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The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

Page 11

by Lucy Roy


  “Goodbye to you, too,” she muttered.

  Once they’d both bathed and changed, Freya and Lea made their way to the front gates where Lea said a carriage would be waiting to take them into Iladel for a few hours of shopping and dinner. As they traversed the grassy lawn toward Aldridge’s entrance, she walked with bated breath, hoping the Headmistress and her blasted father had forgotten their decision to attach guards to her when she left the university’s grounds.

  When they arrived at the gates, her fears were realized. There, next to the carriage, were two officers, clad in their spotless, navy blue uniforms.

  “Oh, just ignore them,” Lea told her. “That’s what I always do.”

  “Is one yours, then?” Freya asked, narrowing her eyes at the motionless guards.

  “Iska, there on the right. He’s been my shadow for, what’s it been, fifteen years, Iska?”

  The tall, brown-haired guard gave a small nod. “Give or take, Lady Calliwell.”

  Lea sighed and shook her head, then looked back at Freya. “The fool refuses to address me by my given name, no matter how many times I order it.”

  As Lea and Freya approached the carriage, the second guard stepped forward, an amber-skinned male with black hair that fell in waves to his shoulders.

  “Lady Balthana, my name is Rissen.” He gave a small bow. “I’ve been assigned by the commander as your personal guard.”

  “Hello, Rissen.” Freya gave him a tight smile. “I don’t suppose I could offer you a few hundred of the commander’s sils to busy yourself elsewhere, could I?”

  Lea snorted as Rissen gave her an apologetic look.

  “I apologize, Lady, but that would be highly improper.”

  “Yes, I suppose it would.” Freya narrowed her eyes. “You can’t fly, can you? All I smell on you is wolf.”

  He smiled easily. “I’ve been given explicit instructions not to answer that question.”

  Mentally, she cursed her father. “Alright, then. Let’s get to it.”

  After boarding the carriage, their guards situated on the rear rumble-seat, Lea immediately began listing the places they were going to visit.

  “First, the dressmaker. You’ll need to be measured for a gown for the Commencement Ball next week, and Kallan will need at least half that time to design and make it for you. He’ll help us acquire accessories and shoes to complement it, of course. He’ll also be able to provide something perfect for dinner tomorrow. Even though it’s somewhat casual, we’ll still go with dresses. Lighter, maybe something a bit floral? Then afterward, there’s a lovely jewelry shop I always love to visit.”

  Freya made a face. “I’ve never been too big on florals, to be quite honest. Between the pattern and my hair, my appearance tends to lean toward garish.”

  “Oh, that’s highly unlikely. Regardless, something that’s reminiscent of the king’s Saithian heritage will be most appropriate.” She eyed Freya’s hair curiously. “Since you were able to glamour your hair to appear brown, would you consider changing the color to match an outfit?”

  “I think I’ve had about enough of glamours for the time being, honestly, and Byrric would give me more grief for it than it’s worth.”

  Lea nodded. “Alright, then we’ll make sure to find something to complement your natural color.”

  “So, where will we eat?” Freya asked, shifting so she was facing Lea a bit better. “I was far pickier the last time I dined in the capital, so I’m eager to see what’s available.”

  “There’s a small restaurant that features cuisine from each of the realms,” Lea said. “I dine there at least once any time my family would come for a visit. I’d love to show it to you.”

  Freya grinned as her stomach rumbled. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Oh, Lea, that looks fabulous on you!” Freya gushed as she watched her friend get fitted for a flowing, turquoise gown. Kallan, a flame-haired warlock who hardly came to Freya’s shoulder, had been fussing over her for the past hour, using his sorcery to design patterns and beadwork that perfectly accented Lea’s body shape and coloring.

  “Lady Calliwell has always been one of my easiest customers,” the small male said as he twisted a bit of gossamer fabric around Lea’s hips.

  “Oh, you shush!” Lea said, laughing. “Wait until you get Lady Balthana up here.”

