The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “They’ll work the strands into your hair,” Kallan explained. “When open, the clasp doubles as a pair of clips. The reflective nature of the leaves will pick up the color of your hair nicely.”

  Freya beamed at him. “It’s perfect, Kallan, thank you.”

  “And what have you got for me, kind sir?” Lea asked primly.

  “Silver, my dear,” he told her, handing her a box identical to the one he’d given Freya.

  Lea eagerly tilted the lid up, then sighed with delight when she saw the wispy silver necklace and matching ear cuff within. Like Freya’s, the strands were thin, but instead of foliage, Lea’s necklace had tiny charms depicting the moon in its various stages.

  “When I was born,” she explained to Freya as she brushed her fingers across the charms, “the moon was the brightest it had been in decades. It’s become a bit of a good luck charm for me.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Freya said.

  “I’ll pass on your thanks to the jewelry maker,” Kallan said. “If you ever need pieces made, Rosina is the best you’ll find, as I’m sure Lady Calliwell will attest.”

  “I have no doubt,” Freya murmured, still a bit awestruck by how perfect her necklace was. “I can assure you she’ll be getting my business in the future.”

  “I’ve already commissioned her for the ball next week,” he told her.

  “Smart thinking,” Lea said.

  Kallan gave her a small smile and a nod in thanks. “I’ll let you both finish preparations. Please call on me if there’s anything you need. I’ll return in a week with your gowns.”

  Once he’d left, the pixies swooped in to begin their work. When they spoke, their voices were high and melodic.

  “Makeup first,” the one on Freya’s left sang. “Rini, you take the Valkyrie.”

  Rini smiled brightly at Freya, then fluttered over and came to a stop by her shoulder. “I’m going to make you look like a goddess, darling.”

  Freya exchanged an excited smile with Lea, then nodded at Rini.

  “That sounds perfect.”

  It took nearly two hours for Rini and Tyna to finish their work, but when they were done, Freya couldn’t stop staring at the results.

  Her hair fell in a sleek curtain to her waist, the golden strands of her necklace pinned at her temples and looping around the back. The chains were so fine they were nearly invisible, lost in her pink and brown locks, but the leaves and flowers gleamed throughout, subtly reflecting the afternoon sun that streamed through the window. A light dusting of gold on her cheeks had left her skin glowing and ethereal.

  When she turned and looked at Lea, her eyes widened, her own appearance forgotten.

  “Lea, you look gorgeous!”

  Lea flipped her dark curls over her shoulder and frowned at her reflection. “I do, don’t I?” she said playfully.

  Tyna had given her friend a slightly silver glow and smoothed her hair into dark ringlets that hung to the center of her back. A few locks were twisted away from her face, revealing the delicate silver cuff that adorned one ear. The natural brown tones of her skin gleamed against the deep ruby color of her dress.

  “If they do this well for a simple royal dinner,” Lea said, “can you just imagine how we’ll look for the Commencement Ball?”

  Freya bit her lip and shook her head, then looked at herself in the mirror, where her reflection stared back, wide-eyed. Meeting Rini’s eyes, she grinned. “Thank you, Rini.”

  The small pixie gave her a satisfied smile and a small nod. “It was my pleasure, Lady Balthana.”

  “Ah!” Lea exclaimed when there was a knock at the door. “That must be the boys.”

  After a nod from Lea, Tyna snapped her fingers and the door swung open, revealing Lazarus and Collin waiting on the other side. Lazarus wore a cerulean doublet fastened at the neck with onyx buckles and black pants tucked into high black boots. Collin appeared to have taken care to match, wearing a white tunic with a black vest and cravat in the same shade as Lazarus’ jacket.

  Laz let out a low whistle. “Well, don’t you ladies look lovely.”

  Lea gave a low curtsy and preened. “Likewise.”

  “Shall we go?” Collin asked. “Our carriage awaits.”

  “Lead the way, sirs,” Lea said, waving them toward the door. “Rini, Tyna, thank you both for all of your help.”

  “It was our pleasure, dear,” Tyna said with a smile. “We’ll return the morning of the ball to assist you again.”

