“I have no doubt. Elecia’s being forced to be a puppet right now. No matter what she may think of my stealing you into my room, if there’s one thing Elecia would hate more, it would be being someone else’s puppet.”
“What will your father do?” Vhalla’s head hurt from all the crying the night before, from the grief, from panic.
“I don’t know, and I don’t have enough time to figure it out,” Aldrik said with a curse.
If there was one thing the Gods did for them that day, it was keeping the hallways bare of observers. Though Vhalla had no idea how it would matter if someone did. Clerics had surely already been talking of the crown prince stealing away the Windwalker in a fit of grief. There were likely already rumors running rampant through the castle about the future Emperor’s infidelity with his favored whore. She grimaced at herself for even thinking what was certainly the gritty truth.
They stopped before the highest door in the Tower. Aldrik slipped the key into the lock and affirmed all her suspicions that these were the secondary quarters of the crown prince.
Braziers around the room sprung to life with a wave of his hand, casting long shadows beneath the sparse furniture. There was a table and two chairs placed toward the center. Along the back wall were, unsurprisingly, shelves of books and cabinets of curiosities. There was a small bed pushed to the left corner, a door next to it. Another door led off somewhere to the right of the room. The few windows were covered with heavy black curtains. It wasn’t a large space, perhaps three of her personal quarters, and everything had a slightly stagnant and dusty smell to it.
“Your Tower chambers.”
“Yes, and they only have one exit or entry.” He pressed the key into her palm. “This is the only key. I need you to lock that door behind me and let no one in. If someone comes and knows you are in here, ignore whatever they say and ask them what is most beautiful just before it dies.”
“What is most beautiful just before it dies?” she repeated, committing it to memory.
“A rose,” he answered softly. “If they do not respond with that, do not let them in—even if it is me. No matter what else they do or say, do not open the door.” Aldrik swallowed. “And if someone forces entry, jump.”
“What is going to happen next?” Vhalla tried to anticipate his thoughts and plans, to make some of her own. Everything was moving too quickly, and the world was still in flux from Baldair’s death.
“I don’t know.” Aldrik pulled her to him suddenly. “I wasn’t thinking. I haven’t been thinking. I don’t have a plan. I don’t know what will happen. I haven’t calculated how likely certain courses of action are. I don’t know, Vhalla, so I will plan for the worst.”
“Let me help you.” She pried herself away from the warm safety of his embrace.
“I will, but first I have to go and find out how the pieces are moving.” His palms were on her cheeks. “I will take you away myself, if I must. For now, just hide.”
“But—”
“Elecia will run out of that stupid story soon, if not already. When she does, she may be able to buy more time but, damn it, they may be knocking down my door already.” Aldrik shook his head and pressed his forehead against hers. Vhalla swallowed. All this because he took solace with her in his moment of grief? Would his father really go so far? “Stay here, stay safe. I will come back to you as soon as I can.”
The door clicked closed behind him, and Vhalla was left alone in the room.
She shivered as her bare feet stumbled across the stone to the door. Vhalla turned the lock with her shaking fingers and drew an unsteady breath. The world kept spinning, her head was thundering, and her heart would not relent in its panicked flutter.
Vhalla sunk to the floor, staring at the small room. She was trapped like an animal backed into a corner. Even Aldrik was terrified, and he’d brought her to what was possibly the most secure place he had. He relied on his skill, the Tower, and time to keep her safe. But if all that failed, she had no idea what fate awaited her.
“Baldair, this is all your fault.” Vhalla pressed her eyes closed and refrained from shouting at ghosts. She curled into a ball and buried her face in her knees, just focusing on breathing.
Her eyes were jolted open again when a knock sounded on the door at her back. Exhaustion had somehow won out, and she had no idea how long she’d dozed. Vhalla struggled to rouse.
“Open the door?”
The voice gave her pause. “What is most beautiful before it dies?”
“A rose,” Fritz answered, barely loud enough for her to hear.
Vhalla scrambled to her feet and snapped the lock open. Fritz entered quickly and stopped just within, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, as Vhalla closed the door behind him. The small sack he’d brought fell to the floor as Vhalla pulled him in for a tight embrace.