by Elise Kova
Delicate exploration paid quick dividends as a breathless chorus filled the room when they pulled apart. Neither of them were ready yet, Vhalla realized, to be as intimate as they had once been. But the fact that something was still there, given all that had happened, the fact that he was still capable of wanting her and that her body had not forgotten how to want, it returned to them a level of closeness that had been woefully missing.
For the first time in nearly two weeks, the Emperor and Empress slept peacefully through the night—completely folded in the other’s arms.
CHAPTER 17
Despite knowing the armor’s color and the reasoning behind it, nothing could have prepared Vhalla for the next morning when Aldrik strapped himself into it for the first time. His hair was combed back and his helm had been attached to a saddlebag so that the people could see him on their ride out. Vhalla did the same, following his lead in their departure from the Crossroads.
He was radiant, every bit of the leader Vhalla had always known he could be. He was a seedling that had been transplanted from the dirt in his father’s shade and placed in the sun for the first time. He greeted the assembled masses and waved to merchants and lords alike as the Emperor’s company wound its way out the main road. Vhalla witnessed their people finally seeing what she had known all along: he was born for this.
On their way out of the Crossroads, Fritz had his first opportunity to comment on her armor. “Your symbol changed.” Fritz fingered a corner of the cloth that went down to her waist, somewhere between a cape and a cloak with a slit in the front for mobility. It was fixed by the sun and wings at her collarbone. Vhalla touched the new symbol, the same one that was emblazoned in gold on her back.
“I suppose it did.” Vhalla glanced over to Aldrik. He wore a similar garment, though his only had the sun of the Empire on its back.
“Why?” Fritz mused aloud to no one in particular.
“A second wing, because the Windwalker has been born again,” Aldrik answered. “The whole Imperial sun because she will wear this armor after she has formally become my Empress.”
“No longer cutting it in half and pretending it’s not obvious?” Jax grinned.
Aldrik rolled his eyes.
“He has a point,” Elecia teased her cousin. “It’s unlike you, Aldrik, to have given her something so overtly Imperial.”
Vhalla remained silent through the teasing. It hurt. Her friends didn’t mean for it to. But they didn’t know that her watch, the one Aldrik had given her, was gone forever. Judging from the long look Aldrik gave her, he was thinking much the same.
Then the wind shifted and, with it, her Emperor’s expression.
“This is what is obviously Imperial. It’s a new dawn for us both, and she wears my craftsmanship upon her once more,” Aldrik spoke only for her.
“As I should,” Vhalla replied gently.
They set a good pace through the desert. The East-West Way made an easy path from the Crossroads to Norin, and they once more found themselves spending time in the company of lords and ladies along the way. The further West they went, the stronger the culture of old Mhashan became.
Vhalla was on-edge the first time she saw the Western phoenix with a sword in its talons. No one questioned her decision to ride hard into the next day for the next opportunity for shelter. Like the scar on her shoulder, there were some wounds that could be mostly forgotten day to day, with enough time and healing, but would always be tender when probed.
As summer came early to the desert, Vhalla and Fritz used their magic in tandem to keep them from cooking alive in their armor. Fritz applied thin layers of ice atop the metal, which Vhalla’s winds quickly evaporated. At first, they were wet and windswept. But Vhalla and Fritz managed to get the hang of it enough that soon the five of them were not only kept cool, but they were comfortable as well.
The ride progressed without problem, and they woke before the sun on their final day of their ride into Norin. They’d stayed with one of Aldrik’s distant cousins, sending word ahead to Ophain that they were only a few hours from the city proper. Vhalla had wanted to keep pushing, but Aldrik was insistent that certain conventions must be observed, and their arrival would be one of them.
Normal butterflies were replaced by a whole flock of birds in her stomach as the city began to grow around them. Sunlight sparkled over their recently polished armor, and they had all washed properly at the lord’s home before the final leg of the journey. Elecia was all smiles at the idea of returning home, but Jax had grown quieter and quieter as the days progressed.
The man had reduced himself to nothing more than a silent shadow. The lords and ladies along the route had maintained only the bare minimum of etiquette toward the man. A select few treated him with as much respect as the rest of his noble company. However, there was a moment when the lords and ladies first saw his face, a moment where they had to check their reactions at the sight of him.
All thoughts of Jax’s odd mood vanished like pennons flapping in the wind. Sand changed to a more soil-like consistency, and large palms appeared in the growing density of the city. Norin waited before her.
It was a city unlike any she had ever witnessed before, and it had surely been built by giants. The outer wall of Norin was so tall that Vhalla wondered how they had engineered mechanisms to carry stones that high. The houses within the outer wall were constructed of clay and wood, simple structures packed one atop the other in a mission to rival the wall with their height. Vhalla remembered Master Mohned’s history, and she wondered if this was the place that he had grown up. The thought was quickly accompanied by a pang of sorrow at the fact that her master likely met an untimely demise at the hand of Victor.
The inner wall of Norin separated the squalor of the slums from the working and middle classes. At present, men and women lined the streets in the first section of the city; common folk, lords, ladies, merchants, dignities, and all shades between them encroached on Vhalla and Aldrik’s forward progression. Vhalla would have felt uneasy by the mass had they not been happily crying her name alongside Aldrik’s.
