by S. T. Bende
“Mm-hmm. And what was his message?” Maja asked.
“I . . .” Vanessa’s eyes clouded over. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Viggo pressed.
“I don’t remember what Bjorn’s message was . . . or if I even heard it. The next thing I remember is prepping the trays for room delivery.” Vanessa bit down on her bottom lip. “Why? Is Bjorn in some kind of trouble?”
I studied Vanessa carefully as she wrung her fingertips together and raked her lip between her teeth. If she was acting, she was awfully good at it. “You really don’t remember anything about the message? What did the old man do after he delivered it to you?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” Vanessa frowned. “Now that I think on it, I don’t even remember what he looked like. Only that he was old.”
Maja leaned back in her chair. “So, you want us to believe that you met a man whose features you can’t remember, and received a message, the details of which you can’t recall?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Vanessa apologized. “But it’s the truth. Is Bjorn all right? If he was hurt, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“We don’t know anything about Bjorn,” I answered. “Though it wouldn’t be a bad idea to question him, too.”
“On it.” Viggo typed on his com.
“Are you sure you can’t remember anything about the old man?” Maja pressed. “Think hard.”
Vanessa’s features scrunched up. She was quiet for a half minute before she finally shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Maja placed her palms flat on the table. She tilted her head, appraising Vanessa with her silent stare.
“I promise I’m not lying,” Vanessa whispered.
“I know you’re not. Quiet.” Maja continued her stare down.
I’d been on the receiving end of Maja’s scrutiny, and I knew how uncomfortable it could be. But this was next-level intense.
To her credit, Vanessa remained still until Maja finally released her from her eye-lock.
“He’s old, but he has his faculties about him,” Maja announced. “He moves swiftly for his age, and speaks with authority. He’s likely someone in a position of great power, wherever he’s from. But he’s desperate. His energy reads as dark, which means he’s likely from Muspelheim, Jotunheim or Svartalfheim.”
“Or Helheim,” Viggo added.
“Helheim’s curse precludes off-world travel.” Maja waved her hand. “Only Hel herself can authorize release, and that’s practically unheard of.”
I stared at Maja. “Did you get all that just by scanning her?”
“That,” Maja confirmed, “and more. Vanessa, you value your position in this household. You take pride in your work, and you would never knowingly betray the crown.”
“Never,” Vanessa said vehemently.
“You are dismissed.” Maja turned to me. “Unless you have further questions?”
“Uh . . .” I caught Viggo’s eye. He shook his head, and I turned to Vanessa. “Thank you for your time, Vanessa.”
The girl looked up at Idris. “Am I in trouble?”
“No,” Idris said kindly. “I appreciate you being honest with us. And I appreciate your service to this household. My parents and I adore your scones.”
Vanessa’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Crown Princess.”
Idris raised her hand, and one of the guards stepped forward to escort Vanessa from the room. The girl bowed at the door before darting outside with a heavy exhale.
“Well, that was interesting.” Idris turned to Maja. “You’re a reader?”
“I can read energies, if that’s what you mean.” Maja shrugged. “There never was a message from the boyfriend. The old man just wanted to hold her attention long enough to entrance her. Once she was under, he intended to run a retinal scan so he could replicate her key to the castle.”
“So he did want to make a copy of her eyeball?” My stomach churned. “Ew.”
“You’re telling me.” Idris shuddered.
“No, it’s good information.” Viggo leaned forward on his elbows. “The fact that he didn’t get the access he wanted means he must need a fair amount of time to run that retinal scan—time he didn’t get, since he was interrupted. And since an eye scan was his goal, it also means he doesn’t know about the secondary scan—the crystal-lock thing Finna and Jande worked out. Have you implemented that policy yet?”
“We only just got the briefing.” Idris drummed her pink fingernails atop the table. “We’ve barely had time to match crystals to our senior officials—those with the highest security clearance.”
“It’s better than nothing, but you’ll need to move faster.” Viggo glanced at me. “Finna and Jande offered to come and help make the matches. In light of today’s breach, I’d advise you to call in any reinforcements you have available—including our team, if you want them. We’re at your disposal.”
Idris nodded. “I’ll reach out to our scientists, and see what kind of assistance they need. I’m sure they’d be grateful for your friends’ help.”
“In the meantime, we need to make a list of everyone who knows Vanessa’s morning routine. And of everyone who knows about her relationship with that guy. The specter hasn’t been able to breach the castle yet, but he did know what to say to Vanessa to get her to talk to him. Which means he’s either a mind reader—and those are rare in the dark realms—or he has someone on the inside giving him information on personnel. Things like schedules, relationships—you get the idea.”
“If he has someone on the inside, why don’t they just let him in the castle?” I asked. “Why would he have bothered using Vanessa?”
“Maybe they don’t have the level of clearance he needs.” Viggo stroked his jaw. “The bakers have access to the private residences, don’t they? So they can make deliveries?”
“They do,” Idris confirmed. “My gods, do you think this specter was trying to get to one of the residents?”
“I have no idea,” Viggo said grimly. “Can you think of anyone who has a bone to pick with your family? Or with anyone else living in the castle?”
