“Take it up with the crown prince.” She tore off another piece and forced it into the younger prince’s mouth with a satisfied grin at his frustration. “I hear he has a wicked temper.”
“Oh, I am certain there could be a fitting punishment administered.” Aldrik crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, content to let her assume the duty of feeding his brother.
Vhalla glanced at him from the corners of her eyes, a sly smile hidden by the mask at the coy nature of the crown prince in a good mood.
“Getting sick will be the death of me,” Baldair cleared his throat.
“Don’t say that,” she insisted gently.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” The prince coughed, barely managing to keep the food down. “I only meant it in that my being sick has clearly reunited you both, and that is a fact that may be detrimental to my health for many years to come. And I don’t need to be fed like some invalid.”
Baldair rolled his eyes and snatched the bowl and spoon from her hands. He coughed and sputtered, spilling some. Vhalla stood to clean it up, and Aldrik did the same. He passed her a cloth rag from the table next to Baldair’s bed for his coughing. Their fingers touched briefly. Vhalla looked up at the dark haired prince, their eyes met, and her heart did a strange beat.
Saying nothing, she turned and cleaned up the small spill, ignoring the embarrassment of an apologetic Baldair. She smiled tiredly at the younger prince. Nothing could possibly happen to Baldair, she mentally insisted. He was too well cared for and too strong.
“You should go, Vhalla.”
“So soon?” Baldair objected like a child. “Can’t we just say I invited her?”
“Brother, it’s for the best. Her presence would raise too many questions.” Aldrik glanced at her. “I don’t want us to make her life difficult.”
Vhalla knew it was for the best, but at the same time, she was done hiding what she wanted. She simply had to figure out her next move alongside Aldrik. A similar turmoil was written on the prince’s face, and Vhalla knew there would be words over what their future would hold sooner rather than later.
“Tonight?” she proposed. “Could I come back after the clerics have left?”
“That’s—” Baldair digressed into coughing that cut all words short. He was forced to simply nod.
“Tonight then,” Aldrik agreed.
“Perhaps we could play carcivi.” She was certain the prince could have a dozen carcivi boards crafted and delivered before the day was out if he didn’t already have one. “Something to stimulate your mind a bit.”
“It’s better than Aldrik’s suggestions of books.”
Vhalla laughed. “Well then, carcivi it is. I’ll be back to beat you wickedly, so eat your food, drink your potions, and get rest. I don’t want to let you have the excuse of illness for your loss.”
“Ha! We will see who beats who!”
“We should go.” Aldrik’s palm fell on the small of her back. “Before the clerics come.”
“See you, Baldair.” Vhalla gave him a small wave as Aldrik closed the door behind them. She crossed over to the bar that had been turned into a medical supply stand and removed her mask completely. “He seems better.”
“He usually is after company,” Aldrik agreed.
“The Golden Guard?” she guessed and Aldrik affirmed. “You should send for them, then. I think they are quite worried.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Aldrik mumbled.
Vhalla beamed brightly, for in Aldrik language, that meant he was about to throw around the weight of the scary crown prince on his brother’s behalf.
“Wait a moment.”
Holding up his hand, he cracked open the door and took a glance down the hallway. Aldrik opened the door halfway, gliding across to his own room. He fit a key into the lock and unlocked it with a soft click. One more glance, and he was motioning for her to join him. Vhalla eased closed Baldair’s door and slipped into the safety of Aldrik’s haven as he shut out the world.
In the daytime, she could appreciate the stunning nature of his quarters. Vhalla looked up, and she lost all breath. A staircase wound up the far wall to a landing that looped around the circular room. There were more staircases and ladders leading up to additional landings and levels of books. She looked up into the roof area of one of the golden spires she had admired from below so many times, only to discover that it held Aldrik’s personal library.
“Aldrik,” she breathed, walking into the room. The white marble floor was covered with a large, circular black rug that almost took up the whole space. There were two leather chaises near a couch that was reminiscent of the Crossroads and a desk with chairs to the right side. “This is yours?”
“It is.” His expression was unreadable.
“It’s—” she fumbled for words. Vhalla felt dizzy at the notion. Aldrik took a step forward to stand at her shoulder, holding his breath for her review. “Amazing.”
“Would you like to see the rest of it?” he asked softly.