His voice was gentle but there was a quivering restraint, as though his words were forced. “Then,” Aldrik began, “I think that would be the saddest thing to happen to the magical community in a long time.”
Vhalla sighed softly. Of course, it was the magical community. She was the Windwalker, first of her kind in almost a century and a half. The one with powers people wanted for reasons still unknown to her. She turned to the door without a word.
“I would miss teaching you.” Everything stopped as the sentence crossed his lips. Vhalla turned back to look at him, suddenly aware of how small the connecting passage really was. As if realizing the same thing the prince quickly broke eye contact to smooth his coat with his palm before slowly buttoning it. “So, when will I see you again?”
“What?” Vhalla blinked at the sudden and strange question. He had been doing well at seeing her by stealing her away. “You’re the crown prince. You can see me whenever you want. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
“Yes, well,” he muttered, running a hand over his hair. “Lunch, then, tomorrow? No, wait; I have business with Egmun.” He cursed at the foreign name. “The day after tomorrow, I will have time. But this is not an order from your prince.”
Something crept on the edge of Vhalla’s mind. He wasn’t stealing her away or leaving her with little choice—not that she had minded. He wasn’t ordering her as her prince. He hadn’t mentioned training or discussing sorcery or her future. If it wasn’t business or obligation, then what exactly was the reason behind this meeting?
“I’d love to.” She smiled, and the mask that the prince normally wore slipped long enough for her to see a flash of joy in his eyes. “I’ll meet you in the garden?”
He nodded, a little smile playing on his lips, causing a warm honey feeling in her stomach. Vhalla pushed on the door before the feeling spread into her blood and overpowered her senses. She emerged into the cool night air, the mysterious portal closing behind her to disappear as if nothing more than a stone wall.
She couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping as she all but skipped back to her room. There was no reason to be so happy, she reminded herself, and yet she was. She was going to have lunch with the prince.
Vhalla noticed nothing amiss as she pushed open her door. All her lightness vanished with one shift of her gaze.
Sareem sat on her bed holding the wrinkled gloves in his hands. He looked up at her with a mix of emotions flashing across his features. Dropping the gloves to the floor, he walked over and pulled her into a tight embrace, resting a hand on the back of her head.
Vhalla stood there pressed against him, his one arm tight around her arms, the other hand holding her face to his chest. After the initial shock wore off, a strange sensation spread through her, and Vhalla didn’t know if she wanted to hold him or push him off. Her arms stayed limp at her sides as a middle ground.
“I was so worried,” he whispered hoarsely. “You just, you screamed, and then you were on the ground.” He stroked her head as if to offer her comfort, but he was clearly more distraught than she was. “I didn’t know what to do. I told them I’d get a cleric, but after—after what you showed me, I knew it wasn’t a cleric you needed.” He rested his cheek on the top of her forehead a moment with a soft sigh. Vhalla remained still, allowing him to piece together his story.
“I went to the Tower entrance, a Tower entrance? I don’t even know the names of the people who answered. I simply said your name and they knew, they came without question, and I gave you to them. I didn’t even know their names.” His voice cracked. “And then they were frantic, and they took you. Vhalla, you didn’t move, you were hardly breathing. And they took you and I-I didn’t know if you were alive, so I waited.” He sounded so hopeless and pathetic that Vhalla couldn’t help but put her arms lightly around her friend’s waist and pat his back in a friendly manner.
They stood together as he slowly regained his composure. Eventually he released her and wiped his face with his palms.
“Sorry about that,” Sareem tried to laugh.
Vhalla shook her head. “I appreciate it, Sareem. Obviously, they did help. You did the right thing,” she tried to reassure him, and it looked like it worked. “Did any of the others ask?”
“Yeah, but I told them I found a cleric, and that it was the heat getting to your head. I stayed also to kick anyone out, saying you were here but needed rest,” Sareem added with a small nod.
Vhalla felt guilty for putting her friend through all this, no matter how unkind he had been to her about her magic.
“I’m sorry that you have to keep lying for someone like me.” She took a step away from him.
“Someone like you?” He looked honestly confused, which annoyed her slightly.