  Kallan sniffed. “Lady Calliwell, your level of modesty is unbecoming. Embrace your beauty, my dear.” He brushed a hand down her side, over the dip of her waist, then stepped back, watching with a small smile as a glimmering sunburst of color appeared, a cluster of yellow beads fanning across her torso, shifting seamlessly to shades of green, then blue.

  “There,” he said, clasping his hands in front of his chin and nodding in satisfaction. “Yes, I think that will do quite nicely for the Commencement Ball. The green and blue will be mixed with Edhilian emeralds and sapphires, of course, and their canary sunstones have been all the rage this season.” He looked up at Lea, an eager expression on his face. “Well?”

  Lea bit her lip as she stared at herself in the mirror. She brushed a hand over her hip, gently touching the illusion of beadwork that highlighted her hourglass figure. “It’s quite lovely, Kallan. I dare say you’ve outdone yourself.”

  “I think it’s perfect,” Freya agreed. “The colors look beautiful on you.”

  Lea narrowed her eyes at her reflection. “Yes, this will work perfectly.”

  Kallan laughed. “Indeed.” He gestured for her to step down. The dress faded away as she took a step off the pedestal, leaving her in just her undergarments as the design transferred onto a plain piece of parchment that sat on a small table. “Go on, get dressed. Lady Balthana?” He smiled at Freya as Lea disappeared behind a curtain to redress. “Up you go.”

  Freya slipped out of the thin robe she’d donned when they arrived, leaving her in just her undergarments, then allowed Kallan to help her onto the pedestal.

  “It’s been nearly six years since I’ve had to acquire this type of finery,” she told Kallan. “And fashion in Watoria… I’m not quite sure what I should be looking for.”

  “Yes, they go for function over form, from what I hear,” Kallan finished, nodding. “Not to worry, my dear. You’re in good hands.” Stepping back, he tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. “That hair does limit us a bit, especially if we’re attempting to emulate the realm of Saith…” He pursed his lips as he scanned her, head to toe. “Something to add the illusion of curves, certainly.”

  Freya arched a brow at his bluntness. She’d never been opposed to her narrow hips and average chest—it was far easier to find ready-made leathers that fit with a figure like hers—but it surprised her a bit to hear someone else say it so blithely.

  “What about something with a bit of cinching at the waist?” she suggested.

  Frowning in thought, he nodded. “Yes, with heavy beading on top to draw the eye. Now for color…”

  Freya glanced over at Lea, who’d just stepped out of the dressing room.

  “Any luck?” Lea asked.

  “I’m in need of some curves, according to Kallan,” Freya said dryly.

  “Oh, please! Kallan, let’s not discourage the girl so soon!”

  “Well, I won’t design my dresses for features that don’t exist,” he replied, clearly exasperated. “Now shush, both of you, and let me think.” He circled Freya, taking in each aspect of her figure. “Alright, I’ve got something.” With a wave of his hand, magic washed over her, prickling her exposed skin as a strapless peach gown began to form, fitting tight around her chest and ribs before flowing out into layers of gossamer that fell to her calves. He spent several minutes tapping her waist, where wisps of pink, the same color as her hair, appeared to weave themselves into the layers of her skirt, shifting in depth as she turned this way and that. After a moment, he made a small “hmm” noise and a burst of rosestones mixed with emeralds swirled across the upper part of the bodice. A dusting of diamond crystals began to glitter thr
oughout the skirt.

  When the dress finished materializing, Kallan stepped back and nodded. “Yes, that will do nicely, don’t you think?”

  Freya twisted her hips back and forth, smiling softly as the shades of peach and pink shifted with her movements. The beadwork glittered, highlighting the streaks of pink in her chestnut hair without making them seem garish.

  “I think it’s perfect,” she said, grinning. She sent an expectant look at Lea. “Now, let’s see about some shoes, shall we?”

  “A bit overdone for a simple dinner, if you ask me.”

  Freya spun toward the door, then bit back a curse when she saw Aerelius standing in the archway, hip resting against the frame, a crooked smile on his lips.

  “Oh, look, it’s my cousin,” Lea sighed. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  He gave her a nod of greeting as Kallan gave the prince a low bow.

  “Your Highness. If you’re in need of a fitting, I’m just about finished with Lady Balthana.”

