The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “And you lived to tell the tale,” Freya said, not bothering to hide how impressed—and slightly horrified—she was at that. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “So I’ve been told.” His eyes continued to take in their surroundings, the framed portraits in gilded frames, richly draped windows, and gleaming marble floors. “This is a lovely place to call home, my lady. Are you eager to make your place here?”

  Shoving back her desperate desire to grill him on his travels abroad, she kept her words level and attempted to gauge his meaning. “I am. I’ve always enjoyed my time in Iladel, and I’ve become quite close with the royal family over the years, so I’m eager to call it my home permanently.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, I was told you and the prince have been friends for some time. It must help to already be so familiar with the region.”

  “It certainly is,” she replied.

  He flashed her a smile. “I must confess, I’ve heard some rumors about you, my lady. I wasn’t sure if I believed them, but I happened to see you in the training yard earlier this week with the children. Your skill with a blade is quite impressive. Did you really work with the marshals in your home city?”

  “I did,” she said, noting the odd shift in topic. “They took me on when I was fifteen.”

  Reginald’s eyes widened. “Fifteen… that’s, I’m sorry, my lady, but that’s so young!”

  “Human women aren’t taught to fight, then?”

  “Oh, they are, and quite well in many cases. None are recruited as law enforcement at fifteen, however.” He gave her an appraising look. “Was it your Valkyrie blood or your witchcraft that made them choose you?”

  She slid him a glance. “As I’m a halfblood, I would venture to guess it was both.”

  Another confused look. “A halfblood?”

  “Yes, my lord, a halfblood.” A bit of annoyance slipped through in her words. She was unsure why he was pretending to be so dense. As emissary, he would know her background backward and forward. It would be foolish and irresponsible of him not to. “I inherited equal power from my mother and father.”

  “Is that not—well, wouldn’t that be the case for everyone born of both races?”

  She shook her head. “Witch blood nearly always wins out in mixed-race pairings. Valkyrie are strong, but rare, male Valkyrie even moreso, so it wasn’t much of a shock that I have the power I do.” She smiled up at him. “Now, I know my species isn’t why you’ve asked to speak with me.”

  “Not entirely, no. I only wanted to get to know the future queen a bit, see what kind of mind you have.” He scrunched his face in chagrin, then let it relax into a smile. “I was also hoping to pick your brain a bit about your time with the marshals.”

  She gave him an amused look. “Was there anything particular you wanted to know?”

  “Your methods, mainly. They’re quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Did your technique come from training with law enforcement?”

  “My father and mother taught me most of what I know, but my mentor in Watoria helped hone my technique to fit my duties there.” Once her father had given her permission to join them in a professional capacity, Ashton had ensured she was put through the most rigorous training they could manage. She’d often hated him for his indifference to her innate abilities, but as she grew, she acknowledged that his methods, while different than Byrric’s and Cina’s, were just as effective.

  “I noticed you didn’t seem to use your magic when working with the children yesterday. Is that standard practice for you?”

  Smirking, she looked up at him. “If I didn’t know better, my lord, I might think you were trying to suss out my secrets.”

  He chuckled. “Not at all, my lady. I only hope to take advantage of my experience here, learn what I can from a different land to hopefully better my own. As you are to rule this land, I’d like to get to know you.”

  Not thinking twice, Freya took the opening.

  “Better your own lands? Forgive me, my lord, but I haven’t heard of any difficulties in Dystone. Has something happened?”

  “No, no, of course not,” he said, his smile coming a fraction of a second too late. “But a nation can always better itself, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Only a fool would think otherwise,” she agreed. “My parents raised me with that very mindset.”

  Reginald gave a short nod. “Yes, your father seems good at his job, doesn’t he?”

  “He certainly does,” Freya replied, a bit disappointed when she saw no real reaction at the mention of her father. “If you’ve got an interest in discussing techniques, I’d be happy to set up a time for you to visit the training yard and speak to the knights there. I’m sure Sir Ervic would be happy to show you around.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, my lady,” he said.

  “None at all. Now, tell me about Dystone. Your queen has said lovely things about the lands, but it sounds as though you’ve traveled a bit farther.”

  “Yes, as the youngest, I’ve had the good fortune of time to myself,” he replied. “Willem spent most of his life under our father’s thumb learning how to be king and my sisters and brother spent their time learning to find spouses, so I used my time to get to know my country.” He gave a shrug. “Many think it’s a lonely existence, but I quite enjoy it.”

  Freya nodded. “Having lived among the citizens of my own country, I can certainly see why you would feel that way. The anonymity I had these last few years was quite freeing. I look forward to my future here, but I’ll always be thankful that I was able to have the opportunity to be normal. Not Lady Balthana or the future queen.”

  He smiled his understanding. “Just Freya?”

  She laughed. “Yes, just Freya.

  Chapter 43

  The walk to Reginald’s wing took longer than Freya had intended, but as he seemed open to discussion, she chose a roundabout way to get to their destination. As they walked, Freya asked questions about where he’d traveled, while he asked her about her time in Watoria. It seemed a perfectly innocuous conversation, but Freya committed every word, every topic to memory to examine later.

