“If it’s not trouble?” Vhalla asked, mustering her courage. She did not understand what the Bond was, not really. He had been right about that. But there was something about the way his eyes fell on her that was different than any other person’s gaze.
Walking slowly down the steps of the gazebo, she met those eyes again as he offered her his elbow. Vhalla could not ignore the sparks that shot through her like lightning when they touched.
Aldrik led her through the iron gate and down a passageway, which had her gasping within steps. The floor was not carpet, nor stone; it was white marble set in a diamond pattern with smaller golden diamonds meeting at corners. The arched ceiling was painted in brightly colored frescos and the candles flickered magically to life as they walked by.
The prince remained silent as his guest absorbed the wonder in awe. Alabaster statues looked down from high ceilings. Windows made of colored glass and black lead cast bright pictures on the canvas of the floors and walls. It was a world she had only heard of, like a fairytale that was passed from the lips of one servant to the next.
“This place, is...” Her mind was slowly churning back to being capable of words. “It’s...”
“My home,” he finished for her.
“I’m not supposed to be here.” Vhalla shook her head as they stopped before a small side hall.
“You may be wherever I permit,” Aldrik reminded her. Despite his princely tone the words were thoughtful, and he looked at her as though she was the only one he wanted to permit entry. “I would like to teach you more.”
“I may enjoy that.” Vhalla wasn’t sure why she was whispering.
“Come back tomorrow?” he asked.
“I can’t,” Vhalla bit her lip. “I had today off for my birthday, but tomorrow I will be working.”
“If you could, would you come?” Vhalla had a hard time deciphering his look. Uncertainty was clear enough, but was there also want?
“If I could,” Vhalla replied with a nod.
“Very well.” The corners of his lips twitched. “This hall will take you back to the servants’ passages. Just head down.”
Vhalla took a step backward, her hand falling from his elbow. She turned before his stare made her head feel any lighter and started down the dim hallways away from the world of wonder and magic. The castle morphed around her, and she was lost in her thoughts all the way back to her room. If she could, she would rather learn magic than be in the library. That was what she said, wasn’t it? Was it true?
Vhalla rubbed her eyes and pushed open the door to her room. She knew she hadn’t eaten much, but she didn’t feel that hungry and her hunger wasn’t enough to deal with the dining hall.
On her table were three small presents. There was a blank journal from the master and a new quill and inkpot from Roan; Vhalla had a suspicion they had coordinated their gifts. Lastly, a thin rectangular box that had a small note attached:
Vhalla ?
A very happy birthday. While I am glad you got the day off, your presence in the library was missed.
Sincerely yours,
? Sareem
She gave the note a tired smile. Placing it to the side on her desk she picked up the box. Unwrapping the used parchment, she found a ruby box within. Vhalla vaguely recognized it. It was from Chater’s, a clothing shop in the nice area of town not far from the library’s public entrance. She had only seen noble ladies walking out of the store, carrying the red boxes with pride.
Vhalla felt strange just holding it.
Slowly, she pulled off the top. Vhalla gasped. Within were two lovely sapphire gloves. They were fingerless, which suited her writing habit, and extended almost to her elbow. She remembered all the times last winter she complained about her hands being too cold to write. Her other gloves were old cotton things and worn thin with holes from over-use. Her gift were dyed leather and had a beautiful golden thread that embellished the base and sides with an intricate leaf and vine design.
Vhalla couldn’t imagine how much they had cost Sareem. She was fairly sure they were close to the same amount of the savings she had scraped together. As though she would ruin them with her touch, Vhalla returned the gloves to the box. With a sigh she buried her face into her pillow. What was Sareem thinking?
THE NEXT DAY Vhalla awoke groggy and tired. Dawn came so early. All of the excitement had exhausted her. Her body was still getting used to magic, she reminded herself. If she was using it at times without even consciously knowing it, then she was potentially wearing herself out more than she realized.
She let out a groan for two reasons. The first was because she realized she had forgotten her winter robes in the garden. She would have to get them back somehow; for now her summer ones would have to do. The second reason was because she saw Sareem’s gift once more. Vhalla tugged them on with little thought, ignoring how soft the leather actually was.
“Are those new?” Roan asked as they waited for the master.
“They are,” Vhalla nodded weakly in response.
“Can I see?”