  “Have fun, children!” Rini sang after them.

  Freya tossed her a quick wink, then followed the others out of the room.

  The trip from Aldridge to the palace was about two hours up a wide road that wound through the foothills and into the forest of the mountain. The trees were so dense, interspersed only by hard, granite ridges and boulders, that Freya almost found it hard to believe that there was a palace nestled deep inside. She itched to let out her wings and fly there as she would’ve done as a girl, but she couldn’t bring herself to risk marring the pixies’ hard work.

  When they finally emerged from the dark forest that opened onto the palace lawn, Freya was struck, as she had been when she was a girl, at its sheer size and grandeur. The castle had been built of pale gray limestone that had been mined from the northern quarries of Caelora and carried south to the capital by the first king’s slaves nearly five millennia ago. Bastions cut with hundreds of arrow slits rose high above the ramparts that surround the castle, and leading up to the mammoth front gate was a giant, creaking drawbridge that spanned the distance across a moat, from the lawn to the gatehouse where the iron portcullis was slowly rising to allow them passage.

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Lea whispered. “I’ve visited a number of times over the years, but I’ll never quite get used to its beauty.”

  Freya smiled wistfully as she watched the palace loom closer and a spark of excitement lit in her chest. “It’s more beautiful than I remember.” Her smile turned to a grin as their carriage rattled across the wooden drawbridge. “Aer and I used to dare each other to climb under the drawbridge.” She rolled her eyes. “Once I finally got up the nerve, I was halfway there when he told me there was a troll living beneath it.”

  Lazarus laughed. “That sounds like Aer. What did you do?”

  “I kept climbing,” Freya replied, sticking her hand out the window and letting the soft breeze bush over her fingers. “I hadn’t quite gotten the hang of my wings yet, otherwise I would’ve flown up and popped him a good one right then. There was no troll, but I did find a door. Small, too, nearly impossible to find unless you’re a misbehaving seven-year-old girl willing to face a bridge troll. Aer was quite furious I found it before he did. I wasn’t able to open it, though, and I have no idea what its purpose was.”

  “Perhaps a simple way of tossing people into the moat?” Laz suggested. He shrugged at Lea’s wide-eyed look. “What? It could be!”

  “I’ve heard of those,” Collin said with a nod. “The palace had a number of secret entrances built into it back when King Eroan resided here. A means of execution is its most likely purpose.”

  “He was a paranoid old bat, that one,” Laz said. “My grandfather—King Salazar’s uncle—used to tell us stories of how King Eroan killed all of the slaves who built the castle, along with the architect, so no one would ever know the secrets of its construction.”

  “Laz’s grandfather was good friends with mine,” Lea explained. “The two of them loved to gather by the fire and terrify us children with stories of dead bodies and ghosts in secret passageways.”

  Freya laughed. “It’s been quite some time, but I don’t recall seeing either of those things on my explorations.”

  Lea’s eyes grew round with excitement. “Yes, Aer told me you two used to go exploring. Oh, is it wrong that I so desperately want to beg you to take me through the passages? My mother always forbade it.”

  “For good reason,” Collin said with quirk of his lips. “Your sense of direc
tion is horrifying.”

  “But,” Freya said, holding up a finger, “a Valkyrie’s sense of direction is unmatched.”

  “See, Collin? Problem solved.” Lea grinned. “As long as Freya is with me, I’ll be perfectly safe.”

  The carriage rolled to a stop just inside the gatehouse, and a few seconds later, Iska and Rissen pulled open the carriage doors to help them out. The guards that Lazarus’ parents—Governor and Lady Cailen of Caelora—had assigned to shadow him and Collin were dismounting from their horses, having ridden about a half-mile ahead to watch for any potential dangers on the road.

  Two servants waited for the group at the top of the sweeping staircase that led up to the palace’s main door.

  “My lords, and ladies,” a fairly squat male said in greeting. “If you’ll follow us, we will escort you to their majesties.”

  The two servants lead them through the entryway and into the main hall where Freya’s father was awaiting their arrival. He had divested himself of his uniform for once, opting instead for charcoal gray dinner attire.

