Crystal Crowned [ARC] (11 page)

“Don’t come any closer or we’ll be forced to engage.” The man drew his sword. “Go on your own way and there needn’t be bloodshed.”

Elecia pressed forward, the man swung for her shoulder and the blade split open Elecia’s shirt, but it stopped hard with a ring against her stone skin. Elecia looked at the offending sword for a long moment, before turning her eyes back to her attacker. The man was startled into silence.

“I’ll tell the Lord Sevin to overlook that, if you do as we ask.” Elecia raised her head with a triumphant grin. “Now, take me to my father.”

Elecia was recognized not more than a few steps off the road. That was all it took. The soldiers leading them were suddenly wanting to make sure they accommodated every little thing the travelers asked for—
now that they realized they were in the presence of the Emperor.

A messenger reached the Lord Sevin before they did. He was already running as they approached the heart of the camp, the tent flaps fluttering behind him. Elecia dismounted, crossing to where her father was skidding to a stop.

“My girl,” he uttered in awe.

Vhalla immediately noticed two things about Sevin Ci’Dan. The first was that he didn’t seem much older than Aldrik. The second was that the two could almost be brothers by appearances alone. Aldrik’s mother, Fiera Ci’Dan, Western Princess, was the sister of Lord Ophain Ci’Dan, Sevin’s father. That would make Aldrik and him cousins, so the family resemblance made sense, Vhalla reasoned.

“
Fiarum evantes
,” Elecia spoke the Western greeting strong and proud.

“
Kotun un knox
,” her father replied.

They clasped forearms, and the man lowered his forehead to his daughter’s briefly. It was a restrained greeting and, compared to the Eastern embraces Vhalla was used to, she would expect it to seem cold. But there was true admiration in their movements, still waters ran deep here. It was different than what she knew, but the love remained.

“My Emperor.” The lord dropped to a knee.

“Sevin,” Aldrik spoke, dismounting. “No need for that. It is good to see you well.”

“I cannot say enough of the same.” The two men clasped forearms as well, an easy reunion between family members. “We heard you were dead.”

“My lady has a habit of cheating death.” Aldrik motioned to Vhalla. “She shared a bit of her luck this time.”

“Your . . . lady?” The man followed Aldrik’s hand to Vhalla.

“Vhalla Yarl,” she announced and dismounted.

“There is much to tell.” Sevin’s eyes looked across their group before turning to his men. “Take their horses, see them rubbed down and the dust off their coats. Bring dried dates, cohi, bread, and whatever perishables are freshest.”

They were ushered into the lord’s tent. It was large enough for a table, cot, and a number of personal affects. However, it was unlike Aldrik’s tent on the march. This had been set up with the intention of not being moved for some time.

“Are you in contact with your father?” Aldrik asked, sitting on one of the large pillows atop the hide that surrounded the low table.

“Regularly.” Sevin sat next to his daughter. “I will send word to him immediately.”

“I would like to include a personal letter.” Aldrik motioned for Vhalla to sit at his right hand, and she did so without hesitation. Fritz and Jax filled in the rest of their small circle. “He may think you’ve gone mad if it’s not in my hand.”

“Of course.” The lord paused as soldiers brought the requested foods. “Going mad is something that he may have suspected already, given the East’s nature.”

Vhalla cleared her throat, unappreciative of the tone of the last statement. “Why
are
you here?”

Sevin looked to Aldrik, confirming that she did, indeed, have the authority to ask outright. Aldrik stared expectantly.

“When the first messengers were received in Norin, they spoke of the fall of Solaris and demanded Father bend his knee and the West recognize King Victor’s rule.” He snorted, amused at the notion even recounting it. “Naturally, we killed the abominations and have begun to aggressively oppose the madman.

“But the East was unresponsive to our letters. We feared that they had already fallen or aligned with King Victor.”

“So he prepared to subdue the Eastern front as well,” Aldrik concluded.

Sevin nodded. “But we came to discover that the delay was only a result of one senator waiting to see if the other three had made it from the South alive.” He mumbled under his breath, “The fool.”

“What is the hesitation now, then?” Aldrik asked.