  Much of what she learned she already knew. He’d grown up in Caldel, the capital of Dystone, with his parents and siblings. He enjoyed to travel and hunt, was well-read, and despite being nearly thirty, had yet to find a wife or express any interest in furthering his family’s line. It was unclear how his parents felt about that fact, and though she tried to push a bit, all she could glean was that he didn’t care for the belief that one had to be settled by a certain age.

  “What’s the need?” he’d asked. “As a human, I’ve got a short life. Why on earth would I spend it with a woman who only makes me mildly happy?”

  She tried to get him to slip, to mention something that might indicate true strife within his country or his family, but he maintained a smooth composure throughout. He seemed a nice enough man, and if she didn’t know better, she never would’ve thought to question his motives or meaning.

  After seeing Reginald to his chambers, she returned to her room to find Aer lying on her bed, hands folded behind his head.

  “Back so soon?” She’d expected his hunting trip to go on several more hours, at least.

  “The game seemed intent on eluding us, so we ended our day early.” He grinned. “I heard a rumor about you.”

  She kicked off her shoes and dropped down on the bed beside him. “Oh? Does it involve me and a certain human taking a leisurely stroll through the palace?”

  “Indeed it does,” he said, propping his head on his fist. “Lea informed me she abandoned you, leaving you to dig for information once my mother was gone. So tell me, what was dear Lord Reginald Ristner like?”

  “Handsome,” Freya replied airily. “And quite charming. With a face like his, I could almost forget his potentially nefarious intentions.”

  “Ah, so now I have to worry that you’ll leave me for a human, then?” Laughing, Aer put his arm around her waist a
nd pulled her down to lay beside him. “Shall I find a few reasons to convince you why that would be a terrible idea?”

  Laughing, she turned to face him. “That human has nothing on you, even if his eyes do crinkle when he laughs.” Her own eyes ran over his face, his mussed hair, and the sly smile that graced his lips. “Not even close,” she said quietly, brushing her hand down his cheek.

  His smile faltered a bit, then widened. “A valiant attempt to distract me, but that’s a fact I am already well-aware of.” With a nudge against her hips, he shifted her onto her back and rolled on top of her. “Now, let’s see… how best to convince you that you shouldn’t prefer a human to a handsome Lind prince?”

  He braced himself on his arms, then dipped his head toward hers, smiling as she lifted her head toward him, eagerly accepting the offered kiss.

  Contentment settled over her as it commonly did when they shifted their focus to one another, to kisses and caresses and whispered words.

  “Do you love me yet?” he murmured.

  “How odd,” she said with a grin. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “There’s only one more day,” he whispered. “It’s alright if you want to just give in and admit it.”

  Sliding a hand up her thighs, he drew her legs around his waist, rolling his hips against her as he took her mouth again, his lips scorching against hers.

  I love you.

  “I could say the same for you,” she said breathlessly as his hands continued to roam across her body, one slipping under her shirt, caressing her skin.

  “Have you ever known me to admit defeat, Valkyrie?”

  She let out a contented sigh as he ran his lips and teeth along her neck.

  “We’ve got an hour before we have to meet our parents for dinner.” Leaning back, he brushed his thumb across her cheek and grinned wickedly. “How much more convincing do you need?”

  “To admit my love, or to abandon my hopes of a human consort?”

  He laughed quietly, a low, dark sound that rumbled against her body. “Both.”

  “I suppose that would take quite a good deal of convincing,” she whispered. “So what will you do?”

  One more day, she thought.

  A fact that no longer brought forth rattling nerves. Now she only wished for the hours to speed up.

  Slowly, he slid down her body, lifting her shirt and feathering slow kisses across her stomach. His eyes met hers and he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pants. “I think I’d like to try something new.” Slowly, he began to undo the fastenings, causing her heart to kick up a notch. “Prepare properly for tomorrow, you know.”

  Keeping her eyes on his, she lifted her hips, allowing him to slide her pants down her legs.

  She shuddered out a breath as he began to kiss his way up the inside of her leg, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of her thigh.

  “I think I might like that.”

  They were late to dinner.

  After they seated themselves at the long table in the king and queen’s private dining room, pointedly ignoring the varying looks of disapproval being sent their way, a servant poured them each a goblet of wine while several others began setting dishes on the table and spooning food onto plates.

  “Now that you’re both here, there’s a good deal we need to cover before tomorrow,” Ordona said, her lips still turned down in annoyance. “Starting with the ceremony.”

  “What about the ceremony?” Freya asked.

  “We’ve had to change officiants,” Salazar said as two servants began to set dishes on the table before them. “Carigan has become indisposed, so Andreus will be filling in.”

  Aer paused, his goblet poised at his lips, and sent his father a disbelieving look that matched the one Freya wore. “The officiant of a royal wedding has become indisposed the night before we’re to marry, and Andreus is your replacement?” He set his goblet down. “Are you mad?”

  “Who is Andreus?” Freya asked. The name didn’t ring any bells.

  Byrric gave her an odd look. “Andreus Florian, your professor. He was a judge for several centuries prior to his current position and is a powerful warlock, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “He poisoned nearly every friend I made at Aldridge this term and you expect him to marry us?”

