Aldrik roared with laughter. She clenched her fists and scowled at him.
“That was amazing.” He slowly regained control of himself. “A little too much force, though.”
Frustrated, Vhalla picked up a second pebble and held it in her hand again. She connected with it faster this time, but it still refused to move despite her best mental commands. Lifting up her other hand, she flicked her wrist and it was sent soaring across the pond, though not as far.
Aldrik leaned forward, both elbows on his knees and his hands folded between. His raven eyes followed her every movement as Vhalla picked up the third stone. This time she did not even close her eyes to understand where the pebble was magically. Her fingers twitched, and it fell just to the other side of the water.
The fourth landed in the center of the pond with a dull plop and cry of victory from Vhalla.
Then there were the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh, each of which had a bad angle, moved too slowly, or landed wide again. Vhalla wiped her brow with the back of her hand, noticing her breathing had become labored.
The prince stood. “That is enough for today,” Aldrik said thoughtfully.
“But I’ve almost got it,” she protested.
“And are fully prepared to exhaust yourself in your attempt to get it.” He offered her his elbow. “Come.”
She clutched the eighth stone another second before giving in and replacing it with his arm. Vhalla took a deep breath, relaxing herself.
“We will need to work on your technique,” Aldrik explained as they walked. “You do not need to attach magical feats to physical movements.”
“It didn’t work the other way.” Vhalla shook her head.
“It will in time,” he encouraged her. “Do not become too reliant upon your magic requiring a physical motion.”
“Show me?” she asked timidly as they re-entered the greenhouse.
“What am I to show?” Aldrik asked, starting for the bench.
“Your magic, without motion,” Vhalla clarified.
“Very well.” The prince patted the bench next to him, and she assumed her prior position. Vhalla did not even realize that she had just made a demand of the prince.
Suddenly his outstretched palm was set ablaze. Tendrils of flame licked up from around his wrist. They circled his fingers and relished the air with their bright dance before fading. Vhalla stared, mesmerized. Aldrik did much the same.
With a timid hand she reached up. The moment her fingers crossed the point of heat the flame extinguished. His hand caught hers.
“Careful,” the prince said thoughtfully. “I would not want you to get burned.”
They hovered, the heat of his hand enveloping hers. Her throat felt gummy. Neither of them seemed to be able to fathom words over the ringing silence.
“Right,” Vhalla said, breaking the trance first, pulling her hand away and fussing with her cuticles as though they had become the most fascinating things in the world. It was hot enough in the greenhouse that her cheeks were flushed, and Vhalla quickly reached down to her bag underneath the bench, hiding her face.
Placing the leather satchel in her lap, Vhalla unwrapped the lemon cake after only a moment’s debate. She wasn’t even certain the prince liked sweets, but she still felt compelled to share her spoils with him. Ripping the hand-sized cake in two, Vhalla offered half—the smaller one—to him. Aldrik arched an eyebrow.
“It’s a lemon cake,” she explained.
“I know what it is.” He took it from her hand, sniffing it.
“It’s good, I promise.” She grinned. He took a bite. “They’re actually my favorite.”
“Not a bad batch,” he affirmed.
Vhalla’s chewing slowed. Of course the prince would have eaten the lemon cakes before.
“So, you simply carry a lemon cake with you each day?” he asked.
“No,” Vhalla shook her head. “I’m not supposed to have it as I’m an apprentice. It could get the kitchen staff in trouble if someone important knew they gave me one.” Aldrik smirked. Vhalla continued, hoping that did not come to pass, “But if I beg on my birthday to the right person, I normally get lucky.”
