Water's Wrath (Air Awakens Series Book 4) (31 page)

Vhalla remained as Baldair spoke, cleaning up the blood and helping the clerics shift the prince as he needed. She heard the story of the first time he went riding with his father. She saw the Emperor affectionately put a hand on his son’s shoulder. She bore witness to the Heartbreaker Prince apologizing to his mother for never feeling like settling down with any woman she approved of.

Baldair told them everything a son could say to their parents, and then some. He made confessions. He reminisced. He told them of his love.

But something was still missing
.

“Can Aldrik please come, just for a moment?” she asked softly. “He should be here.”

“No,” the Emperor’s voice responded sternly. “The health of the
crown prince
cannot be risked.”

“Just for a moment, please.” Vhalla looked at the blue-eyed man across from her. She braced herself to go against what she believed, that appealing to his humanity was foolish. “He’s your son. He’s Baldair’s brother. He should be—he
needs
to be here. Don’t do this to him. Don’t make him live without this moment.”

The Emperor regarded her thoughtfully.

“My Lord Solaris, this isn’t about you or me.” She remembered how adamantly the man had gone against her on principle in the North. “This is only about your sons.”

“Bring Aldrik in,” he commanded suddenly. “But only for a moment.”

Baldair looked at his father in shock, and Vhalla gave a breath of relief. A cleric left and returned soon after with a cautiously stunned Aldrik in tow.

“My prince.” The cleric paused their step a bit away from the bed as Vhalla was about to stand and give him her chair. “Do not go any closer, for your health.”

“Baldair.” Aldrik managed. His voice sounded as though he’d been screaming for hours, even though the man hadn’t said a word.

“Aldrik.” Baldair struggled to sit higher.

“Always the center of attention, aren’t you?”

Vhalla heard the crack of emotion to the crown prince’s voice.

“Annoying little brother, ‘til the end.”

“You are stronger than this,” Aldrik admonished.

“I know,” Baldair wheezed. “I am, aren’t I? Isn’t that what’s frustrating about it all?”

“You don’t lose,” Aldrik insisted.

“Not normally.” Baldair had a tired grin again. “Brother, I never got to finish paying back what I owe to you.”

“You are debt free.” Aldrik shifted his hands awkwardly as though he was trying to keep from fidgeting. “Get better, that’s all I ask.”

“We should go, my prince.” The cleric turned at a nod from the Emperor.

“Aldrik!” Baldair struggled to sit fully upright. The dark haired prince turned and looked at his younger brother. They couldn’t be more different while still needing the same things. “Aldrik, I love you, brother. I always have, even if I’ve been awful about it.”

There was a pregnant silence, one that Vhalla wanted to scream over at the unmoving crown prince. This was a moment that would live with him forever.

“I love you, too, Baldair,” Aldrik managed. It was awkward and forced.

Vhalla’s lips pressed together in a heartbreaking smile under her mask.

And the crown prince was ushered away.

The day turned to night, and Aldrik was not allowed back again. Vhalla tried everything she knew about medicine, from real life experience to what she’d read in books. She tried different ways of positioning him or pacing potions with food. She questioned the clerics on everything. But there was one thing that haunted her the whole day.

“Vhalla, thank you, for staying by my side.” His voice was little more than a breathless whisper. She knew the words were coming. “But I am tired now. I would like to rest.”

“No,” she choked out.
Nothing was working
. The inevitable truth that she had known from the moment she walked in the door crashed down around her. “You can’t . . . I won’t let you . . .”

“You tried so hard; you always do. You didn’t give up, even when everyone else had.” His hand found its way to her cheek. Vhalla didn’t care that blood smeared along with his touch. “Please, keep trying. Don’t give up. This world needs you, I feel it.”

“Baldair, no.” She was choking on her words again. “Let’s talk—”

“Fine.” He sighed softly, settling into his pillows. “Tell me about your home in the East.”

