The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  Freya grinned. “You couldn’t be more correct.”

  Nearly an hour later, after multiple rounds of Commander Balthana banging on Freya’s locked and spelled bedroom door, she emerged with a knapsack slung over one shoulder packed with the few articles of clothing she hadn’t had time to stuff in her trunks.

  Ignoring Ana’s exasperated look and the expression of pure annoyance Balthana wore, Freya strode down the front walk toward the first of two large, black carriages that waited at the street’s edge. Each was pulled by a single black stallion and bore the royal crest on the door. She held her head high as she climbed inside, taking great care to kick her feet on the sill before sitting on the red-cushioned bench. Once settled, Ana stepped up to the door and reached inside, taking Freya’s hands.

  “Be good, Freya,” she said, the warning clear in her tone. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been in the capital and at court. Things change over the years.”

  Freya smiled. “Have you known me to be incapable of adapting?”

  Ana gave her a pointed look, her eyes sliding to the left toward where the commander stood before responding. “Incapable and unwilling are two different things.”

  “I am fully willing to adapt to my imminent change in circumstances. I promise.” She squeezed her aunt’s hands for extra emphasis. “I’ll get all my brattiness out before we’ve reached midway, don’t worry,” she teased.

  “Please see that you do,” Ana said wearily. “Salazar and Ordona are lovely monarchs, but even they have their limits.”

  Leaning out, Freya planted a kiss on Ana’s cheek. “It will all be fine. Try not to worry. I’ll send word when I get there. And, Aunt Ana? Travel safe.”

  “I will, dear. You do the same.”

  “Time to go,” the commander said.

  Smiling reluctantly, Ana stepped away from her. “You be good, Freya,” she said in one last warning. “I’ll see you at Winter Solstice.”

  Balthana pulled himself up inside the carriage and took a seat across from Freya.

  With one last farewell, Ana waved and stepped back from the road.

  Freya took one final look at the house she’d lived in for the last six years, surprised when she found herself struggling against a lump in her throat. Slowly, the carriage pulled away, the tall wheels rattling so loudly on the cobblestone Freya knew better than attempt to sleep on the short trip to the port.

  “You’ll be happy to know I received word from Officer Carinald,” Balthana said. “They located a cadre of draugs in the forest less than an hour ago. The draugs have been destroyed, and the stolen goods are on their way back to their owners.”

  Freya let out a quiet breath, relieved to know she wasn’t leaving the city behind with a mess for the marshals to clean up. “Thank you for the update. I appreciate it.”

  He gave her a curt nod.

  Not wanting to dive into a full conversation just yet, she contented herself with resting her forehead against the cool glass, watching as the rows of familiar houses slipped past, drinking it all in one last time before she left Watoria behind for good.

  Chapter 3

  A short while later, Freya found herself settling into a first-class cabin on the ship leaving Watoria for the capital.

  A small bed covered in lush velvet the color of new spring leaves caught her eye, contrasting with the carpeted floor in deep colors of autumn. With the white-paneled walls, gauzy curtains in shades of sunrise, and touches of gold in the fluffy bedding, the cabin seemed to encompass all five of Lindoroth’s regions in one small space. The beauty of it made Freya feel a bit remorseful about her filthy shoes, so as soon as she sat down on the small bed, she tugged them off and changed them out for her spare boots, ignoring the commander’s smug look as she wrapped her dirty boots in a tunic and shoved them into her bag.

  Satisfied, she slid her bag under the bed and met his stare, jolting slightly when the ship let out a loud creak as it pulled away from the dock and into the Southern Canal, which would take them south through Saith and Edhil, the two southernmost realms of Lindoroth, then east to the capital realm of Iladel.

  “Will I go straight to the academy when we arrive, or do you have any stops planned?” she asked.

  “You’ll be taken straight there,” he told her. “Classes start in four days and you’ll need to get settled in before then.”

