Vhalla sat with him until his breathing slowed and his body relaxed. Her fingers remained entwined with his, and she watched him sleep. Maybe they would never again be the lovers they were—maybe they’d become something better. They’d both grown apart, and maybe they’d grown into the people they should’ve been all along.
Love was a simple emotion, Vhalla had learned. Once one experienced it, a person understood it, and there was no doubt when one felt it. If there was no doubt, then nothing would ever serve as a substitute.
Vhalla knew she understood love. Love was throwing herself into a sandstorm. Love was braving her darkest fears and battling her demons. Love was a blind dash through a Northern jungle. Love was hopeful words shared across a pillow in the darkness. Love was bravery and—perhaps most importantly—forgiveness.
VHALLA AWOKE BRIEFLY as her body was pulled against Aldrik’s chest. She felt his arm slide around her shoulders, the other slip under her knees. The sensation of weightlessness fluttered across her stomach as he hoisted her easily into the air.
With her head tucked in the crook of his neck, he carried her from where she had fallen asleep at her post in Baldair’s room into the main sitting area. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she had underestimated her continuing exhaustion from extensive crystal work. At least she was a light sleeper and could have easily woken to action if Baldair had a fit or needed something.
Aldrik laid her down gently. Vhalla smelled him against the pillow and nuzzled her face into it. A blanket, still warm from his body, was gingerly lifted over her form and tucked around her. Her hand reached upward and found his, in a complete reversal of how they had been earlier.
He stopped all movement and intertwined his fingers with hers once more. Vhalla wasn’t certain exactly what every touch meant yet, but she knew how they made her feel. She knew all the wrongs in the world that seemed to be bearable by knowing he was near her once more. The unsettled sickness, one that had plagued her stomach so long that it had begun to feel natural, finally quieted.
Slipping his long fingers into her hair, Aldrik stroked her head gently. Vhalla nuzzled deeper into the warmth and comfort that surrounded her. Eventually his motion ceased, and she felt his hands pull away.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured in sleep.
“If it pleases,” his voice was deep and throaty when he whispered, and Vhalla smiled tiredly at the sound as much as the words. His fingers returned to her hair, and she sighed contently, remembering every time on the march she had fallen asleep to the feeling after practicing her Projection.
Vhalla drifted back into a deep slumber without ever opening her eyes.
Coughing woke her, and she peered between her eyelashes. The brightness of the room pulled her into wakefulness, jolting her upright in a moment. Looking around, her panic was briefly quelled by the absence of anyone else in the room. It was certainly past sunrise, but the world was still quiet. She carefully folded the blanket and placed it at the end of the couch, resting the pillow on top.
More coughing accompanied her steps toward the bedroom. Aldrik sat at the bedside looking rather determined with a spoon in one hand and a bowl in the other. Baldair wore a stubborn glare. She rolled her eyes at the scene before her.
“I told him he needs to eat.” Aldrik glanced at her. She saw a glint of amusement in his eyes at the familiar sight of her trying to tame her morning hair. “Vhalla, your mask.”
“Your brother is right, Baldair.” Vhalla yawned and pulled the fabric from around her neck to her nose and mouth. “You told me you’d eat everything.”
“Vhalla?” Baldair’s shoulders lurched as he continued to cough. “I don’t recall giving you permission to sleep in my room.”
“She stayed on order of the crown prince,” Aldrik proclaimed with mock haughtiness. “You said it yourself, you have a new cleric.” His dark eyes flicked back to her, and Vhalla shook her head in amusement.
“Don’t tell me.” Shades of a healthy Baldair returned as he wheezed for breath. “You two did the do on my couch.”
Aldrik visibly paled, Baldair smirked, and Vhalla’s laughter rang out throughout the room.
“If by ‘the do,’ you mean slept. Yes, we did.” Baldair blinked at her as she crossed to her place at the edge of his bed. “And before you get any ideas or form any assumptions, it was not at the same time.”
Vhalla grabbed a roll of bread off the table—Aldrik had continued to make safe choices with food. She tore off a hunk and, as Baldair opened his mouth for some retort, she unceremoniously shoved in the mass of food. Baldair looked at her in shock as he was forced to chew through the soft piece of bread.
“Now eat, oh golden prince.” She grinned.
“Don’t—” Baldair chewed. “Don’t think that when I’m well—” He coughed again. “—I won’t get you back for these indiscretions against the crown.”