They threw rose pedals from rooftops and sent tongues of flame into the sky. They waved small pennons, all crying for her attention. Men, women, children, all reached for those who had returned from the dead to lead them. Vhalla was thankful for the strong legs of the horse beneath her.
The castle of Norin appeared before them, stretching up in defiance against the sky. In the sunlight, the clay and stone used in the construction seemed to glow scarlet. A red castle that skewered the sky with its flat-topped spires and arched walls. It was set apart from the most affluent section of the city by a wide, dry moat, a single drawbridge spanning the distance.
Vhalla understood how the West had nearly taken a decade to fall.
“My lady.” Aldrik pulled her from her thoughts by offering her his palm.
Vhalla shifted Lightning’s reins into one hand in order to take his hand. In the light of the sun, before all their subjects, the Emperor and future Empress rode together. Vhalla wondered if the people had ever seen the man with a wider smile across his lips.
She doubted it.
A man waited for them at the end of the drawbridge, a man who was the spitting image of Aldrik, plus a few years, gray hairs, and darker skin. The courtyard surrounding the drawbridge entrance was filled to the brim with people, so much so that the newcomers could barely cross. Lord Ophain met them halfway atop his massive War-strider.
“The Emperor Solaris has returned home to the West!” Lord Ophain announced proudly.
“It is my honor to be among so many of my kind once more,” Aldrik replied. Despite being close to each other, they shouted in an attempt for all to hear.
“But you have not come alone.” The lord’s verbal dance for the people’s sake was obvious.
“No.” Aldrik raised their joined hands slightly, putting them on display. Vhalla swallowed any discomfort, reminding herself that this
was now her world and her duty. “I have come with the first Windwalker in nearly a century and a half. She is the hero of the North, a lady of two courts, a woman who has not only saved my life countless times but is one whom I have found to be peerless.”
For being a man who had a reputation for not being well loved, Aldrik had a natural talent for working the people into a frenzy. The cries of the masses nearly deafened her as he rose her hand to his mouth, kissing its back.
“I present to you all the woman I have chosen to be your Empress, the Lady Vhalla Yarl!”
After that, all hope for further announcement was lost as the raves for an Imperial wedding drowned out everything. Lord Ophain said a few more things to Aldrik as they began moving once more, but Vhalla couldn’t hear the words. Her free hand had been lost to the outstretched palms of the people surrounding them. They reached for her as though she was the hope by which their lives depended.
Vhalla would do all she could to not let that hope be in vain.
The cries echoed with them as they started down the drawbridge, finally free to move once more. They steered their mounts toward waiting stable hands, who stood immediately within the castle. Aldrik relinquished her hand for his reins once out of sight of the people, and Vhalla breathed a small sigh of relief at no longer being on display. As proud as she was to be his, there were some feelings that Vhalla knew would take time for her to become accustomed to.
“It is truly good to see you, Uncle,” Aldrik said as he dismounted.
“I prayed to the Mother every day for your safe arrival.” The two men briefly embraced as the horses were led away.
“I did not think I would ever have the opportunity to see you again,” Vhalla said as she dismounted and adjusted the cape about her shoulders.
“I confess, there was a time where I, too, was uncertain.” The lord rested both hands on her shoulders in a familial motion. “But I should have known the Mother would not intertwine two people so carefully, only to deny them.” Ophain released her and moved toward the castle. “Now, there is much to be done.”
“We will need to organize a careful timeline,” Aldrik agreed.
“Indeed, but first,” the lord of the West paused and gave a conspiratorial smile to Vhalla, “there is someone who I think very much wishes to see you.”
Vhalla stared at the lord while she mentally reminded her heart to beat. “Where is he?”
“Just up the stairs to the right when you first enter. We’ll all go together.”
She couldn’t wait. Vhalla bounded away as fast as her feet could carry her. Her heart pounded, and she felt dizzy. Every feeling that she had suppressed about her father traveling alone to Norin came rushing to her all at once. She prayed she hadn’t misunderstood the lord’s unspoken meaning about who waited to see her.
Vhalla skidded to a stop at the wide open doors to a parlor. They framed a man who stood looking out over the window at the city below. The trellised glass perfectly framed the street she had just rode upon.
Her father’s Eastern hair and complexion looked odd in the bright colors of Western fashions. She’d never seen him in a vest before, and it fit him so well that it nearly took years off his appearance. The man turned at the sound of the panting woman.
“Papa!” Vhalla cried.
“Little bird.” He didn’t quite share the same shock at her existence as she did for his.
Rex Yarl opened his arms and accepted his daughter—windswept, sun-kissed, sandy, armored—into his embrace. Vhalla held him fiercely, her face pressed into his shoulder. She hugged him as though he would disappear the moment she let go, like nothing more than a wishful illusion.
But he was still there as her arms finally slackened and Vhalla took a step away. Vhalla studied him carefully, looking for the smallest thing amiss. But her father was as he’d always been. Sun-leathered, burnished skin folded around his gentle smile.
“You made it.” She beamed from ear to ear. “You made it before the gate. You’re here, in Norin!”