  “And what about supplies? Clothes?” She gestured toward the simple nature of her outfit. “As much as I’m loathe to admit it, my current wardrobe isn’t well-suited for the capital, considering. I’d planned to take one last trip to the markets before leaving this afternoon.”

  “All of those things will be provided to you. We’ll arrive in Iladel in two days’ time, so take the third to acquire your supplies and make a trip into Iladel this week to purchase some new clothes. Everything will be billed directly to the capital.”

  Her brows shot up in surprise. “That’s a dangerously long leash to give a girl,” she said, smiling. “What if I find a sudden taste for Errestian jewels? I hear Edhil’s mines have been quite fruitful this year.”

  He gave her a dry look. “Your ‘leash’ consists of clothing, texts, and whatever other supplies the professors at Aldridge require of you. Your roommate will show you the best places to purchase what you need.”

  Freya wrinkled her nose in distaste. “So I’ll have a roommate, then? Have you met her?”

  He nodded. “Grevillea Calliwell. A cousin to Prince Aerilius and daughter of Orin Calliwell, the Governor of Edhil. Her mother is the queen’s sister.”

  Freya gawked. “Grevil—good heavens, is that the name she goes by? Please tell me it’s not!”

  He gave her a warning look. “She goes by Lea. She’s quite lovely.”

  Freya gave a noncommittal hmm, unsure if she was ready to trust the commander’s version of ‘lovely’ just yet. It had been her experience that females who lived in the capital could be lovely in their own way, but that way typically involved a long look down pointed noses at anyone who wasn’t a lifelong Iladelian.

  “A schedule of upcoming events you’ll be required to attend will also be made available, although some final adjustments are still being made.”

  Freya rubbed her fingers across her forehead as a small headache began to form behind her eyes. “What kind of events?”

  “A few dinners, the annual commencement ball, and the Winter Solstice celebration, among others. I would recommend bringing Lea with you when you’re choosing attire for those.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Lea…” Freya couldn’t bring herself to use the poor girl’s proper name. “Should I expect her to act as my shadow, or will she simply be my roommate?”

  “That is entirely dependent on you, although the hope is that you’ll become friends.”

  “And is she aware of who I am?”

  “She is.”

  “Lovely,” Freya murmured.

  He flicked a glance out the small porthole window, then tugged the heavy velvet curtains closed to block out the light. “We’ll be on the water for some time. You might as well get some sleep. My cabin is just down the hall if you need anything.”

  There was a favorable wind behind them as they sailed, so the trip to the capital took just under three days, much of which Freya spent abovedeck talking with the crew, sunning her wings, and generally lazing about. The commander made appearances now and then, but for the most part he was off doing whatever it was he did. He was a curmudgeonly fellow on a good day, so Freya wasn’t overly eager to bask in his company.

  When she awoke on the third day to the steady sound of the sloshing water and the call of gulls, the sun appeared high in the sky, and the flowering fields of the southern realm of Edhil were drifting past outside the porthole beside her bed.

  There was a knock at her door. Groggily, she rolled out of bed and opened it, then greeted the commander with a tired wave.

  “It’s nearly noon,” he said by way of greeting. “You shouldn’t have st
ayed out so late.”

  “The crew wanted to wish me well before the start of term,” she muttered, ignoring his chastising tone as she flopped back down on the bed. “How much longer until we arrive?”

  “About an hour and a half.” He stepped aside as a servant set a pot of coffee and a paper-wrapped sandwich on the bedside table. “We passed through Saith and into Edhil about three hours ago. We’re just outside Errest now, so pack up your things.”

  Once the commander and the servant left the room, she began to eat the sandwich, wincing a bit as the crusty bread scraped against her still-dry throat. The roasted chicken was juicy and flavorful, though, and by the time she was done, she felt more alert and less like she’d been up half the night with the crew members.

  After packing up her belongs and tugging on a pair of soft linen pants and pale blue tunic, she went abovedeck and spent the rest of the time watching the lush scenery of Edhil slide past.

