Vhalla remembered Victor’s notebook. It was all true.
“Egmun knew. Of course, he knew. The man knew everything, even beyond what was written in books. If there was a secret whispered on someone’s lips, it would find its way to him. Maybe that’s why he’s the perfect—in all the worst ways—Head of Senate now. He knew of my mother, of her sacrifice. He knew it was her magic that sealed the caverns.
“He went to the caverns and tried to unlock it himself. He was a gifted sorcerer, but he wasn’t strong enough. The magic of the barrier rejected him.”
“But it wouldn’t reject you.” She understood what happened with horrific clarity. Magic wasn’t in the blood, but she remembered Gianna explaining how there was something about magic passed through families.
“Egmun had procured the sword, he had me. Victor was no longer needed.” Aldrik clenched his fists, barring his teeth in anger. “He took me to the caverns with our sacrifice. He paid the blood toll, but it wasn’t enough. The man we killed was simply a Commons, so it was rejected.
“Everything went wrong. The delicate stasis of the crystals was thrown out of balance by my actions, letting the power seep into the world. It unleashed taint into our world, reaching out eagerly to corrupt as quickly as possible.” Aldrik’s voice weakened. “I rode back through the rain and told my father everything. That I’d damned our people and cursed our kingdom. He sent soldiers, but they were no match and became tainted monsters, spreading the taint further. I told my father, I told him I wasn’t fit to be a ruler . . .”
Vhalla sat suddenly, staring at Aldrik. Suddenly the rainy night of a boy taking a knife to his skin made sense. “Don’t say it. I know.”
“It was my fault,” he whispered.
“No,” she said firmly. “It was Egmun’s fault. You were only a boy.”
“My father was of the same inclination.” The prince sat again also, keeping his fingers intertwined with hers. “He told Egmun to seal the caverns, whatever price had to be paid was not nearly enough. But should Egmun be successful, he would be pardoned. He went back to the caverns, and he lived up to his word. At first, the lingering magic of my mother’s barrier rejected him, and I ended up being forced to help him establish a new barrier in the structure of the old one.”
“That’s why he doesn’t have magic anymore,” she realized. The minister had given up his power to restore the barrier.
“After that, Egmun was awarded his life and a position on the Senate for holding his tongue about how the crown prince had started the War of the Crystal Caverns,” he murmured.
“I realized I was a bad person to be around. I caused countless deaths. I let evil, true evil, into the world.” Aldrik pressed his palms into his eyes. “My life, from then on, was built around a lie. A lie that I was not some monster who, had I not been the crown prince, would have been put to death. A lie that I was still a prince worthy of the crown that rested upon my head. So I became the prince of lies. I embraced being the black sheep. Perhaps I thought eventually it would make my father see I wasn’t fit for the throne. I still have never been punished properly for the weight of my crimes.”
He finally ran out of words, and the sound of his unsteady breathing filled the room. Emotions assaulted her one after the next: shock, horror, anger, pain. Half a dozen more rose in her as she stared at the man quietly suffering before her.
“You must hate me,” Aldrik said softly. “Now that you know me, truly know me, you must hate me.” He continued before she could get a word in, “I should’ve told you so long ago. But I was too selfish; I knew I’d lose you if I did.”
“I’m still here,” she whispered after a long moment. Aldrik stilled, his breathing becoming shallow so he could hang on her every word. “I do not hate you. And I know if you had told Baldair, he would have felt the same as I. He would not have hated you for this. You have punished yourself enough, more than enough; stop blaming yourself for crimes long past, whatever role you may or may not have had in them.”
“Vhalla,” he whispered weakly.
She gripped his hand tightly and pulled him to her. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed him close. “I could never hate you.”
Aldrik buried his face back into her chest and upper shoulder, much like he had before. Though this time, there were far fewer tears, far fewer emotions wracking his body. Then again, perhaps too many emotions were coursing through him that he was simply stunned numb. Either way, she held him gently, trying to offer him as much reassurance as she could.
“I feel better,” he confessed.
“Do you?”
“Better being relative,” he sighed. “But yes.”
“For a prince of lies, you seem to enjoy the truth.” Vhalla smiled weakly. He huffed in amusement. She relished that somehow; he had found the eye of the storm.
“I’m tired.”
“Me, too.”