in a web, they began to offer themselves to him. I didn’t understand and it frustrated me daily. How my lanky, awkward, depressing shell of a brother managed to reclaim a solid lead.”

“Enough, I get it.” She pressed her face into her pillow.

“No, we haven’t gotten to the point yet.” He had a grim expression and Vhalla obliged silently. “I thought it was simply because he was the crown prince. But that wasn’t the case as the ladies seemed to call long after their turn was up, ever hopeful. Eventually I found he was not actually taking them to bed. They agreed to it, which given the wording of our bet placed him in the lead. But he never actually
took
one of them.”

Vhalla’s brow furrowed. “Why not?” Of course, she felt happy hearing that he hadn’t slept with a host of women, though luring them in like cattle seemed bad enough.

“I finally asked him once when I confronted him about the terms of the challenge. I’ll never forget what he told me.” Prince Baldair looked away. “He told me that it was the hunt that he relished. That none of them were good enough to merit his touch. That he did not have to kill the prey to have the satisfaction of the win. It was amusing; it was sport to watch them fall. For the next six months after, I watched him skillfully play every eligible woman he met. Somehow he knew what they wanted to hear, how they wanted to be led, and he did it with a complete mask of sincerity. He took things from them, but not their bodies. Their dignity, their time, their dreams ...”

“Please, I understand,” Vhalla breathed and was too tired to be as strong as she wanted to be.

Prince Baldair sighed and reached out, placing a large palm on the top of her head. Vhalla tensed at the momentary foreign touch.

“I thought maybe he’d changed.” The prince’s voice was soft. “But then I overheard a conversation between him and Father. Aldrik swore that he would be the one to make you obligated to gain victory. That you would be mindlessly obedient to him above all else and that he had you under his command without question. That the sandstorm was an example of this—and I realized he’d never relinquish the control he has on people.”

“Prince Baldair, I am very tired,” she whispered. The notes on the Emperor’s table returned to her, the mention of reports being given. Had she been a puppet for Aldrik and his father the whole time? Paying the greatest actor in the world with her emotions?

“I do agree with them—Aldrik and my father. You are smart, Vhalla. Please, just see him for what he is?” Prince Baldair searched her.

Vhalla closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to cower. “I appreciate your concern, my prince.” It was all she could say in the end.

He sighed heavily. “Rest well, Vhalla.” Prince Baldair stood.

She relied only on the sounds of his departure.

Vhalla shivered, despite the room being warm. Of course, the day she realized she was hopelessly in love with a man was also the day she would be given additional proof of his being a rather twisted ass. At least, if one considered Prince Baldair’s word as proof. Vhalla laughed, and coughed from the state of her lungs.