Idris’ eyes widened. “Are you thinking someone betrayed us?”
“I’m saying that somebody’s passing intel to this specter. The briefing said your last breach targeted a young staff member too—another girl with access to the residences, if I’m correct.”
“Yes,” Idris whispered.
“He’s trying to get to someone who lives in the castle,” Viggo concluded. “The question is, who?”
“And why?” I fingered the end of my braid. “What’s his end game?”
“We won’t know without more interviews.” Maja turned to Idris. “Draw up a list of everyone you’ve fired, transferred, or passed up for a promotion in the past year and a half. I’ll scan each of them remotely, and we can bring in anyone who reads as suspicious. We’ve only got three days, so we’d better get moving.”
Idris pressed her fingertips to her data pad. It glowed to life, and she began typing. “I’m looping Narissia in,” she explained. “She’s more familiar with the dynamics of the staff than I am.”
“Are you sure you can trust her?” Maja asked.
“With my life,” Idris said confidently. “She’s been with our family since before I was born. She’d never betray us.”
“Someone’s working against you.” Maja stared at the ceiling. “And until we figure out who, it’s best to keep things close to the vest.”
“Meaning?” Idris asked.
My eyes met Viggo’s, concern coursing between us.
“Meaning you are to trust no one,” Maja said firmly. “And keep your guards around you at all times. Somebody wants inside this castle. And until we figure out why, we’re all at risk.”
We spent the rest of the day finalizing our list of potential traitors. We broke for dinner with Idris’ parents, donning our traditional costumes for the white-gloved table service that apparently was the norm for
the royal family’s end-of-week meal. Back on Midgard, Friday night had been pizza and movie night for Elin, Larkin, Signy and I. I guessed every family had their own traditions.
After dinner, we’d issued summons to our shortlist of interrogees. They were to appear in the conference room at twenty-minute intervals starting at nine o’clock on Saturday morning. Hopefully, we’d get a few leads out of all of this . . . or better yet, an answer. Who was helping the specter?
My feet felt like lead as we trudged back to our suite. Idris left us at our door, yawning as she walked to her own suite at the end of the hallway. I followed Maja inside, struggling to keep my eyelids open with each sluggish step. Despite my physical exhaustion, my mind buzzed with energy . . . and questions. So many questions. By the time Viggo closed the door behind us, Maja was already in her room.
“You want a hot chocolate?” I called after her.
“I want to sleep,” she called back. “Good night.”
“Night!” I moved into the little kitchen, and turned to Viggo. “Cocoa?”
“Why not?” He sat at one of the stools that lined the granite countertop. “Man, what a day, huh?”
“Tell me about it.” I rummaged around until I’d found a pan, milk, and cocoa powder. I flicked the lighter on the stove, measured out two servings of milk, and poured them in the pan to simmer. As it heated, I pulled mugs from the cupboards, and set them on the counter. “Tomorrow we get to interrogate unsuspecting staff.”
“Yeah, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, we appreciate being in a brand-new place . . . and we take in that amazing view.” He pointed toward the window. The moon was so full, it easily took up a quarter of the frame. And the stars were so abundant, the sky was equal parts black and blinding white. I stared at the scene, mesmerized, until the bubbling milk rumbled.
“Oops.” I pulled the pan from the burner, and stirred in a generous amount of cocoa powder. Then I filled two mugs, handed one to Viggo, and walked into the sitting area. “Couches?”
“Sure.”
Viggo dropped onto the one facing the window, and patted the cushion next to him. “Come here, Glitre.”
Careful not to spill my drink, I nestled in beside my boyfriend. I tucked my feet underneath me, and leaned into his side. “Have you ever seen that many stars?”
“Definitely not.” Viggo draped his arm around my shoulders. “I thought we had it good on Alfheim, but this is next level.”
“Seriously.” I sipped my cocoa, letting the river of chocolate slide down my throat. So good.
“How are you doing with everything?” Viggo asked.
“I’m not loving that there was a break-in right before we got here,” I admitted. “If the specter had breached the castle, and gotten to this wing . . . and if he’d planted a bomb, or a bug, or . . .”
“We’re safe.” Viggo ran his thumb along the back of my neck. “But the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better.”
“Agreed.”
We drank in silence for the next few minutes. When we’d drained our mugs, we set them on the glass table. Viggo swung his long legs up on the couch, and motioned for me to curl up against him. I rested my cheek on his chest, and let the day’s stresses melt away as he set his palm against the small of my back. Mmm.
“The circumstances aren’t great, but I’m still glad we’re here,” I admitted. “It’s been so tense back home, with everyone trying to learn their new roles on the cabinet, and graduation coming, and finals, and . . .” My voice dropped to a whisper. “. . . my coronation.”
“Yeah.” Viggo nestled his chin on the top of my head. “You have a lot on your plate right now.”
“You do too,” I offered. “All of those things affect you.”
“Yeah, but not in the same way. The role of ruler doesn’t fall on my shoulders. I’m just here to support you.”
“But it will someday,” I countered. “You know, because we’re . . .”
“Mated.” I heard Viggo smile over the word. “Saying it out loud doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it. You know that, right?”