  Salazar sighed. “For educational purposes, Freya, and he’s performed mating bond rituals for a good many royals, including myself, so I can assure you of his qualifications.”

  Aer arched a brow as he began cutting into his venison. “And what exactly led to the sudden absence of our former officiant?”

  “He’s fallen ill,” Salazar replied.

  “We’ve sent the castle physician to tend to him, but he is in no state to perform a wedding,” Byrric said. “It appears he’s come down with a case of food poisoning.”

  Freya and Aer exchanged a look across the table. Based on the way his eyes shifted when he looked at her, she could tell he believed their reasoning about as much as she did, which was hardly at all.

  “Now, moving on.” Ordona began cutting into her meat, abandoning the topic of their wayward officiant. “Freya, Kallan and the girls will arrive at your room promptly at nine tomorrow, so please be ready for them.”

  Freya smiled, but before she could speak, Ordona shifted her attention to her son.

  “Aerelius, your attendant has retrieved your attire from Kallan already, so I’ll expect you in your father’s chambers and set to go by three o’clock. Guests will begin congregating at half-past, and Freya will enter the chapel at precisely four o’clock.”

  “I’ll be at the door to escort you,” Byrric added.

  “You’ll do the traditional mating vows and Florian will perform the incantation,” Ordona continued. “Just do your best not to let on how much it’s affecting you. The dizziness and other… feelings can make it difficult to control your reactions to the magic, especially when you’re already in love, making the mating pull feel…” she wrinkled her nose and looked at Salazar, then Byrric. “Tighter?”

  Aer grinned suggestively at Freya across the table at his mother’s words and she almost smiled.

  Admit it, he seemed to say.

  She grinned back. You first.

  “Hurried, more like,” Byrric corrected. “More demanding.”

  “If you’re unable to keep your wits about you, you’ll appear weak to those in attendance,” Salazar added. “A show of weakness is not an option.”

  “Agreed. Best to keep your eyes on one another.”

  “It will help keep your focus on remaining steady.”

  “The focus should be on one another, regardless.”

  “True. Yes, eyes drifting could indicate disinterest and we certainly don’t want that.”

  “Their hands will be joined, so that will help.”

  As their voices blended together, one instruction or bit of advice melded into the next with hardly a breath in between. How to look at one another, how to appropriately show affection, proper hand placement while dancing, proximity while sitting, while walking, while speaking. Freya could feel her temper spiking with each suggestion, each instruction, feeling as though she’d gone from bride to a pet in need of training.

  After several minutes, Aer let his fork fall noisily to his plate.

  “I think we’ve got it,” he said flatly. “Don’t trip, frown, swoon, or faint and be sure to keep our groping on the dance floor to a minimum.” He gave his parents and Byrric an expectant look. “Anything else?”

  Byrric sighed. “I know this seems like a lot, but you must understand the importance—”

  “I think we understand perfectly fine,” Freya interrupted. Frowning, she looked at the three of them. “Do you all believe Aer and I have been putting on a show these last few months? That when we hold hands or look fondly at one another it’s because we want others to think we’re eager to wed?”

  “No, of course not, dear,” Ordona sai
d softly. “But you two have your own way of doing things, of expressing your feelings, and on a normal day that would be fine—”

  “I’m sorry, but how many times will we be chastised for inappropriately showing affection?” Aer frowned at Freya. “Four? Five?”

  “Knife-throwing contests, death threats, and jokes about breaking your betrothal are not considered ‘showing affection’ by any stretch of the imagination,” Salazar snapped.

  “Your Majesties, we’re well-aware of the importance of painting a picture of unity and love at our wedding,” Freya said, knowing that wasn’t an argument worth having. “Your presumption that we may not be able to handle a bit of magic is, quite frankly, insulting.”

  “A bit of magic?” Salazar laughed darkly. “You’re demonstrating just how little you know, girl.”

  She sent him a glare. “Do you believe your son to be weak? That I am weak?”

  “Freya,” Byrric warned. “Enough.”

  Aer set his napkin on the table and leaned back in his chair. “It’s a fair enough point. If you truly believed we were too ill-prepared to accept a mating bond during our wedding, you wouldn’t have insisted on moving the wedding up.” His eyes narrowed in speculation. “So you either regret changing the timeline, or you’re more concerned than you normally would be about how a minor faux pas might paint a picture of our monarchy. Which is it?”

  “We need to ensure you are both prepared for any potential missteps,” Byrric said slowly, as though speaking with a child. “That no one will have cause to question the strength of your union.”

  Freya held her father’s stare for a few seconds, torn between laughing and a desire to toss another butter knife at him for his deflection. Tension was radiating off Aer but starting a fight with their parents wasn’t worth doing, not when they had so many other things to worry about.

  She let out a quiet breath, then turned to the king and queen, looking at them each in turn. “Your Majesties, you’ve both spent a good deal of time preparing me and Aerelius for this wedding. The things you’re telling us to do tomorrow are already things we would’ve done. We can assure you that you’ve nothing to worry about.”