“Do you just oblige me?” Aldrik asked coolly.
Vhalla laughed. “Of course not. I enjoy being near you, hearing your thoughts, spending time with you. You’re one of the best things that have ever happened to me.” Vhalla smiled at him, and she saw the prince relax. How had she never realized how insecure he was?
“You’re so funny. Do I oblige you? Aldrik, I—” Vhalla stopped herself, her smile slipping in the wake of a revelation. “—I—”
Love you.
That’s what her mind wanted to say, and it hit her harder than the sandstorm.
“You?” He let the word hang expectantly.
Vhalla inhaled sharply. “I ...”
It was hopeless; she was hopeless. She loved him, and she couldn’t deny it anymore. One look had spurred her to race to a likely death on the notion of saving him. Now that she realized it, she realized how long she’d been hopelessly falling for this infuriating, charming, enigma of a man.
“Well, I ...” Vhalla met those dark black eyes. All the moments of his gaze came back to her in a flood of emotion. She remembered a night forever ago when he had held her with his stare alone in the library, pulling her from a dream. Vhalla remembered gazing into them as he’d held her during the gala, how she’d wanted him. She remembered waking up to them, more than once now, and wanting to see nothing more every time she roused.
“I really, truly ...” Vhalla reached out and touched his cheek lightly. His gaze had turned serious, and his breathing was shallower. Her stomach twisted in a knot. She could never, she would never, should never, have this man. And, for once, Vhalla gave into the alarms in her head.
“I love to be someone you consider your friend.”
Aldrik considered her for a long moment. His lips parted slightly and his eyes scanned her face. Vhalla wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Aldrik inhaled sharply, opened his mouth. Vhalla’s heart skipped two beats. He deflated and avoided her expectant stare.
“You should get ready to meet Father,” he said softly. Aldrik stood and adjusted his double-breasted coat without so much as a glance back at her. “I will return in thirty minutes.”
Vhalla tried to get in another word but the door had already closed behind him. She drew a quivering breath. “I love you, Aldrik,” she whispered into the silent air. The next breath was shakier than the last, the breath after was stuck in her throat with a pained whimper that she could only dislodge by releasing the tears.
Vhalla balled her hands into fists and buried her eyes in them. She had to compose herself; this was not the place or time to lose her wits over being in love with the crown prince.
First, she attempted denial. It wasn’t possibly love. She’d almost died, and he’d held her, he’d given her comfort. She was just clinging to him in an emotional state. Vhalla laughed with a hiccup and a rasp. She wasn’t sure if she had ever loved before, but she knew that this was it.
Then she tried to blame it on the Bond or the Joining. Clearly, it had affected both of them in multiple ways that was barely understood. It was creating something out of nothing. It had always been there as long as she had known him.
No, for as little she knew about the Bond academically, Vhalla was confident in her feeling of it. She felt the extension of herself into him, the calm his proximity brought from having that piece near her again. The Bond was a door, a window, a Channel; it didn’t alter them, it just gave them access to what lay beyond in the other. It let the truths they tried to keep hidden be exposed.
Finally, she attempted reason. Vhalla assured herself that it was simply a result of spending so much time with him on the march. Even Prince Baldair mentioned the needs one will have naturally. She saw him every day, he was her teacher, and it was easy to develop feelings for someone in such a position. Vhalla looked down at her palms. It wasn’t just the march.