“Vhalla Yarl.”
The senator looked Vhalla up and down for a long moment, squinting. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“I’ve been told death doesn’t suit me.”
“It didn’t suit the Vhalla Yarl I knew, either.” The lines by her eyes deepened as she smiled. “If you are really Vhalla Yarl, tell me what you did to throw the court into disarray during your trial.”
“I stopped Master Mohned from falling,” Vhalla answered easily. “Senator, your Emperor seeks an audience, but he is being refused because you have already had your audience with the West today.”
The woman considered this for a long moment. “Speak honestly; is he truly the Emperor?”
“You will know it to be fact when you see him.”
The senator proved Vhalla correct. The moment she laid eyes on Aldrik, her hesitation vanished. Within minutes, they were sipping cool wheat tea and heatedly discussing plans to implement with the West. By the time they were finished, the sun was low in the sky.
It was easier than Vhalla had expected. The East and West seemed to just fall into place. Without the complication over whose claim to the throne was the strongest and who would likely garner more support across the continent, the East had little hesitation in supporting Aldrik’s assertion.
“This feels too easy,” she remarked to Aldrik as they walked through the curving hallway on their way to where the messenger birds of Hastan were kept.
“Let it be so,” he chuckled. “We have had enough hardship.”
“So it’s what I expect.” Vhalla linked her arm with his, enjoying the quiet. It felt like forever since they had last been alone. Elecia had chosen to sleep in the camp with her father. But Fritz and Jax were joining Vhalla and Aldrik in the government building, so Vhalla expected such times to be limited.
“My father,” Aldrik said thoughtfully. “For all his flaws, he had a vision that takes roots in the hearts of men. A vision of a single banner, uniting us all. Of struggling for a better future rather than against each other.”
Vhalla gripped his arm for a moment, debating if she should bring up the Crescent Continent. She put a quick end to her debate. He didn’t need to be reminded of his father’s ruthlessness. She would allow him a memory colored with fondness.
Aldrik continued, “It’s an ideal people are still willing to fight for. Because we were so close we could taste it.”
“You will end this war and be an Emperor for peace.” Vhalla permitted herself a tiny smile at the notion.
“We will end it. And we will be the rulers for peace.”
THE NIGHT’S DARKNESS enveloped the last messenger bird. Vhalla’s hands were ink stained and tired. She’d written triple the number of letters Aldrik had, but only a third had been sent. She had never written letters as an Empress before, and it proved more difficult than expected to capture and hold the right tone.
Vhalla had scrapped the first batch on her own and then the second after Aldrik’s critique. Eventually she developed a formula for informing the Western lords and ladies that their Emperor was alive. But by the time she’d mastered it, Aldrik had already finished the majority on his own.
“Come.” He took her hand in his, drawing her attention away from the window. “We should rest.”
Vhalla appreciated the simple elegance of the Eastern government building. It was the original senate hall, and it was as opulent as could be expected of the East without being needlessly lavish. The floors were multi-colored wood, inlaid in a zig-zag pattern of light and dark. A handful of portraits in tasteful frames lined the hall at wide intervals. Candlelight gleamed off the floor polish.
But the beauty had a certain darkness tainting it at the shadows. This place stood for a government created by the people, to serve the people—the East’s great experiment. As long as Victor was alive, it would only be a shade of its former glory, its growth stinted by the shade of a madman.
She rubbed her shoulder absent-mindedly. The scar no longer ached to the touch. It had healed over to an ugly, but otherwise harmless, mark.
They passed Jax and Fritz’s temporary chambers on the way to their rooms. Vhalla would have stopped in to spend time with her friend, but no light peeked out from under his door. Vhalla hoped that he was getting some much needed sleep in a real bed.
She and Aldrik had separate rooms, as was deemed chaste and appropriate for their standing. It made Vhalla roll her eyes at the notion. Apparently the senator thought similarly, as the rooms had a connecting door. It fit the East’s lax mentality when it came to physical affection. The notion of sacred chastity was a loose construct placed upon them by the West rather than an important tenant of their culture.
Vhalla naturally found her way into his bed most nights. Their proximity was impossible to fight and, in some ways, she needed him now more than ever. His arms reassured her that she had a place in his world, that she wasn’t a girl pretending to be noble.
Vhalla listened to his slow and steady breathing, debating the words that were burning her tongue. They both needed rest, and he was nearly asleep. Vhalla nuzzled her Emperor’s jaw gently.
“What is it?” Aldrik uttered into the darkness.
“Norin?” she replied.
He sighed softly, pressing his cheek into her forehead. “I did promise we would speak on it.”
