Dark eyes met hers, and Vhalla looked up uncertainly, caught in a whirlwind of apprehension and fear. Would he know that she had been eavesdropping? She couldn’t imagine the prince would take kindly to it.
“You’re awake.” He breathed the words and his eyes softened with what looked like relief. Though Vhalla was certain she was mistaken.
“I am.” She nodded, her voice no longer sounded wrong.
“I’m glad,” he said softly.
Vhalla squinted up at him, not caring for how bold it was. “You, you’re glad?” Anger stammered her words as she glared at the tall man dressed all in black.
“I am, Vhalla—”
The prince took a step toward her, and Vhalla took a step back.
“No,” she shook her head. “No, don’t come near me. Never come near me again.” Vhalla’s voice was rougher than she had ever heard it before. She didn’t care that he was the prince, and she didn’t care that the minister stood as an observer.
“Vhalla,” The prince had the audacity to have the start of a smile on his face. Who did he think she was? Some ignorant child? “This is not a time for anger; we should celebrate.”
“You—pushed—me—off—a—roof.” Vhalla wished she had a more dramatic word for roof because it didn’t seem to quite cut to the truth of the matter.
He laughed.
Vhalla had never struck someone before, but he was making an appealing case.
“You are fine. See how quickly you are healing now? You will be better than fine soon. I will even teach you myself.” He outright smiled, as though he was bestowing some great honor upon her.
But Vhalla did not smile. She took another step away and swayed as the world was suddenly unstable. She had been on her feet for too long.
Prince Aldrik was there in a moment, his hands on her upper arms for support. “Stop this foolishness,” he said, his deep voice gentle. “You know you should not be standing. Let me help you back to bed.” His sudden kindness made her want to scream.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
“Vhalla—” The lightness was beginning to slip from his face.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me!” she cried, pushing his hands off and taking a step back. Vhalla stumbled, her world tilted, but her feet held onto the floor with all the force of her rage. “You threw me off a roof !” Her voice had risen to a near shrill. “You didn’t tell me! You didn’t warn me!”
“If I warned you, it would not have worked. If I had warned you, then you would not have done it.” He crossed his arms on his chest.
“Of course I wouldn’t have!” She threw her arms out and swayed dangerously again, but regained her balance. “I trusted you to be my teacher! I did not trust anyone else, but I trusted you as my prince! I trusted you because you asked!” The confession caught in her throat as she choked it out. Vhalla wasn’t sure if she only imagined his eyes widening by a fraction before darkening.
“And you were right to; I awoke you to something great.” His voice grew colder.
“I didn’t want this.” She looked down at her bruised and broken form.
“You asked for this!” he snapped.
“My prince, please, this isn’t...” The minister saw the conversation devolving before his eyes, and he took a step in from the doorframe.
“I didn’t ask for this! I don’t know what I wanted but it wasn’t this!” Her rage kept in the tears, and in that moment she swore he would not see her cry. “I am confused. I am broken—”
“You will heal, better than you were before,” Prince Aldrik assured her.
“I was fine before,” Vhalla protested.
“You were boring. You were worse than boring. You were normal and content. I gave you a chance for greatness.” He looked at her harshly.
“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been a Windwalker?” Her words quieted the air.
“I will not indulge such nonsense.” He brushed off the question.
“Do not toy with me anymore,” she spoke slowly. “What would have happened?” Vhalla asked again.
He stared at her a long moment. “If things were not as they are and you were not a Windwalker, then you would have fallen to your death.” Prince Aldrik shrugged as though the thought had crossed his mind, and he couldn’t have been troubled to care.
“You bastard.” The words were out before she even had time to consider them, but after spoken she hardly regretted them.
“What did you say?” Prince Aldrik snarled.
“You, my prince,” she sneered in kind. “You are a self-centered, egotistical, self-absorbed, narrow-sighted, vain, self-important,” she felt her anger finally reach its boiling point, “conceited bastard!” Vhalla cried out.
The window next to them shattered, flooding the room with a gale peppered with shards of glass. She hardly seemed to notice as the minister braced himself against the wind. The prince stood motionless, staring at her darkly from behind a thin screen of flame that broke the wind and protected him from the shattered glass.
“Calm down,” he growled.
“You can’t tell me what to do anymore!” she screamed.