“Maybe.”
We didn’t talk about our mate marks often. Viggo knew they scared me—the irrefutable permeance of the Norn’s wing tattoos that decreed us a perfekt match. After the initial shock had worn off, he’d taken the revelation in his stride. Whereas I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of having a predestined mate . . . even one who was clearly a solid partner.
Viggo shifted, leaning his head so he could look me in the eyes. “Things are changing, though. We should probably start thinking about what we want our next chapter to look like.”
“Can’t it just stay like this?” I begged. “Simple, and direct, and uncomplicated?”
“It can be whatever we choose to make it,” Viggo said easily. “It’s you and me. Always. Nobody gets to make the rules but us.”
Breath rushed from my lungs. “Good.”
“But things outside of you and me are changing. You’re going to be queen. I’m your minister of defense. We’re going to be Verge Keys together. We’ll have new residences, new jobs, new responsibilities.” Viggo stroked my hair. “It’s all coming at us.”
“I know.” I worried my bottom lip. “How do we navigate all of that without losing ourselves in the process?”
Viggo used his thumb to free my lip from my teeth. “Same way we always have, I guess. We take it one day at a time.”
“And we promise to talk through whatever life throws at us,” I added. “No matter how stressful it gets, we need to always have each other’s backs.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
I angled my chin up to brush my lips against his. Viggo deepened the kiss, quickening my pulse and leaving me lightheaded. But all too soon he pulled away, and exhaustion once again overtook me.
“You need to get to bed,” Viggo said huskily.
“One more minute like this.” I nestled my cheek to his chest and let my eyelids drift closed. “Just. One. Minute . . .”
Chapter 7
THE NEXT DAY STARTED with a literal bang. I awoke with a jolt, bolting upright and scanning the room to identify the sound’s source. Our suite’s living area glowed with the dim light of dawn, muted pink sunbeams filtering through the window wall. Viggo remained sprawled on the couch, one inky black wave hanging over his forehead, and his arm flung over his eyes. The rest of the room was still, which meant I’d either dreamed the noise or—
A second bang pulled my attention to the kitchenette.
I climbed over Viggo and dropped into a fighting stance. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, you idiot.” A disheveled head peeked over the counter.
“Maja?” I lowered my fists. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make coffee. But this kitchen’s an organizational nightmare.” She stacked two frying pans—apparently the source of the noise—onto the countertop.
I glanced at Viggo, who’d rolled onto his side. Heat flooded my neck as I realized we’d fallen asleep on the couch . . . and that Maja was there to witness my walk of shame. Well, semi-shame. Nothing had happened—our exhaustion had seen to that.
“Here. Let me help you.” I padded into the kitchen, and put two small pots on the stove. I measured milk into one, and water into the other. Then I rummaged through the cabinets for ground coffee beans, and cocoa powder. “I’ve never made coffee like this—Signy had a coffee-maker back on Midgard. But there’s probably some kind of a strainer or press in one of the cabinets—check up there and I’ll get the mugs.”
Maja peered into the cabinet over the sink. “Is this a strainer?”
I turned around. “Yes, but for pasta. Have you never made coffee before?”
“We do it differently in the colony.” Maja pulled out a steamer. “This?”
“Nope.” I set three mugs on the counter, and nudged Maja out of the way. I peered into the cabinet, and extracted what looked like a high-tech French press. “This sh
ould work.”
“Oh.”
“So how do you guys do it?” I asked.
“We’re a colony of älva.” Maja shrugged. “We do a lot of things by magic.”
Right.
While I finished making our drinks, Maja leaned against the counter. “So. What’s the deal with you two?”
“Huh?” I turned my head to find her looking at Viggo. “Oh. Uh . . .”
“You’re bright red.”
“Shut up!”
Something that looked suspiciously like a smile played at Maja’s lips. “Fine. I won’t embarrass you. Much.”
“Just take your coffee.” I thrust the mug at her.
“Thanks.” She raised her drink to her lips. “Just so you know, he’s really into you.”
“I know.” I hid behind my cocoa.
“He’d do anything to protect you. And he’s completely devoted to you, though he knows you have to be the one to set the pace in your relationship. What exactly is it about him that scares you?”
“I never said he scares me. Hey, are you scanning me?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Maybe.” Maja sipped her coffee. “You brought me here to evaluate threats. The psyche of the queen could be a big one.”
“Well my psyche is threat free, thank you very much. And for your information, I’m not scared of Viggo. I’m scared of being locked into a lifetime partnership because of some wing tattoos I didn’t choose to get.”
“Excuse me?” Maja’s brows arched.
“Viggo and I are mates—the Norns chose us for each other before we were born, and marked us with these so we’d know once we found each other.” I shifted my cocoa to one hand and reached up with the other to tweak the tip of my wing. “They weren’t wrong—Viggo’s an awesome teammate, and I know he’s going to make a great co-Verge Key. But . . .”
“But?” Maja prompted.
“But normal teenagers get to date. They don’t just know the first guy they ever looked twice at is the guy who’s going to be their future husband . . . and their realm’s king consort.”