“Did you ever doubt me?” Rex said with mock offense.
“Of course not.” Vhalla shook her head and allowed herself to fully believe her own half-truth. “How long ago did you arrive?”
“Not too long before you.” He motioned to a large recessed area before the hearth. “I hoped to be a pleasant surprise.”
Vhalla took in the room for the first time. The hearths were decorated in mosaic tile and precious gems that went from floor to ceiling and lined the bottoms of the wooden beams that broke up the clay ceiling. The floors were wooden and stained a deep red. Their polish picked up the silver accents throughout the space.
“Papa, you’re limping!” Her attention was quickly restored to her father the moment they started for the sitting area.
“It’s nothing.”
“What happened?” Vhalla asked, concern lacing every word as she unnecessarily helped her father sit.
“Oh, I was clumsy.” He laughed the laugh she so loved. “I made it all the way to Norin without problem only to slip on some stairs and bend my ankle oddly.”
Vhalla rolled her eyes and collapsed down next to him. She avoided the lush fabrics of the pillows and blankets in the sitting space and instead chose the hard wood around it. Her armor was likely to snag on fine fabric and her boots would grind in dust so fine it would be impossible to get out.
“You should be more careful,” she scolded, starting on the clips of her cape. “What if you really hurt yourself? You would’ve had me worrying the whole time while I was here.”
“And the last thing I want you doing is worrying during your wedding,” her father interjected.
Vhalla paused and time stopped. Her father had known about her and Aldrik in the East. But something had changed; the way he looked at her now was completely different from any gaze her father had given her before.
Rex picked up her discarded cape thoughtfully. His fingers ran over the emblem of the sun reverently even as he folded it. Her father, the soldier, he’d been the one to instill in her the deep concern and reverence for their Empire and those who stood as its figureheads. Now she had become a person her father would always look to.
It was an odd reversal from the man whom Vhalla had always admired.
“You looked like an Empress out there, little bird.” There was a note in her father’s voice that made Vhalla’s heart want to break.
“It was what she was born to do,” a voice as dark as midnight slid across the room in agreement.
Vhalla turned. Aldrik and Ophain had finally caught up. Elecia was in their company as well and stood beside a woman Vhalla assumed easily was Elecia’s mother. The woman had the exact same rich shade of darkened skin and beautifully curled hair that seemed to defy gravity in its brilliance.
Bringing up the last of the nobility were two more women. They both had straight dark hair and piercing black eyes. One was shorter and carried a little more weight on her form. She wore her hair cut at the shoulders with a side-swept fringe. The other was tall, but sturdy—much like Aldrik’s build—and had a long thick braid running down her back. Vhalla knew who they were without the need for introduction. Their high cheekbones and thin lips marked them of the Ci’Dan stock. Aldrik’s aunts.
“Let me help you.” Aldrik sat next to Vhalla as the rest of the company assumed places around the perimeter of the sitting area before the hearth. His fingers deftly reached for the clips that were in hard to reach places, allowing Vhalla to shed her metal skin.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Yarl,” Elecia’s mother said, breaking the short silence on behalf of the group.
“Likewise, Lady . . .”
“Ioine,” the woman finished for her with a bright smile. “Though no title is necessary.”
“Then I must ask the same, just Vhalla.”
“Are you certain?” The woman had an easy elegance about her. It was quickly apparent who Elecia modeled herself
after.
“Of course. We are to be family.” Vhalla put the matter to rest with that simple truth.
“Family, indeed,” added the woman with the braid, as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Vhalla struggled to assess if the motion was hostile, skeptical, or merely curious. “I apologize; I’ve not yet caught your names.”
“Tina.”
“I am Lilo.” The younger woman smiled wide enough to make up for her sister’s blank expression.
“An honor to meet you both.” Vhalla gave a small nod of her head in respect. It didn’t matter that she would be the Empress in a short turn of the moon. These women were Western princesses. They had been commanding respect for decades before Vhalla was even alive.
“We have heard much about you.” Tina was as expressionless as Aldrik was when Vhalla had first met him.
“I can only imagine.” Vhalla didn’t let her voice waver. The woman was trying to intimidate her, and Vhalla was determined to disappoint her in that endeavor.
“There is good reason why the West has not had much surprise regarding your betrothal,” Tina spoke as castle help entered the room to serve dark Western tea and rice pressed into shapes. “The Western court has been rampant with talk over the woman who not only earned the first crimson proclamation in years but also earned the prince’s heart.
“And then,” she continued. “It was rampant with the Knights of Jadar howling foul against that same woman. Crying wrongs against them. You can see how it could be difficult to know what to think.”
“Actually, I cannot.” The woman arched a dark eyebrow at Vhalla’s remark. “I would think that you should know exactly what to think of anyone who displeased the Knights of Jadar. Those who have so wrongfully cast aside your noble lineage in exchange for madness and fools’ missions.”
The corners of Tina’s mouth tensed briefly. Vhalla would have missed it had she not just spent years of her life breaking down the subtle mannerisms of the most private man in the Empire. Acceptance flashed across her face as she reveled in the momentary amusement Vhalla had provided her.