“These vows have been said before Gods and men,” the Crone continued, as though Aldrik’s modification hadn’t even happened. “May they never be broken, and may these two never prove unfaithful to the words that have been spoken.

  “Should the Mother above bless this union, may she touch this couple with her flame. Should the Father above bless this union, may the Mother’s flames leave their skin unmarred.” The Crone raised her hands.

  A golden flame sparked at the short bottoms of the ribbon wrapped around their hands. Vhalla held Aldrik’s hand tightly. Her fingers already bore burn scars, and she could endure the pain for formality’s sake.

  But the fire did not burn her. It consumed the ribbon, but only licked lightly on their skin. It was true magic, a type she had never seen before.

  “With this sign from the Gods themselves, you are now united as one, husband and wife. May your life, and reign, be one of light,” the Crone announced.

  Just like that, it was done. The crowd burst into fierce applause, and Vhalla blinked as if returning from a trance. Even if it was just for appearances, the masses seemed happy. They celebrated. And, for that moment, Vhalla, too, allowed herself to pretend that the world wasn’t at war. That they wouldn’t march out at dawn.

  “Vhalla, kneel,” Aldrik whispered.

  She swallowed hard and adjusted her skirts. Falling as gracefully as possible to one knee, she suddenly felt more nervous than she had all day. Aldrik released her hand slowly, making sure she was stable, before turning to his uncle.

  The box Lord Ophain held was of no surprise to Vhalla. But, judging from the look on Aldrik’s face, it was a surprise to him. His hands paused, hovering mid-air just before opening the box.

  “Uncle . . .” he breathed.

  “She would’ve wanted it,” the lord insisted.

  Aldrik’s long fingers ran over the top of the box before settling on the latch and opening it. Reaching in, he produced the same glittering crown Vhalla had seen earlier. Clearly, some of the nobles recognized it and were all too eager to tell their friends in the near vicinity all about the important history of the relic.

  “Lady Vhalla Ya—” he caught himself. “Lady Vhalla Solaris.”

  Hearing her new name was quite a strange, yet wonderful, sensation.

  “Wife of the Emperor, common born and nobly appointed.” Aldrik lowered the crown upon her waiting brow. The moment his fingers vanished she felt the weight of it upon her head. “Rise and stand with me—as Empress Solaris.”

  Just like that, the world changed. Aldrik held out both hands before her and helped her to her feet. Vhalla stood, not as a common-born library girl, a soldier, a sorcerer, or a lady, but as an Empress.

  If the cheers for their wedding had been loud, the cheers for her coronation were near deafening. It was as though the people truly believed that, by having a whole royal family again, they stood a better chance against the madman in the south.

  “My Empress.” Aldrik gripped her hands tightly, a beaming smile threatening to break through his trained decorum. “Ascend with me.”

  Vhalla walked at his side up the stairs that he had descended earlier. She held her skirts with one hand, his hand in the other. She was terrified but hopeful. And all she wanted was him.

  The door at the top of the balcony closed behind them, and the sound broke her trance. Vhalla found herself in a dimly lit hall, alone with the man who was now her husband. There were no words for the joy, the triumph. Vhalla threw out all necessary decorum and forced the Emperor against the door.

  Her mouth crashed against his, and Aldrik’s arms closed around her waist. They had done it. In spite of it all, they had found each other. He tasted of pure elation and of something much sweeter, something she hadn’t dared even breathe in for some time: hope.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Sooo,” Jax drawled from the end of the hall. “You two skipping the party?”

  Vhalla pulled away, grinning wildly. She still had his jacket balled in her fists. His hands were halfway under the upper layer she wore overtop her skirts.

  “What do you think, Empress?” Aldrik cocked his head to the side with a small grin.

  “I think we are our own party.”

  Aldrik laughed and pressed his lips against hers. Vhalla returned his kiss in earnest. Though she couldn’t commit to it fully due to the sensation of someone else’s eyes.

  “Jax, are you . . . just going to stand there?” She fell back down onto her heels.

