“I didn’t want you to tell me not to go.”
“So you knew I would disapprove?” His touch vanished, and Aldrik withdrew. “You couldn’t respect my wishes. No, not even enough to try to talk it over with me?”
“I should’ve explained.”
“You should have. You don’t keep secrets from me, not you.” There was genuine pain now in his voice. His old insecurities flared brightly, and the wounds that had scarred his heart saw light once more.
“You know I don’t.” Vhalla looked at him for a long moment, challenging him to object.
He cursed softly and looked away.
“I’m sorry, I handled this poorly. I just wanted to know if . . . if we would really make it.”
“You shouldn’t have to ask a Firebearer to know that,” he mumbled.
“It isn’t as though we haven’t been on the run for weeks! I was scared, Aldrik. I thought that I could find something, some small reassurance to sooth the worry in my heart but . . .” She’d talked herself to the threshold she’d feared all along. How could she summarize what had transpired in a way that he would take seriously?
“But?” Aldrik pressed. “This Firebearer, did she touch you?” he growled. There was a protective dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Is it because of her that we lost . . .” Aldrik couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“No.” This was her responsibility, and Vhalla would accept it. “That was my fault alone.”
“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled.
She had to take a second and brace herself for what had to come next. Vhalla wanted to put the night behind her so badly, but she couldn’t do that if there were truths left unsaid. Through the slowly thickening haze in her head, she forced herself to carry on.
“I gave away the watch you made.”
He was so silent she wondered if he somehow hadn’t heard her. “You . . . what?”
“I had a reason!” Vhalla freed her hand from the blanket, thrusting her silver trophy before him. “This, Aldrik, with this—”
“Another pocket watch? Did you tire of mine so you wanted something more—”
“It’s a vessel!” Their pattern of interruption ended with that. His mouth hung open on the unformed word she had stolen from him with the truth. “It’s a vessel.”
“What?”
“It’s an unintentional vessel I made back when the Firebearer last looked into the flames to answer my question,” Vhalla explained quickly. “With this . . . With this I should be able to . . .”
Her words failed. Despite what she had just told him, the hurt had yet to vanish from his expression. Vhalla suspected she could’ve said she traded his watch for the entire Crescent Continent, and Aldrik would’ve still been pained. Tonight, she hadn’t paid the price for her choices. Aldrik had.
“It’s my fault . . . I wanted you, so I stayed. And because I stayed, I was where Victor could get me. All the people who have died, Erion, Craig, Raylynn, your father—it’s all because of me. All the pain is my responsibility. With this, with my magic, I can right what I wronged. I can beat Victor at his own game. He thinks he can kill or force all Windwalkers into hiding. But I will stand against him. I will do what I must for our people before I do what I want for myself.”
He was as still as a statue. Vhalla took the weight of his gaze upon her shoulders as well. She was carrying the world, and he was but one point upon it. Everything was lost if she did not make her vow a reality.
“I wanted to make things right. I hurt you while doing so, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to. But I . . .”
The heat of his palm on her lower abdomen silenced her. Vhalla stared at the man who was to be her husband. A storm raged just behind the darkness of his eyes.
He sighed. “What have I done to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t ask for.” She’d asked to be Empress. She’d chosen it the moment she’d chosen him. She’d been so busy surviving that she hadn’t accepted what that really meant. Now it wasn’t just about her survival, but her people’s.
“You should sleep. Your body needs to heal.”
Vhalla leaned forward, pressing her forehead into his sternum. Aldrik shifted to snake his arms around her. “I lost him,” she breathed.
“No.”