  Her home realm of Allanor consisted largely of grasslands and evergreen-covered mountains dotted through with a few towns, with the largest city being Watoria, the realm’s capital. But where Allanor was full of vivid golds, greens, and reds, the region of Edhil that drifted past now was filled with all color imaginable. Far to the south sat the Edhilian desert, a dry, hot expanse of land that spanned most of the southernmost portion of the continent. The waving grasses appeared greener, the trees taller, and even the sun’s golden glow seemed to glitter a bit brighter.

  The sun was well past its midpoint by the time the captain rang the bell signaling their arrival. As the crew began to prepare to dock, Freya got her first view of the capital, a sight she hadn’t seen in nearly six years.

  The bustling city spread out before her, rising to the foothills that led up to the craggy peaks of the Aldridge Mountains. Five hundred years earlier, the region had been a shared capital between humans and the Linds, a race of shifters and magic-wielders. When a chain of earthquakes shattered their lands and weakened the humans, the Jotnar, a race of witches and warlocks who lived to the north of Lindoroth, had attempted to take the human territories for their own, taking any opportunity to kill, capture, or enslave every human they could find. After nearly a decade at war, the Linds assisted in negotiating a treaty that allowed the humans safe passage to settle on the eastern continent of Dystone, while the Linds and Jotnar divided the western continent.

  Freya cast her eyes upward as the ship slid into the port. From her vantage point, she could just make out the high, sharp turrets of the palace peeking over the lower part of the mountain far in the distance. When the crew dropped anchor and began throwing out ropes to tie down, her attention was drawn down to the busy port, where she saw gray-uniformed guards bearing the official seal of the capital swarming the area.

  “Why are there so many guards?” she asked the commander beside her, lowering her voice to a whisper once they disembarked and stepped onto the aged wooden dock.

  “Guard presence increased last week when students began arriving at Aldridge. Prince Aerilius will be attending Aldridge this year.” Balthana gave her a curious frown. “How do you not know this?”

  Freya’s heart stuttered a bit and her words carried a sharp edge when she responded. “How would I?”

  “Hmm. You received all of your correspondence from Aldridge, correct?”

  “Yes, of course,” Freya replied, hefting her duffel over her shoulder as he began to lead her up the dock toward the roadway.

  The prince had been a good friend of Freya’s in their youth—one of her closest—but time and distance had caused that friendship to wane, and now nearly six years had gone by since they’d last spoken. While she knew she’d see him soon enough, she was surprised to hear she’d see him every day.

  “Well, had you taken the time to read it,” he admonished, “you would’ve received news of the increased guard presence in the capital and on campus due to the attendance of the crown prince.” He didn’t bother looking back at her as they quickly navigated the busy port, his purposeful stride and black uniform parting the crowds like water. A long line had formed at the tall gates that led into the city, all passengers who’d just disembarked, each going through the process of stating their business before being allowed through.

  Freya quickened her pace to keep up with him, ignoring the glares and grumbles of those queued up beside them. The commander stepped through a narrow door cut into the gate, giving a terse nod to the guards as he passed, then held it open for Freya to step through and onto the paved walkway.

  “Why is he attending? That wasn’t—surely he can acquire training of equal measure privately and without all the fuss?” Freya adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “It seems a bit unfair to the rest of the students, wouldn’t you say? Having a prince on campus, attending classes?”

  “Perhaps, although the same could be said for you, considering your background. The assumption, of course, is that he’ll find a mate and choose his queen while he’s there.”

  Freya snorted quietly. “A farce, if I ever heard one. Everyone knows the king and queen will choose his betrothed. Will he be living on campus?”

  The commander gestured toward a black carriage trimmed in gold and bearing the royal crest waiting at the curb. “No, he’ll continue to live at the palace. Come, let’s get you settled in.”