  “Don’t you look dashing, Commander,” Lea said, smiling cheekily. “Isn’t it nice to be out of that stodgy old uniform for once?”

  He arched a brow. “Why yes, Grevillea, it is.”

  Lazarus choked back a laugh, then nodded at Byrric in greeting. “Good evening, Commander Balthana.”

  “Lord Cailen,” Byrric replied. “Lord Maddix, I hope you’ve come to keep these three in line,” he said to Collin with a smile.

  Collin sighed. “That does seem to be my lot in life.”

  Byrric patted him on the shoulder, then held out his arm to Freya. “Come, the king and queen await.”

  Gently, Freya laid her hand on her father’s arm, surprised when she felt a flutter of nerves in her belly. The king, while gruff at times, had always been kind when she was a girl, and the queen had often been like a doting aunt. Freya’s mother had told her once not long before she was killed that Ordona had always wanted a daughter and that Freya had helped fill that void, at least during her summer visits.

  But Freya hadn’t seen them in years. She’d been a different person then, although she’d changed in what she thought were good ways. Despite the infrequency of his visits, when Byrric had been present he’d drilled into her the importance of taking pride in one’s accomplishments and not diminishing her skills to put others at ease. He’d taught her how to dance the fine line between arrogance and confidence, one she teetered on for quite some time before learning to let her actions speak for themselves.

  She wondered how much Byrric had kept Salazar and Ordona abreast of her progress over the years.

  “I see Kallan got his hands on you,” Byrric said as they made their way down a long, arched hall toward the dining room. A small muscle twitched in his jaw when he saw the golden threads Rini had woven through the small braids that twisted away from Freya’s temples. “Dare I ask how much of my money you spent?”

  Freya shrugged, thankful for the distraction from her thoughts. “I’m not sure. There weren’t any price tags on the pieces, and since Aer chose the outfit, I couldn’t very well disobey him, could I?”

  Byrric sighed. “I suppose I should talk with his highness about how best to spend my money.”

  Freya laughed. “You think too highly of your influence on him.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “Do I?”

  “In some ways,” she amended, then gave him a sly smile. “Although, I may consider making him a frequent shopping partner.”

  “Gods, help me,” Byrric muttered.

  They came to a stop outside the doors to the dining room, and Freya’s nerves did another quick flutter.

  Seeming to sense her unease, Byrric patted her hand. “They’re eager to see you,” he said quietly before pulling open the door. “There’s no need to worry.”

  Freya hoped he was right.

  Chapter 14

  Despite her nerves, Freya couldn’t help but smile as she stepped into the dining hall and saw the opulence she’d look upon in wonder as a girl. Similar to the main academy building, stories of gods and Linds were carved into the high, coffered ceiling, the beams between sections gilded in gold. Only, these focused solely on the Harridan family line. Fierce dragons, kings and queens, royal crests, battles, and old runes were cast in sharp relief in the flickering candlelight from the gas-fueled chandeliers, shifting the shadows of the carvings, often giving the appearance of movement. Pale gold drapes were thrown open, giving the room a view of the setting sun. The dining table in the center, large enough for forty, was set with porcelain and crystal settings. Candelabras were set at the center and either end of the table, the golden candles shimmering under their flickering flames.

  “In case you were unaware,” Lea whispered, leaning in, “my family is quite fond of gold.” She nudged Freya with her elbow. “But at least your outfit matches.”

  Freya smiled, then schooled her features entirely when her father gave them a chastising look.

  Four people approached, Lea and Lazarus’ parents, Freya assumed. A dark-featured male with a complexion that matched Lea’s and a female with honey-gold skin took Lea’s hands, a soft smile on her pretty face. Lea’s mother had the same dark hair and soft expression as Queen Ordona, her older sister by several decades, but it was clear Lea had gotten most of her looks from her father.

  “Mother,” Lea said with a smile. She shifted her eyes to the male at her mother’s side. “Father, I’d like you both to meet Freya Balthana.”

  Freya smiled. “Governor and Lady Calliwell, it’s lovely to meet you.”