“It’s so boring, you don’t want to hear that.” Her forced laughter had a sharp edge, almost crazed.

“I do. Please?” he encouraged.

Vhalla sighed, stroking his hand with her thumbs. All she could think about in that oppressing moment was her mother, and Vhalla told him the story of the token her mother and she had crafted one year together, a token to bring a good harvest. They’d put their hearts and souls into making it before burying it in the field.

Baldair closed his eyes, and she stopped the moment she noticed.

“Baldair, you can’t fall asleep. I agreed because you were going to listen.” Vhalla nudged his shoulder. Her heart stopped and fell from her chest. “Baldair,” she repeated. “
Baldair
.”

The Emperor and Empress were on their feet. Clerics rushed in. She was finally, and literally, pushed aside. Vhalla looked at his lifeless form, at the soulless visage of the golden prince.

“Don’t go,” she whispered to the golden-haired man, stumbling a few steps backward. The clerics were talking, but she didn’t hear them. It was just wind in her ears. They were wiping blood from her hands and face and clothes,
so much blood
, but all Vhalla saw was the Empress burying her sobs in her hands as the Emperor took her into his arms. “Don’t go . . .”

Vhalla turned and stumbled for the door numbly.
She couldn’t save him
. He died, just as her mother had. She was helpless to change it. Her destiny was full of horrible history repeating itself, and her being forced to watch as it happened.

The princess still lingered, reading in a chair away from the group. Vhalla instantly despised the woman for her casual demeanor and relaxed expression. Her emerald eyes rose. Vhalla looked away quickly to hide her hate.

Aldrik was on his feet by the time their eyes met. Vhalla struggled with her mask, casting it aside. The clerics continued to struggle to get the blood off her, with mixed success.
Noise, it was all noise
. Aldrik’s eyes bore into her.

Vhalla broke under their weight.

“Aldrik, I-I-I am so sorry.” Her sobs came. Vhalla covered her mouth with her hand and hung her head. She fought for control. He needed her to be strong.
She had to be
.

Aldrik swayed, he stumbled. He hovered in the limbo that was living after death, a cage that was crafted by grief and imprisoned the heart. She heard a choked noise rise from his throat. Her head snapped up, and she looked up at him. His face twisted in torment. He struggled to keep his breathing under control.

Aldrik grabbed her hand and, before anyone could say anything, bolted for the door. Vhalla’s eyes caught the princess as the girl’s future husband dragged another woman from the room. Aldrik’s hand was already in his pocket for a key. His door across the hall was unlocked in a breath. He pulled her in and locked it again behind them, shutting out the world.

Aldrik let her go, and he brought the palms of his hands to his eyes. He leaned against the door and slid down into a ball on the floor. Vhalla’s own tears left rivulets down both her cheeks, falling onto the floor at his feet. His shoulders began to shudder.

“
No
,” he whimpered. “Baldair, you, no,
you idiot
!”

Aldrik’s voice cracked and broke. The tears came freely, and she watched as he allowed his composure to shatter. Vhalla turned, placing her back against the hard wood of the door, and slid down to meet him. There was no thought or second-guessing as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled her prince to her.

At first, he was a tense ball. But slowly his arms wrapped themselves around her waist. His head found her chest, situated away from the blood, and Aldrik sobbed into her as Vhalla cried softly into his hair.

They did not move from their spot. Not for the commotion that was being raised in the other room. Not for the footsteps that were in the hall. Not even for the Emperor’s angry cries and banging on the door at their backs.

It all only made them cling tighter to each other.

“A
LDRIK
.” T
HERE WAS
more banging from the Emperor. “We will not make a scene of this. Open the door.”

Vhalla clutched the prince’s shoulders protectively. His face was pressed firmly against her upper chest and shoulder. She shifted, wrapping a leg around his.

“Grief can be maddening,” the Emperor attempted coolly. “I am certain your
future wife
would be happy to console you.”

