“What do we do?” Aldrik stared down the bridge of his nose at her. “What do we do? I told you, there is no we, Vhalla. There is you, and there is me. You go off and be a lady. I have the stunning privilege of watching you safe and sound about the Court. I marry this girl and fulfill my duty.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No!” Her voice cracked. “You always have a plan, an out, a silver tongue, a clever half-truth or way around.” She picked the paper off the floor and held it before him. “Look! Look! You-you made me a lady. Me! A farmer’s daughter is now worthy to be the love of the crown prince. If you can do that—”
He swatted her hands away as though the paper was nothing, and Vhalla gawked at him in shock.
“It is over!” Aldrik alternated between frustrated anger and desperate pleading for her to understand and take pity on his plight. “I fought all day. When I told him I would refuse any woman but you, he countered like a coward. He brought you here to threaten me, to force me.”
Vhalla’s eyes widened, thinking of the unheeded warnings of Lord Ophain: she was the chink in the crown prince’s armor.
“I tried everything I could to formulate an alternative surrender, up until the moment he had you here with a man who was going to kill you if anyone other than my father walked out.” Aldrik stared down at his bloody knuckles, injured from where he’d smashed them against the table. “I traded my hand for your life. The best I could do was to insure your safety as a lady, to see you set for life with my family’s gold. That was my play.”
She stared at him in slack-jawed shock. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had half an idea of what had been occurring. Vhalla gripped the bottom of her tunic. It was her fault.
“If I, if I’d worn my armor.” Her shoulders quivered. “Then, then—”
“No.” Aldrik sighed, involuntarily softening at her apparent turmoil. “Schnurr would have put the point of his blade as soon through your eye as anywhere else, and I knew you were in no condition to fight after last night.”
“There has to be something else we could have done.” The volume of her voice was inconsistent, changing with each shaky breath.
“Vhalla, enough. It’s over.” Aldrik turned away from her tiredly, his shoulders hunched.
“No!” she cried and scampered in front of him. “No!” She shook her head furiously. “What about everything we said? All we planned?”
“Gone.” Aldrik couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.
“How can you be like this?” she snapped.
“How can you?” He turned it back on her. “I thought you knew so clearly how this would end.” Aldrik sneered down at her.
Vhalla’s world stilled briefly from a memory that she had let herself forget, a memory of a woman, a curiosity shop, fire, and red eyes. A future telling that she had shoved away. Tears welled up in Vhalla’s wide eyes. She had known: she would lose her dark sentry. How could she have been so foolish to believe she’d beaten fate in the Pass?
Vhalla absorbed her prince’s face, still handsome to her despite brimming with anger and pain. It was as though all she was to him now was torture. Vhalla shook her head once more, as though she could wake from this living nightmare. Her face dropped into her palms and Vhalla sobbed.
It was broken, all was broken around her. The beautiful yet delicate thing that had been built between them was torn to shreds. She heard the ripping sound of her heart over her tears.
“No,” she repeated, her eyes closed. “No, no! This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen! We—” It was a physical pain, it was an awful wrenching deep in her gut. “I can’t, what do I do now?”
Aldrik hovered, blurry through her tears.
“You’re free now. You do whatever you want.” Aldrik averted his eyes away, his jaw taut. He was struggling with her suffering, struggling with not comforting her.
Vhalla saw it, but she did not care. “Without you?” she pushed him.
“Yes, without me!” he bellowed. “Your purpose here is done!”
“My purpose?” Vhalla gaped. Her voice became shrill, “Was that all I was to you? A-a thing? A conquest? Did you just keep me neatly for your father? Or did you want the honor of saying you took the Windwalker to bed first?” Vhalla yelled petulantly at him. Her words weren’t fair. Life wasn’t being fair.
“How dare you,” he growled, taking a step toward her.
“How dare you, Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris. How dare you make me believe!” She tugged at the chain around her neck, the watch on display. “How dare you make me love you! How dare you go back on your word!” Vhalla couldn’t stop herself. “I wish I’d never said yes. I wish I had never met you!” she screamed.