  “Orin, please.” Two dimples flashed in the governor’s cheeks when he smiled at her. “Byrric has told us so much about you.”

  Lady Calliwell took Freya’s hands and squeezed. “It’s wonderful to meet you, dear. Please, call me Perida.”

  “And these are Governor and Lady Cailen,” Byrric said, holding a hand toward Lazarus’ parents. His father, King Salazar’s cousin, had the typical Harridan dark hair and dark eyes, with a jaw that looked to be carved in stone. His stature resembled that of Salazar—tall, lean, nearly catlike in the way he moved. His mother had the deep umber skin so common in the southern regions of Edhil, her ancestral homeland.

  Governor Cailen gave Freya a terse nod. “Lady Balthana, a pleasure.”

  “Likewise,” Freya said, noting the severe lack of warmth compared to Lea’s parents. She smiled at Lady Cailen. “My lady.”

  Lazarus’ mother smiled demurely. “It’s wonderful to finally meet the Commander’s daughter in the flesh.” She shot Byrric a chastising look.

  “Now, Alyndra, let’s not start guilt-tripping the poor girl so soon,” a soft voice spoke from behind.

  Lady Cailen flinched, then turned to face the queen. “No one is guilt-tripping anyone, Ordona. I was simply stating a fact. Byrric has kept her sequestered for too long now.”

  Freya watched as the queen silenced her with a single look, then turned her gaze to Freya. Immediately, her face brightened and a smile curved her red lips.

  “Freya,” she said quietly, then opened her arms. “Come here, dear.”

  Grinning, Freya stepped into Ordona’s embrace, eagerly accepting her warm hug. The familiar scent of roses and vanilla greeted her. She inhaled, then tightened her grip.

  “My Queen,” she said quietly, surprised when tears thickened her voice. When Ordona leaned back, leaving just her hands on Freya’s shoulders, Freya saw her eyes were a bit red as well.

  Ordona cupped Freya’s cheek in her hand. “It’s so very wonderful to have you back,” she said. “Oh, it seems like just yesterday I was taking you children on walks through the gardens.” She took Freya’s hands and stepped back, taking her in. “You’ve managed to get the best of Byrric and Cina, haven’t you?”

  “I like to think so,” Freya said as the queen released her hands.

  Ordona dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand, then smiled at Lea, Laz, and Collin. “An
d you three… I hear you’ve been doing well helping Freya reacclimate to life here in Iladel.”

  “She’s quite the shopping partner, as I’m sure your son has told you,” Lea said.

  Ordona arched a thin, dark brow as she took in Freya’s outfit, made that much more opulent now that it was in a setting that complemented it so well. “Yes, Aerelius said he enjoyed helping you spend your father’s money,” she said with a wry smile.

  “The boy’s got good taste, at least,” Byrric muttered.

  “Indeed,” Ordona said. “Come, Salazar is waiting in the library.” She looped her arm through Freya’s and patted her hand. “It really is lovely to have you back, darling.”

  Freya smiled up at her. “It’s good to be back, Your Majesty.”

  When they entered the palace’s library with its endless walls of tomes, thick drapes, and leather-and-velvet furniture, they found King Salazar standing by a window, a cigar in his hand, the golden ring he wore on his thumb gleaming in the sunlight. A tall, lithesome male, he had wavy dark hair that just brushed the shoulders of his gold-trimmed burgundy coat. He was a cat shifter—lynx, to be exact—and even in his non-shifted form, he moved with a silent, predatory grace that often set others at unease. Freya was surprised, as she took him in for the first time in six years, to see that the resemblance to his son had become more striking in her absence.

  “Freya!” he boomed, stabbing out his cigar in a glass dish. He strode toward them, his shiny black boots silent on the marble floor. “The rogue student has finally arrived!”

  “Oh, Salazar, let the girl be,” Perida said, picking up a glass of wine that had been sitting on a small table. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  King Salazar gave his sister-in-law a flat look. “More than a week late.”

  Freya exchanged a glance with Byrric, who was sending her a look that simply said, “I told you so.” She should’ve known not to expect him to come to her defense.