“You know the East; they don’t want to fight even if war is at their doorstep. They’re stalling to see if they can side with the winner and then belly up like they did with the Empire.”

“Doing so saved countless lives.” Vhalla frowned slightly. “The East knew they were beat, rather than fighting a ten-year war.”

The lord didn’t seem to appreciate her mention of Mhashan’s longer, but inevitable, fall to the Empire.

Vhalla sighed softly; divisions would get them nowhere. “But this is different,” she conceded. “This is not a force that can be reasoned with. This is a man beyond sense and logic. He will kill us all just because it would suit him to do so.”

“You have seen him.” The lord heard something in her tone that made his words a statement, rather than a question.

“I was the one to give him this corrupt strength.” Vhalla met his eyes, and the lord leaned backward involuntarily. “And I will be the one to take it away. I will be the one to kill him and end the blight of crystals once and for all.”

“What have you seen?”

Vhalla was the one to summarize their tale. She had earned the floor, and she kept it. Even Elecia kept her interjections minimal to only when Vhalla omitted an important detail.

“Terrible,” the lord breathed in horror when they had finished listing the events that led them to his tent. “We knew it was something wretched, but—this?”

“It will only worsen.” Vhalla balled her hands into fists. The phantom sensation of magic washed over her, her body creating the illusion of a Channel to meet her need for strength. “We must unite, and we must fight. Shaldan will fight on our side.”

“Shaldan?” He turned to Aldrik with his confusion. “How? I assumed that if—” Sevin’s eyes darted to Vhalla, struggling to make sense of what was before him, “—if your lady sat before me, then the Northern Princess had perished.”

“She did not.” Aldrik’s jaw was tight. “We made a deal for the sake of the continent.”

“I see.” He clearly did not, and he was deeply curious about the details, that much was apparent. But the lord’s upbringing won out, and he did not press. “Well, I am certain the West will praise your union with our Duchess with much fervor. And, for the time being, having an Eastern Empress will help us all.”

Vhalla swallowed hard and tried to make sense of the emotions that rushed through her at the thought. She’d barely become accustomed to Aldrik outright calling her his lady, and now she was to be called Empress. She was not groomed for the title, but Vhalla would do whatever she must to fit it.

“Not quite Empress, cousin,” Aldrik corrected, sensing Vhalla’s struggle.

“Oh?”

“We have yet to speak our devotion before the Mother Sun.”

“You wait for your throne to be restored?”

Vhalla stared on in confusion as Aldrik shook his head. His words echoed in her ears. “We will wed in Norin.”

In Norin?
He planned for them to wed not in months or years, or when his rule was restored, but mere weeks away? She’d been his lady openly for days, and now she was to be Empress by Gods and law in mere
weeks
?

“There will be a later time to speak nuptial details.” Aldrik stood, keenly aware of her turmoil and acting before it could burst from her. “For now, we will go speak with this Eastern senator.”

Fritz, Elecia, and Jax all opted to relax in the lord’s tent during Aldrik’s and Vhalla’s mission. Elecia reluctantly picked up on the notion that it was a matter better served by allowing the rulers to rule, but Fritz and Jax seemed all too eager to finally be out of the saddle and stuffing their faces with as much food as they could.

It suited Vhalla because it meant that the Lord Ci’Dan walked a few paces behind with his men, leaving Vhalla and Aldrik alone. She had to physically bite her tongue to keep the questions from spilling out. They didn’t get more than a few paces into camp toward Hastan when they came rushing forth.

“Norin? We will wed in Norin?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to run it by you.” He at least
sounded
honestly apologetic.

“You didn’t think running it by your bride would be important?” Vhalla gave her Emperor a small glare.

“Vhalla, now is not the time.”

“When will the time be? The next time we are speaking to a member of your family?” she muttered.

“Tonight.” He leaned forward, making it impossible for her not to meet his eyes. “Tonight, my Vhalla—”

“Your honeyed words have no effect on me, Emperor Solaris,” Vhalla lied.

The arrogant royal knew it, too, judging by the small smile he gave her. “I promise we will speak on it tonight.”

“If you promise,” she sighed, letting the topic go for the time being.