  As was her habit, Freya took in her surroundings as she walked, letting her eyes drift about as she stepped toward the carriage. The city’s tree-lined cobblestone thoroughfare stretched away from the station, the foot and carriage traffic neatly separated by a long, narrow flowerbed that bisected the road that stretched off into the distance. Looking skyward, Freya imagined the pale color of the stone would appear as a long, white ribbon from above, stretching from the port clear across the city before splintering off into the rolling hills beyond.

  “You know,” she commented, turning to face him as he sat down on the bench across from her, “it’s quite unprecedented for the royal commander to be escorting one wayward student to school. Might I ask your reasoning?”

  He gave her a stern look. “The king and queen don’t take kindly to ‘wayward students,’ especially when an invitation to Aldridge has been handed to her personally. As the king, queen, and royal commander are aware of said student’s propensity for flying off, they thought it best she have an escort.”

  “If said parties are so aware of my propensities, they should also know that I wouldn’t shirk my duties simply to spite them.”

  “Certainly, but one can’t blame them for being a bit overcautious.”

  Freya made a face but didn’t argue. Her invitation to Aldridge had been written just after her fifth by the king himself when her status as a true halfblood—a Lind who inherited equal parts witch and shifter blood—became clear around her sixth birthday. In unions like those of Freya’s parents, where one was a shifter and the other a witch or warlock, witch blood always won out. It was incredibly rare for a person to be both shifter and witch, but on the rare occasion a halfblood was born, they were prized, often coveted.

  One morning when her father had taken her down to the training yard to learn with the children who were training to become squires, the king came down to check on the progress of the students. After watching Freya hit archery targets thirty yards away and fling knives made of magic alongside the prince and some of the best squires of the king’s Guard, Salazar had insisted she attend once she came of age. Her parents and aunt had been proud, as had she, but her pride had faded years later, when her mother, a highly-respected witch who worked for the crown, was killed on a routine patrol of the northern border between Caelora and Jotunheim.

  Ever since, her father had become distant, immersing himself in his work and checking in only once or twice a month to ensure both she, the marshals, and her teachers in Watoria were keeping up with her training, continuing to prepare her for life in the Capital. Her aunt Ana had ensured the sums of money left behind when Cina passed were used for housing, food, schoo
ling, and anything else she might have needed.

  “You know, I was under the impression you were eager to attend Aldridge,” Balthana commented, breaking her from her reverie.

  She looked at him. “I was just dragged from my home after patrolling and fighting all night, put on a boat for three days, and now I’m being taken to meet this new best friend that’s being forced on me. It’s not lack of eagerness that has me down, it’s exhaustion and a strong desire to bathe.”

  “Fair enough.” He nodded. “But I trust you’ll keep your thoughts to yourself once you arrive. Get it out of your system now because Headmistress Dyren won’t tolerate it.”

  “Your lack of faith in my ability to simper is appalling.”

  “No one expects you to simper, just to behave.”

  “So long as I get a few hours of sleep before I’m expected to present myself to anyone, I will be the picture of propriety,” she said primly.

  Exasperated, Balthana shook his head. “A lie, if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Chapter 4

  They rode the rest of the way in silence, Freya occupying herself with watching the citizens of Iladel bustle about the city as their carriage rolled along the cobblestone streets. Iladel really was a beautiful place, and despite having been absent for six years, Freya felt a sense of home as they rolled past the people stepping in and out of shops and restaurants. It was nearly three times the size of Watoria and seemed to run at double the pace, but Freya had always enjoyed sinking into the capital’s exuberance as a child. She and her mother had taken many trips into the city, wandering the busy streets and strolling past restaurants and taverns, dressmakers and tailors, florists, jewelers, and art galleries that burst with goods and wares from across the realms. As she and the commander traveled now, apartment buildings and homes rose above the din, and when she turned to look through the rear window, Freya could make out the tops of tall masts of ships docked in Iladel’s port slipping off in the distance.