Fire Falling, стр. 62

ALDRIK LAID HER down gently on a chaise, a boneless shell of grief and tears. Vhalla curled on her side, almost choking as she sobbed. Aldrik sat next to her, his fingers lightly caressing her hair.

Whatever peace he could offer her was quickly ruined by the door slamming open.

“You have lost your mind!” Lord Ophain took giant steps toward his nephew.

“Leave us, Uncle.” Aldrik didn’t pull his eyes away from her, his fingers losing themselves in her hair.

“I thought you wanted to protect her—”

“And she is clearly nowhere safer than at my side.” There was a foreboding calm to Aldrik’s words.

“No, what you did just now was put an even bigger target on her back by showing everyone that she’s the chink in the crown prince’s armor!” Lord Ophain pleaded, “Aldrik, you need to move her to a clerical room and cover for your actions. That you acted as you did only because we need her for the war. You want her to think that—”

Fire erupted next to them as the opposite chaise burst into flame. The sudden brightness and flames at Aldrik’s back made Vhalla stir.

“Uncle, I swear to the Mother, if you or anyone else tries to take her from me—”

“That’s enough, Aldrik.” Vhalla rested her hand over one of his clenched fists. The flames instantly extinguished. She slumped against him, his arm quickly wrapping around her shoulders. Vhalla didn’t know which one of them was shaking. “He’s trying to help. Should I—”

Aldrik tightened his arm, half-pulling her onto his lap. He held her against him as if he was desperately trying to piece back the broken thing she was with his quivering caresses. One arm clutched at her waist, and he drew a shaky breath. “No, I will not.” He scowled at the Lord of the West as he spoke to her. “I will not let you go.”

“You’ll need to let her go if you don’t want her to die from infection.” Prince Baldair stood in the doorway. “I’ll see to her here.” He crossed over, placing one of the largest cleric’s boxes Vhalla had ever seen on the ground by the chaise.

The two brothers regarded each other, and Vhalla began to think Aldrik was going to make good on his promise. But his arms finally relaxed, and he eased her back into a reclining position. Aldrik quickly resituated himself so that her head could rest on his thigh.

The younger prince pulled at the hem of her shirt, slicing through the tatters in the back all the way to her collar. Vhalla didn’t have the energy to worry about her modesty. She didn’t have the energy to do anything other than cry and let Aldrik wipe away the tears.

“Father is assembling the majors,” Baldair said finally. “You need to go.”

“I’m not leaving her,” Aldrik repeated.

“She needs to rest,” Prince Baldair retorted.

“You should go, Aldrik.” Lord Ophain was much more collected. “If you want to protect her then you must go. You are the only one who can represent her interests at that table, both of your interests.”

Aldrik’s hands stopped moving. His pain palpably washed over her and numbed Baldair’s probing in the gash on her back. Vhalla clutched the crown prince’s thigh with white knuckles. Her fingers would leave bruises in their wake.

He was going to leave her. She knew he had to but that made it no easier. The world was taking him from her too. Vhalla couldn’t handle it.

“Baldair,” Aldrik choked on the a but quickly recovered.

Larel had been his friend too, his only friend in many ways. Vhalla had taken her from him as well. It was all her fault. Vhalla pressed her eyes closed, her whole body shaking.

“You don’t let her out of your sight. You protect her with everything you have. You see her healed and well. Do this for me and I will never ask a single thing of you again,” Aldrik’s voice was raw as it forced through tears he wasn’t letting fall.

Prince Baldair’s ministrations paused as the two princes shared a look of understanding that had not been there in some time. “You have my word, brother. On my honor.”

Aldrik began to pull away from her. Vhalla gripped his hands with both of hers, willing him to stay. “D-don’t, Aldrik. Please, don’t leave me yet. I know you have to but not, not yet.”

Her eyes nearly broke him.

“Aldrik, please,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He eased her back down onto the chaise, standing at its side. Aldrik leaned forward, smoothing her hair away from her face one more time and pressed his lips to her temple. Vhalla sobbed.

“I will return as soon as I can.”

“Promise me.” She gripped for his fingers again. “Promise, and I’ll believe it.”

“I promise, and I will never break a promise to you, my Vhalla.” He took his hand from hers and straightened. Vhalla watched as the stony facade of the crown prince slipped back into place. He wore the distance of nobility, the ferocity of the Fire Lord, and the armor of his title. He was a warrior ready to do battle.

Vhalla balled her hands into fists and buried her eyes in the pads of her palms, letting out a wail the moment the door closed behind Aldrik and his uncle. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault.”

“It is not.” She hadn’t been speaking to the younger prince, but he responded.

“What do you know?” Vhalla spat bitterly. “You know nothing about your brother, nothing about me. You’ve never even tried to know. You were too busy with your misplaced warnings. So just be quiet for once.”

The prince obliged her for a time as he placed gauze over the wound, coating it in a sticky substance that turned icy as it hardened. He pressed on her shoulder lightly and Vhalla understood that he needed her on her stomach to access the wound on her calf. The prince began stitching the deep wound without even warning her first.

“That one had poison in it,” she mumbled.

“What?” His fingers stopped. “Are you sure?”

“It was affecting my magic.” Vhalla nodded, her tears subsiding into numbness.

“I’ll need to get someone else to see to that.” The prince fumbled among the vials of elixirs, salves, and antidotes. “I have no idea which is which for poisons.”

“Aldrik will know.” Vhalla was certain. Prince Baldair returned to his stitching and packing the wound with a thick salve. When he was finished, he came around the chaise to kneel before her face. The prince dipped his first two fingers into the tin and began to massage the ointment over Vhalla’s black eye. “Thank you, my prince,” she begrudgingly offered.

“Baldair,” he corrected.

“Baldair?” The name sounded surprisingly easy on her tongue.

“You call Aldrik by his name; it’s weird to have you continue to call me by my title.” Baldair packed up his case and stood. “I’ll fetch Elecia; she’ll see about an antidote.”

“I said Aldrik would know.” Vhalla had no interest in seeing the Western woman.

“And Aldrik will not return for many hours,” Baldair replied firmly. His tone softened when he saw her deflate. “Elecia will help you.”

Vhalla nodded and began mentally withdrawing herself to endure the assault Elecia was likely to heap upon her. It had been days since they spoke, and in such time Vhalla had become the secret lover of the crown prince, Elecia’s cousin. Vhalla closed her eyes and attempted to think about nothing.

When the door opened again Vhalla didn’t even turn. She held herself tightly, trying to fight away the shivers. Her fault, her fault, it was all her fault.

“Vhalla.” Elecia touched her shoulder gently, and Vhalla spooked, nearly jumping out of her skin at the contact. “Let me see you.”

Elecia’s manner left no room for objection, and the Westerner’s hands were suddenly wrapped carefully around Vhalla’s neck. She moved her fingers up Vhalla’s cheek, the other hand ghosting over her shoulders, down the middle of her chest and on her thigh.