That wasn’t, but how Vhalla had acted was. “I’m sorry also for snapping at you.” She did her best to keep eye contact with Larel, but shame eventually won out and Vhalla avoided the other woman’s gaze. “I didn’t mean it, I was just, I was exhausted and—” Vhalla swallowed her stalling “—Larel, you’re my friend. I couldn’t have done this without you. I wouldn’t have survived this long without you.”
Vhalla choked on emotion. It was true. If it weren’t for everything Larel had done and was continuing to do for her, Vhalla would have been alone. Sure, Aldrik was helping her and he could bring Vhalla as much joy as he could frustration. But things were strange there, because of their own hesitations and the world’s expectations. In comparison, the bond Larel had built with Vhalla was perfectly simple.
Larel’s hand closed around Vhalla’s tightly. “Don’t think on it any longer,” Larel said finally. “I forgive you.”
Vhalla took a shaky breath, clinging to Larel’s palm.
“You are more than a protégé to me, you know. You are a dear friend.” The Western woman ran a hand through Vhalla’s hair lovingly. “I don’t have many friends.”
“I never did either,” Vhalla laughed weakly.
“Aldrik was one of my first friends.” The prince’s name from anyone’s mouth gained Vhalla’s attention, and Larel said it even more easily than Vhalla could. “You shared your secret with the prince. I’ll share mine.”
“You don’t have to.” Vhalla could sense an unfamiliar aura around Larel, one of discomfort.
“I know.” The woman smiled. “But I want you to know I trust you as you trust me.” Larel shifted, her eyes growing distant. “I suppose nothing will make sense unless I start at the very beginning. I came from a very poor family in a small town called Qui.”
“I don’t know it,” Vhalla confessed.
“You wouldn’t, not unless you’ve studied Western mining. Qui is a town around halfway to Norin. At least, if you took the old routes before the Great Imperial Way was extended. Back then many would stop through for supplies or to rest horses.” Larel rolled onto her back, her fingers only lightly entwined with Vhalla’s.
“It’s a town that’s full of more shit than a cow pie.” The woman was uncharacteristically bitter. “My father was a miner who never amounted to anything other than turning alcohol to piss. My mother was a broken woman, and all I think she could do was stare into space, especially after my father hit her.”
Vhalla blinked in a stunned silence.
“There was no money, no future, and no joy there. Mother help me, I hated that shack they called home. One day, I was five, maybe six? My father brought home a man I’d never seen. He said that the man would give us all the money we needed and all I had to do was be a good girl and do as I was told.” Larel placed her forearm on her forehead, staring at something far beyond the canvas above them.
“I didn’t understand until I was alone with that man. I screamed, I cried, and no one came. In that moment, I just wanted them all to die.” Larel sighed softly. Vhalla could hardly process what the woman was implying. “They found me sitting among the ashen remains of that home. I don’t think I mourned once.” She turned back to face Vhalla. “That was when I first Manifested. I was just a child, and a sorceress at that. So I was given to the mines. Every day I was lowered into a hole. I dug and dug. Or made fires, melted things away, or whatever else I could do.”
“I’m sorry,” Vhalla whispered. Those two words didn’t seem to even come close to enough.
“This was a different life, Vhalla.” Larel shrugged. “Honestly, the mines paid me a copper for every day I worked. It was enough to buy dinner, and I slept in empty storage sheds.” Larel returned onto her back, her eyes glassed over with memories. “Then one day there was an Imperial company riding through. The Emperor himself was there, and they made a stop to rest their mounts and resupply their stock. I’d never seen anything as amazing as the gilded carriages and horses covered in dyed leathers.
“The Emperor said he wanted a tour of the mines. They were headed to Norin but Emperor Solaris knew our mine was one of the West’s primary silver veins and he was kind enough to at least feign an interest. Aldrik was there.”
Vhalla struggled to envision what a child-Aldrik would look like without his adult demeanor and presence.
“He was twelve and every inch the prince—even then. He followed his father around the mines dutifully. But he was still a child, and eventually he wandered on his own, well, with a guard. Though no one in the West would ever hurt him. He’s one of the West’s own, after all. I saw him making some fires to play with. I’d never seen another person like me.” Larel laughed softly.