“You know how!” She turned to him, and a particularly sharp pain pulsed from deep within her abdomen. Vhalla collapsed back onto the bed with a choked sob.
Aldrik could only stare at her as it sunk in, and Vhalla avoided his gaze.
“Elecia.” He was on his feet, storming for the doors. “Elecia, tell me—”
“Stop being stupid,” Elecia said curtly, snapping open the doors and allowing herself back into the room. A hand, cooler than Aldrik’s, smoothed over Vhalla’s forehead. “Vhalla, here, drink this. It’ll help things move along.”
“I don’t want it.” She deserved every wave of pain she was to endure.
“Don’t start this. You promised me that your life would—”
“You don’t even know what my life means!” Vhalla twisted, ignoring the pain to stare down the Westerner. “You don’t know the sacrifices I’ve made. You think this—”
A small bottle was unceremoniously shoved into Vhalla’s mouth between words. It clanked against her teeth and her lips wrapped around it as Elecia forced it into her face. Vhalla swallowed the liquid within, resigned.
“Stop. Stop trying to make the illusion of strength. You don’t need it. Not here. Not now. Let yourself be sad until the real strength returns.” The empty bottle was gently pulled from her lips, and Elecia smoothed some of the hair away from Vhalla’s sweat-dotted forehead. It was a tender gesture that had no precedence between them.
“Cousin,” Elecia walked away as she spoke, “however completely idiotic I think you both have clearly been . . . However much I believe this could be interpreted as a blessing in disguise . . .” There was a long pause. “I am sorry.”
The other woman left, closing the doors once more behind her and resigning her room to the Emperor and his lady. The couch beyond sighed softly as Elecia settled upon it, and Vhalla couldn’t help but remember she had slept on couches in this hotel the last time they were in the Crossroads, spending her night hours healing.
Aldrik hovered for several long breaths before finally returning to the bed. Her love settled on the bed next to her but did not touch her, the small distance between them feeling like the world.
The silence crossed the threshold into agonizing when he finally spoke. “Look at me.”
“No.”
“Do not fight me, not now.” His hand pulled on her shoulder. “Please.”
It was the please that called through to her. Vhalla rolled and looked up at her Emperor with red and burning eyes. Her face was twisted in grief and glistening with snot and tears. Aldrik caressed the expression, replying with tenderness.
“I am . . .” He took a deep breath, “Relieved you are all right.”
Vhalla squeezed her eyes shut. He didn’t even understand a fraction of how she’d wronged them.
“I was so worried.” His lips ghosted against her forehead. “I woke, and you weren’t there. I went to Fritz, and when you weren’t with him . . . If I’d not found you, I was ready to burn down the Crossroads in a rage to find you.”
“Don’t say that,” Vhalla hissed in agony.
“It’s the truth.”
“You said it before.” She remembered him bidding her farewell at a secret door the first time they were at the Crossroads. “Do not say it again. We have to be different than before.”
“Different?”
“I traded fates. We must break the vortex. We must do better.” Vhalla felt sick at herself all over again for what she’d done. The night was becoming a messy blob of memories that were distorting with time. Did she really have any idea what the truth was? Or was she just slowly losing her mind?
“What are you talking about?”
“There was a Firebearer.” Vhalla struggled to collect herself to say what needed to be said. “I met her the last time I came.
She . . . then she told me . . . She told me I would lose you. She told me of Victor. I didn’t understand. I was worried, so I went—”
“You went out? Tonight?” The tender tones were fading from his words.
“I wanted to go alone . . .”
“To some curiosity shop? To a Firebearer with some smoke and mirror tricks? Why didn’t you tell me?” Justified agitation furrowed his brow.
