“We have received a reply. Come now,” Emperor Solaris demanded.
“Coming, coming,” Baldair’s muffled voice could barely be heard.
The Emperor appeared to have no interest in waiting for his sons as his footsteps faded away.
Aldrik turned to her, in shock. “A reply,” he breathed.
Vhalla couldn’t find words.
“A reply!” Aldrik placed his palms on either side of her face, pulling her in for a fierce kiss. “I would bet it is a surrender. Given the display ofourmight.”
Aldrik stood quickly, pulling on a fresh shirt. Or rather, a fresher one than the one he’d worn through the battle. Vhalla looked at the bed sheets, completely soiled from the state they’d went to sleep in. She was suddenly regretting the decision not to change her clothes. She didn’t look forward to sleeping in that filth before the march home.
“I will go help finish this war.” Aldrik paused by the door. “Then I will speak with my father, and you will be a Lady of the Court.”
“Do you really think so?” Vhalla’s hand gripped the watch around her neck tightly, realizing how much she needed it to be true.
“Of course.” Aldrik beamed. “You were brilliant. All eyes turned to you for inspiration; it was literally painted upon half the army. The merit of your accolade will not be questioned.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but there was a soft set of knocks on the door.
Aldrik opened it for Baldair.
“Are you coming?” Baldair glanced at her, and Vhalla smiled tiredly.
“Yes, yes.” Aldrik grabbed his chainmail off the floor, quickly donning it. “I shall return soon as I am able. Sleep more if you can,” he said to Vhalla.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She yawned and rolled onto her side, pulling up the covers once more.
“Lucky,” Vhalla heard Baldair mutter under his breath, and she couldn’t help but giggle softly. The door closed, and she listened to their footsteps disappear down the hall. Vhalla pulled the blanket to her nose. The smell was truly awful.
She wasn’t sure how long she had fallen asleep again for, but it was long enough for the light to have moved across the floor a noticeable distance. The shouting and arguing of men called her to life. Vhalla yawned, instantly regretting the instinctual movement as the semi-smoky air filled her lungs. She sat coughing, trying to listening more closely to the aggressive noises.
Vhalla tried to use her magical hearing to make out the words, but her Channel was too weak to sustain even that. What she could hear was that they were frequent and angry. The deep resonance of Aldrik’s fury competed against the Emperor’s sharp and fierce tones. Vhalla bit her lip and stood, her whole body aching.
Tugging at the chain around her neck, she opened her watch and checked the time. It was around two, which meant she had close to eight hours of sleep. Yet, she still felt exhausted. The magical depletion had taken its toll, and without the rush of battle to hide it, she realized how much she had used up the night before.
There was another bout of shouting, and she heard something crash. Vhalla winced. Whatever their topic of discussion was, it did not seem good, and it was pitting two people against each other, two people whom Vhalla wanted to keep as separate as possible for everyone’s benefit. Judging from the muffled nature of it and the location of the sound, they were likely at the far end of the main hall.
Deciding to brave whatever the world may hold, Vhalla ran a hand through her greasy hair and tried to plait it into a messy braid. It was hopeless, and Vhalla could only resign herself to the fact that Aldrik, the army, and the Emperor had seen her in worse situations. No one was about to win any awards for their beauty.
She didn’t even bother changing her tunic. Vhalla contemplated her armor, piled on the floor, but it was even dirtier; the last thing she wanted to do was put her metallic skin back on. The North had been subdued anyway, Vhalla mused as she left the room;there wouldn’t be any more battles.
She flinched, halting at the doorway to the main hall.
“You will do this!” the Emperor snapped.
“You cannot dictate what I will and will not do!” Vhalla heard another slam punctuate Aldrik’s words.
“This is not your decision,” the Emperor warned dangerously.
“More than anything,thisismydecision!” Aldrik shot back. “Was this your play all along? Was this the real reason why you spoke against her suggestion of torching Soricium?”
Vhalla’s heart pounded in her ears, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear any more of this particular conversation. With a deep breath, and garnering more bravery than she had used to face the Northerners, Vhalla rounded into the main room, hoping her presence would stop the conversation. She assessed the royal family who stood in the far corner.
Aldrik’s hands were on the table, his shoulders squared against his father, who stood opposite. She saw a barely visible quivering in Aldrik’s arms. His jaw was clenched, and his face was actually flushed with anger. She had never seen him so out of control from rage alone. The Emperor’s arms were folded across his chest, and he sneered in disgust at his son.
Vhalla sympathized the most with Baldair, who was very much an innocent bystander. He had taken at least three full steps away and inched back further with the opportunity to look at her. Vhalla had never before felt so uncomfortable with the royal family’s attentions on her.