Hastan was quiet. Despite having more people, more shops, more buildings, more everything than all the small farm towns they’d travelled through, it was so quiet that the wind sounded loud. Vhalla stared back at the men and women who looked upon them, curious but reserved. She tried to smile reassuringly, but it didn’t seem to help.
At least it didn’t hurt.

The main government building of Hastan was a large, circular structure at the end of the East-West Way. The builders had chosen a circle to signify that all was made equal in that there were no sides. It had only one floor for much the same reason. The fact had never stuck out to her in all her reading, but after seeing so much of the world, she had never appreciated her own history or culture more.

“Back again?” A farmer who had been dressed up to look like a guard—and was failing—yawned from the doorway. “She’s not going to see you twice in one day.”

“Inform the senator that the Emperor wishes to meet with her.” Vhalla made mental notes about how Aldrik put strength behind his words. How he could make a statement, said calmly, seem like both an order from a friend and a threat from a ruler.

“The Emperor is dead.”

“The father, but not the son,” Vhalla clarified.

The man looked at her, as if for the first time. “You’re not one of them.”

“I am. As are you. We are all the Solaris Empire. An Empire of the Sun for its people, for peace.”

“Who are you?”

“Vhalla Yarl.”

By the way he reacted, she would’ve thought she had told the man that she was the chaos dragon, burst free from the Father’s prison in the night sky. The man stumbled back, holding his shirt over his chest in surprise. He stared at her for a long moment, ignoring the presence of the man who had proclaimed himself the true Emperor.

“You . . . You come with me.” The man started for the door. “The rest of you stay.”

“Excuse me?” the Lord Ci’Dan balked.

“The senator said no more Westerners, but I will take the Windwalker to her.” The farmer-guard paused at the door.

“The Emperor will come with me,” Vhalla insisted.

“Unnecessary.” Aldrik rested his hand lightly on her arm, summoning her attention. “Once the senator meets with you, I’m confident she will be willing to hold an audience with the rest of us.”

Vhalla paused, stuck in limbo. Aldrik had such confidence in her. It thrilled her. It terrified her. But she was becoming the woman she had hoped—because it was more elating than frightening.

“Very well.” Vhalla nodded. She caught his hand, briefly lacing her fingers against his. “I’ll go, and come back once I’ve gained an audience for you all.”

She followed the guard into an entry room, it arched slightly with the curve of the building. They crossed through it, passing a long hall.

“You believe me?” she asked.

“I do,” the man affirmed with minimal hesitation. “No one in their right mind would admit to being Vhalla Yarl if they weren’t actually Vhalla Yarl.”

Vhalla laughed, unable to argue. Claiming she was Vhalla Yarl was a virtual death sentence in the world they lived. He led her through another doorway into the center of the building. A circular auditorium descended three levels into the earth. Sun shades were pulled back from an open roof, letting in the sunlight. A woman, with brown hair that grayed at the ears, looked up from where she was toiling over some letters spread out at a circular table.

“Who is this?” The question was pointed, but not sharp nor unkind.

“Vhalla Yarl.”

The senator looked Vhalla up and down for a long moment, squinting. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’ve been told death doesn’t suit me.”

“It didn’t suit the Vhalla Yarl I knew, either.” The lines by her eyes deepened as she smiled. “If you are really Vhalla Yarl, tell me what you did to throw the court into disarray during your trial.”

“I stopped Master Mohned from falling,” Vhalla answered easily. “Senator, your Emperor seeks an audience, but he is being refused because you have already had your audience with the West today.”

The woman considered this for a long moment. “Speak honestly; is he truly the Emperor?”

“You will know it to be fact when you see him.”

The senator proved Vhalla correct. The moment she laid eyes on Aldrik, her hesitation vanished. Within minutes, they were sipping cool wheat tea and heatedly discussing plans to implement with the West. By the time they were finished, the sun was low in the sky.

It was easier than Vhalla had expected. The East and West seemed to just fall into place. Without the complication over whose claim to the throne was the strongest and who would likely garner more support across the continent, the East had little hesitation in supporting Aldrik’s assertion.

“This feels too easy,” she remarked to Aldrik as they walked through the curving hallway on their way to where the messenger birds of Hastan were kept.