“The son of your dreams—” she tried to continue.
“Was not this child.”
Vhalla wished she could make him understand. His dreams had been scattered to the wind. Their future, the red lines of fate he had looked forward to, had been interrupted. But Vhalla didn’t try to make Aldrik comprehend the truth that was filling the hollow within her. Only one of them would have to bear this truth, and that would be her.
“We will try again.” He kissed the top of her head. “When we are wed, when I have my throne. That is when our child will be born. And when that day comes, this night will be nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.”
She needed his optimism. Her head was thick and heavy. Vhalla suspected the potion Elecia forced down her throat had been laced with Deep Sleep, but the cleric knew best. She closed her eyes, and Vhalla gave herself to that welcoming blackness.
The bed was cold, and dawn hovered in the morning air when Vhalla finally stirred. She heard Aldrik’s voice from the adjacent room, the sound pulling her the rest of the way from sleep.
“How did you find her?”
“She just appeared in the night,” Elecia responded.
Vhalla blinked groggily, the Deep Sleep slow to release her mind.
“She said she went to a curiosity shop. Jax, I want every last one in this Gods forsaken city turned up-side-down with the most discretion you can manage. If even one confesses any knowledge, I want to know everything. And—” Aldrik’s voice dripped acidic malice off his tongue. “—should you find one that laid a finger upon her . . .”
“No one will ever find the body,” Jax filled in the blank with methodological viciousness.
Vhalla shook her head, pulling herself into a seated position. Vi was long gone. Whatever that woman was, it was nothing like any of them had ever seen, and there was no way she had remained. Still, there was little point in trying to call Aldrik off on his demands. Vhalla was happy to concede to them if it pleased him and eased his pain.
“Now, Fritz, she claims this is a vessel.”
“It-it does feel like her magic,” Fritz confirmed with evident surprise.
“I already told you that.” Elecia’s eye roll was heard by Vhalla from the other room.
“You will help withdraw the magic so her Channel can be restored.”
“I’ve never—”
“I am not asking you, Fritznangle, I am telling you as your Emperor.”
Vhalla rubbed her abdomen. She needed to get up and call off her protective love before he made an ass of himself to their friends.
“But not yet,” Elecia said firmly. “I see what you are doing.”
“Elecia—” Aldrik warned.
“No. You are trying to fix it all and force it back to where it is comfortable for you. But you cannot force her. Her body is healing. This isn’t a battle scar, and it’s not going to be fixed when we don’t see blood anymore. You are healing, too.”
“Aldrik,” Vhalla called.
“Vhalla, what is it?” The doors were thrown open, and he rushed to her side. “What hurts?”
“I woke, and you weren’t here.” She tried to force a small smile.
“I was only taking care of a few things, my love. I’m here. I’m with you.”
“Stay,” Vhalla demanded.
Aldrik’s hair was a mess, and his eyes looked sunken. Somehow, his face had become gaunter in one night. Elecia’s advice to Aldrik hit Vhalla’s heart. They were both hurting, and that hurt would only be soothed by being together and letting themselves be sad.
Elecia came in as Aldrik situated himself next to her. She had clearly spent some of the night acquiring and preparing a new flight of potions for Vhalla to ingest. As the healer was leaving, Aldrik requested that she find a book for them to read.
Vhalla wondered if he had known what she needed to feel better. Or if, somehow in his own turmoil, he needed the same things as she. They spent the day tucked together, ignoring the world.
