She didn’t even find it in her to change. Vhalla headed straight for the bed, collapsing on top of another comatose body. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Welcome back, Vhalla,” Larel mumbled groggily.
“What are you doing here?” Vhalla relaxed, wiggling under the blankets.
“I wanted to make sure you made it back,” the Westerner yawned. “How was the rest of your night?”
“Fun.” Vhalla snuggled up to the familiar warmth of Larel.
“Fritz?” Larel closed her eyes.
“Don’t know,” Vhalla said honestly, and wondered if she should feel guilty.
“He’s likely still trying to pick up boys,” Larel laughed tiredly. Her words slurred slightly—Vhalla hadn’t been the only one drinking. “Daniel?”
“Yes, he walked me back.” Vhalla rubbed her face on the pillow.
“He didn’t do anything untoward, did he?” Larel cracked her eyes open to study Vhalla.
Vhalla laughed. “No, he’s wonderful actually,” she admitted treacherously. “I should be with someone like him ...” When Vhalla thought about it, he’d be a sensible choice for her. Only just above her station, Eastern like she was, thoughtful, kind, handsome. She felt strange just musing over the growing list of reasons why Daniel was a good match.
“Aldrik?” With the name alone Vhalla’s rationalization over Daniel and her halted.
“I love him,” she sighed. She loved him so much her heart ached at the thought. One night and too much alcohol couldn’t change what had been growing and building for months, even if it may be for the better. Vhalla picked at the blanket. “What did you feel for Aldrik?”
“What did I feel?” Larel shifted onto her back. “I felt like he was one of the only people who I really had in the world, who really cared for me. I suppose that’s why I called it love.”
“How do you mistake love?” Vhalla asked.Maybe she was mistaken also?
“There are many kinds of love,” Larel said.
“Are there?”
“Do you love Aldrik as you love your father?” A grin was in Larel’s voice.
“Family is different!” Vhalla pushed the other woman’s shoulder.
“I love you,” Larel said softly, stilling Vhalla. The Western woman leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on Vhalla’s forehead. “I don’t love you as a lover. But I love you wholly and completely nonetheless.” Vhalla suddenly felt like crying. “And I love Aldrik—but as my friend; I didn’t and don’t want him between the sheets. When I kissed him, it was strange, awkward; there was nothing to it other than a kiss.”
“I see,” Vhalla barely said over another yawn. She wondered if she kissed Aldrik what she’d feel.
“Let’s go to sleep, Vhalla. It’s late.” Larel shifted closer, before settling.
Vhalla closed her eyes. She imagined Larel’s slow and steady breathing to be Aldrik’s. She imagined it was his warmth radiating close by. Vhalla sighed softly. There was an ache that made her legs shift under the covers. If it was the alcohol or the exhaustion that brought her to admitting it, she knew without doubt, she wanted the crown prince as a woman—as a lover—would.
THROUGH THE OTHERWISEdark room a slit of light streamed between the curtains, causing Vhalla to blink blearily and her head to pound.
“I feel sick,” she groaned softly.
“You drank too much,” Larel mumbled.
“You two,silence,” an agonized whisper ordered.
Both women sat up at the sound of the male voice.
Vhalla peered over the edge of the bed to see a disheveled Fritz collapsed on the floor. “When did you get here?” She paused. “Whyare you here?”
“Larel wasn’t in our room, and I was worried. Then I got sleepy,” Fritz groaned, rolling away from the light. “No more talking.”