  “Not to worry, Kallan. Since tomorrow will be Lady Balthana’s first dinner with our monarchs in quite some time, I thought I might come offer my expertise in the area.”

  Freya’s lips quirked in amusement. “You’re an expert in women’s fashion now, Highness? Things have changed in my absence, haven’t they?”

  Lea snorted out a quiet laugh. “You’d be surprised at what an eye for fashion my cousin has, Freya. Come, Kallan, take me to the shoe section.”

  The dressmaker hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Freya and the prince before nodding at Lea. “Of course, Lady Calliwell. I’ve got a lovely pair in mind.”

  When they were gone, Freya gave Aer an exasperated look. “This is for the ball,” she said, gesturing needlessly toward the dress. “We haven’t gotten to dinner attire yet.”

  Aer nodded thoughtfully. “I assumed as much. This looks lovely on you, though. I can’t quite make out the beadwork,” he said with a sly grin. “Would you mind coming closer?”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “The moment I step off this pedestal, Kallan’s magic fades and I’ll be left in my undergarments. A noble effort, however, if not a bit childish.”

  Sliding his hands in the pocket of his gray pants, he sauntered toward her, his eyes teasing. “I don’t suppose you’ll save me a dance?”

  She huffed out a small breath. “Have you only come to offer your judgement? I’d like to get Kallan back in so he can finish up.”

  “In a moment.” He twirled his finger. “Turn around, please. Face the mirror.”

  “Why?”

  He frowned. “Because I’m your prince and I asked you to?”

  She gave him a withering look. “Why?”

  He stepped up on the pedestal, putting himself within inches of her. “Lady Balthana, will you please turn around?”

  Freya had to crane her neck to look up at him, as he stood nearly a head taller. She held his eyes for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden proximity. His eyes didn’t flicker with mischief like they had in training yard; instead, they seemed to reflect the uncertainty she felt inside, questioning whether it was alright to come into her space.

  “How do you plan to wear your hair?” he asked, twirling a strand around his finger before letting it fall to her shoulder.

  Freya swallowed hard, then turned to face the mirror. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  He made a small hum in the back of his throat. “Up off your neck will show off the beadwork nicely.” Then, grinning, he rested his cheek against hers and met her eyes in the mirror. “Do you recall that summer when you taught me how to put twists in your hair?”

  “If you’re referring to the time you braided a dead garter snake through my hair, yes, I remember that quite clearly,” she said dryly.

  He chuckled, then gave a lock of her hair a gentle flick, to which she sent an elbow into his stomach that he deftly dodged. “After your show in Combat, I’d say you’ve gotten your retribution.”

  “Hardly. You pulled just as many tricks as me.” She spun and jabbed a finger into his chest and glared up at him. “We were sparring! I should’ve known about your powers beforehand!”

  He grabbed her hand, immobilizing it before she could poke him again. “Now you know.”

  She pulled her hand away. “Why are you really here, Aer? Do you find me incapable of presenting myself to the king and queen in a manner suiting my station?”

  “You were quite the barbarian in Combat,” he mused. “You tell me.” He stepped off the pedestal and walked toward one of the clothing racks that Kallan had filled to bursting, then ran his hand along the fabrics. Idly, he began to sift through the rack in front of him.

  “Perhaps someone should have ordered my father not to train me so well, then,” Freya suggested, smoothing a hand over the bodice of her dress, admiring the beadwork in the mirror.

  Aerelius stopped and looked at her as though the mere thought was insane. Which, she supposed, was fair. No child of Cina Enrieth and Byrric Balthana would have gone untrained, even if she ended up going her entire life untested.

  Freya watched the prince with mild interest as he began to pull items from the rack.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked.

  “Perhaps.” He handed her two hangers. “Here. These should work.”

  With a frown, she took the garments and looked them over. He’d chosen a short sleeveless dress in silk the color of seafoam embroidered with thin gold thread. Golden vines snaked up the sides that matched the shimmering leggings he’d handed her perfectly. She nearly growled when she realized they were the exact items she’d been eyeing not an hour earlier.

