What was his life for if not to serve the gods, to claim his family’s rightful place in Asgard? Four hundred and eighty-one years fighting for one purpose only to find out that nothing he believed in was true.
Souther had died believing in Idavoll’s cause. Had diedforit.
A lump he couldn’t swallow formed in his throat as he thought of his brother. Souther had been many things, but most of all he had been a warrior who believed with his entire being.
He’d fought with his whole heart, and it had cost him his life. Westley had watched him die on that battlefield. One hundred years later, he could still hear the choking sound as his brother, his protector, laid down his life to the gods that never were.
The gods were never going to save them. Even if they lived, what good could they do?
What had Westley done in their name? Horrors upon horrors that he could never shake. Solveig’s screams. Villages drowned.
And for what?
Westley rode Njord straight to the stables, his heart racing as if he had run the whole way. He led Njord to a stall. Helle was already in the one across.
Solveig was here.
His magic surged, sloshing the water in the pails hanging beside each stall. Helle snorted, bringing his attention back to the stable. The water settled as he went over to her, despite Njord’s protest behind him.
The copper mare came forward, eyes alight with unmatched intelligence. Not that he’d ever say that out loud in front of Njord. After hesitating a moment, Helle placed her nose in Westley’s waiting palm.
“Thank you for protecting her,” he whispered.
Helle reared her head in understanding before nudging him with her nose. Westley nodded.
“I promise to keep her safe too,” he vowed to the horse. “Now behave,” he ordered her sternly.
Helle just stared at him with a look so familiar to that of her rider that Westley let out a small chuckle. He patted Helle on the neck and bade Njord goodbye before heading towards the palace, trepidation filling his body.
He was walking to his soul’s execution.
Solveighadbeendescendingthe stairs when movement from the window caught her eyes. Lest he see her, she slipped into the shadows and peered down at the prince walking alone, head held high, towards the palace.
His presence was electric—she’d felt him the moment he’d crossed into the palace boundaries, her magic thrumming in her veins.
Though her barriers were still intact, his presence was like a caress. He looked up as if she had called him, eyes directed at the window she stood beside. She didn’t think he could see her, but he stared intently like he knew she was there. Solveig could read no emotion on his face.
She turned away from him first, releasing them both. Her heart protested, but she used it to fuel her magic. Making her way down to the conference room, she nearly collided with Koa and Aelfsi who were huddled together in a corridor, whispering to each other.
“What are you two up to?” Solveig asked, eyeing them with suspicion.
“That is none of your concern,” Koa replied. Solveig thought it was very much her concern, but she knew they wouldn’t speak of it to her until they were ready. Maybe she was being paranoid.
“They’re here,” she told her mothers.
“Very well, let’s gather,” Aelfsi said, holding her arm out to Koa. Koa grasped it, pulling her wife close as they led the way towards the meeting room.
Solveig thought the queens would have at least given them time to bathe and eat but instead had insisted they convene immediately upon their return.
The prince appeared at the other end of the corridor, his tall muscular frame clothed in thick travelling clothes, hair wind-whipped from the sea and the speed with which he must have ridden on horseback.
His olive eyes glowed with intensity as he drank in the sight of her, gaze sweeping from her head to her feet and back up again, searching for any wounds.
She still walked with a slight limp from the snakebite. Though it had been nearly two weeks since the injury, the venom lingered. His brows furrowed when he caught the stilted movement. A question lingered on the edge of her mental barriers, but she looked away, not letting him in. He took a breath before he entered the room ahead of Solveig and the queens.
Solveig waited outside, allowing the others to go in before her in order to fortify herself. Sten gave her an unreadable look before he went in—a look that was becoming quite frustrating as he couldn’t explain his feelings to her.
He’d mentioned his Sight had been dark since Asgard, but he was still gettingimpressions. What the Hel that meant, she didn’t know. And she couldn’t afford to let anything that wasn’t concrete distract her.