Vhalla knew from the moment Aldrik had grabbed her that they were headed toward this moment. Vhalla took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of eucalyptus.
He had chosen her
. And it had been a deliberate and public choice. Now, they would reap the consequences together.

Aldrik drew a slow breath.

“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t.” Vhalla whispered through her ragged breathing. “Just don’t say anything.”

Aldrik obliged.

They both jumped as the Emperor banged aggressively at the door behind them. Vhalla put her hands over his ears.
Let him be
, she thought to herself.
Let him be
, she prayed to the Mother above. If there was a Goddess or God, surely, they had to take pity on the grieving man she held in her arms.

Eventually, when shouting a few more times did not work, the Emperor stalked away. Silence did not greet them in his absence. Preparations were being made; she could hear the clerics calling to each other for cleaning, cleansing, and the handling of the body. Aldrik’s shoulders heaved; he let out a rough sob.
Nothing else but the prince in her arms mattered right now.

“Baldair,” he panted softly. “My
little brother
, Vhalla, he’s dead. I wasn’t supposed to outlive him. I was supposed to be on my deathbed when he also was wrinkled and gray.”

Vhalla rubbed her eyes with her palm. His pain was worse than hers, which meant she had to be the strong one now. She had to be in control of herself.

“I was awful to him,” Aldrik sobbed. “I-I never, I never forgave him for so much. It didn’t matter, Vhalla. I don’t care about it all now.”

“I’m sure he knew,” she whispered softly, trying to find some stability in her voice.

“No,” Aldrik shook his head; she made a soft
shh
ing noise. “He knew nothing. He knew nothing because I told him nothing. It wasn’t because he wouldn’t understand, or because it was safer for him not to know, or because he didn’t care, or any of the other reasons I told myself.

“It was because I simply did not tell him. I was too scared or too weak to let Baldair know that he was foremost my brother. That I loved him.” Aldrik pressed his face further into her. His forehead was uncomfortable against her collarbone, but she said nothing. “He never knew why I wore black. He never knew how badly I just wanted to
be him
, just for one moment. How jealous—by the Mother—I was jealous of my little brother for all the love and admiration he seemed to just have from birth. He never knew that I attempted . . . he never knew why . . .” Aldrik’s voice cut itself off with a pained groan.

Vhalla ran her fingers through his hair, not caring that she was messing up the appearance he had so carefully crafted for himself.

“Baldair loved you,” she tried to soothe her crown prince’s broken heart. “Despite all what may or may not be, he loved you.”

“He did not know me,” Aldrik spat.

“He knew you were his brother, and that was worth more than anything,” Vhalla replied firmly.

Aldrik’s weak retort was lost to tears. Vhalla kept one hand in his hair, the other stroking his back lightly.
It hurt
, the world hurt. It hurt to look, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to see. It hurt to be in the place where Baldair had been only an hour before. It hurt to admit that he was gone, forever. His golden hair and charming demeanor were gone from their lives—that hurt the most.

Eventually, Aldrik began to pull away. She heard him choke down waves of grief before they could slip through his lips, and he straightened away from where they had lain intertwined on the floor.

“He-he can’t be dead.” Suddenly, the prince was laughing. “This is a joke. This is all a joke.”

“Aldrik, I saw it . . . he’s gone.” Vhalla reached out to smooth hair away from his face, but he jerked away at her touch.

“Don’t lie to me!” the prince snarled. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not lying,” she pleaded, trying to grab for his hand.

Aldrik was on his feet, leaving Vhalla to try to scramble after him. “I’m going to see him.” Aldrik stilled, muttering to himself, “I’m going to see him, and he’ll laugh at me for believing his grand joke.”

“Aldrik, he’s gone.”

“I told you not to say that!” Aldrik yelled.

Vhalla flinched at his tone, and the involuntary movement brought the sharpness of sanity back to his eyes.