“Even so,” Elecia huffed. “You’re a Duchess of the West; have some modesty.”
“We’re friends, and you’re a woman as well.” Vhalla shrugged and made a show of her changing. The West had their notions of modesty and the South had their ideals of ladyship. Vhalla was Eastern, so she wasn’t constrained by either. More importantly, it annoyed Elecia. And that energized Vhalla’s tired body.
Clipping back into the armor Aldrik had made for her, Vhalla felt more herself than she had in a long time. It wasn’t the same self she’d been the last time she’d worn the clothes. She was different now. Part Serien, part Vhalla, and part a woman who was still emerging.
Elecia waited until Vhalla was done before speaking again, barely audible. “By the way, Aldrik asked me to get this to you.” Elecia held out a small vial. If Vhalla didn’t know better, she’d think it was poison given the nearly murderous glint in the Western woman’s eyes. Vhalla took it hesitantly, raising her eyebrows and waiting for an explanation.
“Elixir of the Moon,” Elecia explained, frowning. Comprehension chased skepticism from Vhalla’s brow. “It’s for—”
“I know what it’s for.” Vhalla grinned at Elecia. The other woman’s cheeks flushed, and Vhalla realized that the noble had yet to have a reason to take the potion herself. Vhalla had only had one real occasion to prior, but she hoped the potion Elecia made tasted better than the sewage she’d forced down before.
It didn’t, and Vhalla grimaced sourly.
“You’ve had it before?” Elecia was too surprised to keep decorum.
“Twice, one man.” Vhalla nodded.
“Low-born Easterners with their affections,” Elecia mumbled. “Does Aldrik know?”
“Of course he does.” She was offended. Did Elecia really think Vhalla wouldn’t tell Aldrik that?
The curly-haired woman shook her head. “Be careful with him, Vhalla.” Elecia glanced over at Fritz to make sure the Southerner was still sleeping. “His heart isn’t as strong as he’d like people to think it is. He’s not actually made of stone and fire.”
Vhalla didn’t know why she was compelled to touch the other woman, but her hand grabbed Elecia’s forearm reassuringly. Aldrik’s cousin met her eyes and searched. “I know he’s not. That’s one of the many reasons why I love him.”
Both Vhalla and Elecia turned as the tent pole vibrated from a few knocks.
“‘Cia,” Jax said softly. “Is Vhalla there?”
“I am.” Vhalla moved to repack her clothes when a glint of silver caught her eye.
Jax stuck his head into the tent, crouching on the outside. “You have someone worried about you.”
“I bet I do,” Vhalla agreed tiredly.
“Where were you?” It suddenly dawned on Elecia that Vhalla wasn’t where the other woman had assumed her to be: Aldrik’s bed.
“I got put on patrol.” Vhalla rolled her eyes, fishing out the dark fabric at the bottom of her pack.
“Who put you on patrol?” Elecia seemed surprised.
“Doesn’t matter.” Vhalla shook her head, deciding it was best to ignore the Western major who seemed to hold a grudge against her for no reason. The man was likely just trying to glean favors from the Emperor. Their leader’s distaste for Vhalla was becoming more apparent by the day, and she had no doubt that a sum of gold may be given to someone who made Vhalla’s life miserable.
She ran her fingers over the silver stitching that affixed a piece of the wing design sewn onto the back of the cloak her doppelganger had worn. This was the last cloak; the other two had been lost when their wearers had fallen.
“Well, he’s called you for breakfast.” Jax didn’t need to explain who he was.
“I’ll come too.” Elecia was quick on Vhalla’s heels as they left the tent.
Fritz groaned and rolled over, sleeping on.
“He’ll likely need another round of potions. And if he was worrying ...” Elecia glanced between Jax and Vhalla, biting on her thumbnail lightly. “Likely something for his head, too.”
“It wasn’t too many cups. I already took care of that.” Jax waved the notion away.
Vhalla stared at the rolled up cloak a moment longer, debating if she should put it back or not. It would be a rather bold statement to wear. But there was a deep satisfaction at the idea of the Emperor seeing her wear it. She would don the thing he had used to take her name.
As the cloak unrolled, Elecia let out a soft gasp. Jax’s eyes narrowed. And Vhalla gripped the garment tightly.
A deep gash started from the middle of the silver wing that was emblazoned upon it. It tore through the fabric before being joined by other slashes. It was as though someone had taken a dagger to the cloak, tearing it to ribbons from the chest downward.
“Where did you get that?” Jax asked darkly.
Vhalla stared in dull shock at the strips of black. Had it been Tim? The girl had seemed so friendly. She’d walked and chatted with Vhalla for half the night.