  “You’ve got quite the eye,” she said quietly, turning the dress around to examine its design more closely.

  “What are friends for, if not to help with fashion choices?”

  “Are we all decent in here?” Lea called from just outside the door.

  “Not remotely!” Aer called back, laughing when Freya threw the gold leggings at him.

  “Bastard,” she muttered.

  “I could have you tossed in the dungeon for such disrespect,” he said, his voice still tinged with laughter.

  “I’d love to see you try, cousin,” Lea said airily as she walked in. “Our Lady Freya would be in the skies before you got hands on her. And that’s not even considering what I might do.”

  Freya gave him a small shrug. “She isn’t wrong.”

  Kallan cleared his throat, reminding them all of his presence.

  “Lady Balthana, have you chosen something for dinner?” He gestured toward the dress that was still in her hand.

  “I did. If you wouldn’t mind getting me out of this dress, I’ll try them on.” She sent a pointed look at Aerelius. “If you’ll excuse us?”

  “You’d ask me to leave after I just chose such a lovely ensemble?” Aerelius put a hand over his heart in feigned insult. “You wound me.”

  “Out!” Lea yelled, tossing a slipper at him, which he narrowly ducked. “Before I sic Freya on you!”

  “Will you two please stop throwing things at me?” he exclaimed.

  Freya gave Aerelius a bright smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Aer.”

  He scowled at her. “And I think I’ll see about finding you a new roommate, Valkyrie. Grevillea is clearly a terrible influence.”

  Kallan, who was becoming noticeably uncomfortable, cleared his throat again, this time a bit louder. “If Your Highness wouldn’t mind… it might be easier to arrange the ladies’ outfits without any distractions.”

  “I suppose I see the sense in that,” Aerelius replied. “Ladies, until tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Aer?” Freya called, just as she was about to step down from the pedestal. She crooked a finger toward him.

  Smiling, he walked toward her, stopping just inches from where she stood. “Yes?”

  She let her eyes run over his face, cataloging his features for a moment, then wrapped her fingers in the collar of his shirt
and tugged his face toward hers. “If you try to take Lea away from me,” she whispered, “I’ll make sure the next feather I aim at your throat is filled with venom.”

  Gently, he disentangled her fingers from his shirt, then kissed the back of her hand and sighed. “Oh, Freya. How I’ve missed you.”

  Chapter 13

  The better part of the following day was spent preparing for dinner at the palace. Lea and Freya’s purchases had been delivered that morning, altered by Kallan to their exact measurements. Lea had called for two of the palace’s pixies, Rini and Tyna, to come assist with their hair and makeup, insisting there were no finer hands to entrust themselves to.

  “Their level of detail is beyond comparison,” she explained when Freya questioned her. She wiggled her fingers. “It’s those tiny hands. You’ll see.”

  Knowing better than to challenge Lea’s decision, Freya simply nodded and went along. The final fitting of her outfit didn’t take long, and once Kallan had ensured their clothing fit as intended, he presented them each with the accessories he’d chosen.

  He handed Freya a square black box. “You won’t need much with all of the gold in the outfit his highness chose, but I thought some additional shimmer would finish it off nicely.”

  Freya opened the box, then squealed in delight when she saw the jewelry inside.

  “Oh, it’s lovely!” She touched the delicate gold strands that were nestled in the bed of black velvet and smiled. Small leaves and flowers crafted with such clarity they appeared as dipped versions of the real thing adorned the chains. As Freya ran her fingers over them, she saw they were nearly translucent.

  She touched a hand to her throat, realizing in dismay that the high cut of her dress would make a necklace an impossible accessory. Before she could voice her concerns, Kallan had nodded toward Rini and Tyna, who were fluttering in midair just beside the door.

  The two tiny females, small enough to perch on Freya’s shoulder, had a typical pixie appearance, making it difficult for Freya to tell them apart at first. Both had hair the color of polished silver, with glass-like eyes and ghost-white skin. Their wings, fluttering rapidly behind them, were nearly translucent, but when the sunlight hit them, they glittered in shades of purple and blue.

 

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