  “It’s not every day you get to watch your sovereigns put on a show like two raging teens.” Jax leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “Since it’s in a public place, I figured that meant you didn’t mind spectators. Or maybe you’d finally take me up on my offer of a third.”

  “Oh, by the Mother.” Vhalla rolled her eyes and finally stepped away from her husband. “I suppose we should go.”

  “If we must.” Aldrik’s cheeks held a faint rosy flush.

  The rest of the royals and highest nobility were waiting for them in a small antechamber. Tina and Lilo both pressed their cheeks to hers in modest signs of affection. For the West, however, they were overt displays. Ophain welcomed her to the family as well.

  Vhalla was momentarily distracted by Aldrik and her father sharing a brief familial embrace. He had lost his family in the South, but, in their own way, they were rebuilding anew. She hoped that her father could be someone Aldrik felt comfortable with.

  Her eyes shifted towards foreign whispers. Za and Sehra stood a few paces away from everyone else, talking between themselves.

  Vhalla crossed over. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Are you?” the princess asked thoughtfully.

  “I am,” she affirmed. “It was an important display for the Empire.” Vhalla didn’t mince words. She knew the princess wouldn’t want it, and there was no longer time for it.

  “You seem to be settling into your crown already, Lady Empress,” Sehra praised.

  “The crown has little to do with it. I am no longer interested in fronts. I want action.”

  Aldrik walked over, placing his palm on the small of her back.

  “Emperor Solaris.” Sehra gave a small nod of her head, the most subservience the girl had ever demonstrated.

  “Princess Sehra.” Aldrik mirrored the motion. “How did you find the ceremony?”

  “Long and needlessly cumbersome, as I find most things in the South to be.” She gave the tiniest of smiles. “And one that I am very glad I was not forced to be at the center of.”

  Vhalla should be offended, but she found herself amused. “Join us in the carriage?” she asked as they started for the large doors out of the cathedral.

  “I would think those just married would seek some time alone,” the other royal hummed.

  “We have had ample time to be alone. I am much more interested in speaking to you regarding the status of the North’s armies and any strategies you may have for reclaiming the South.” Vhalla readjusted her crown as the doors to the cathedral opened.

  They lost the ability to converse due to the deafening cheers. Aldrik’s fingers remained entwined with hers as the Imperial couple waved at the gathered masses. Firebearers sent tongues of flame toward the heavens, and Commons waved pennons. With the world at its most beautiful and his hand in hers, for a second, it was a perfect dream. But Vhalla had yet to earn her happily ever after, if there was one to be had after the long march South.

  Sehra and Za entered the carriage first and settled as Vhalla and Aldrik continued to smile and wave. Za was awkward with her bow and quiver, tools that never left the warrior’s side. Vhalla and Aldrik navigated around them while they took their seats.

  “We have amassed an army of three thousand strong from Norin and the surrounding coastal cities,” Aldrik said, wasting no time in bringing Sehra up to speed on the most recent numbers. “That will join with another fifteen hundred from around
the Crossroads and the East.”

  “So then we will have nearly five thousand in total,” Sehra summed up gravely. It was a number that most strategists would be pleased with. But the princess’s emerald eyes still carried weight.

  “What do you fear?” Vhalla asked.

  “These men, they’re green. We have spent much time using our best to kill each other that we are now lame before a real force,” Sehra replied. “The earth quivers before this man’s magic. Even in Yargen, the trees shudder and cry out. He is tapping into something great.”

  “That is why we will move as fast as we can.” Vhalla glanced at Aldrik, who gave an affirmative nod. They’d fulfilled their obligations to the nobles and secured their crowns and their armies. “Our army is set to march in three days’ time.”

  “My warriors will arrive at the Crossroads in five.”

  “Then forgive me, princess, because I know you have just arrived, but I will ask you and Za to ride ahead and meet them. The Western nobility will feel more at ease if they know the Northern army’s leader is present to keep them under control.”

  “You think Shaldan people need keep under control?” Za frowned.

  “No, I—”

  “Peace, Za.” Sehra rested a hand on her guard’s knee. “She is worried for perception, not reality. The Southern peoples yet fear our might.”

  Vhalla didn’t correct Sehra. She was truthfully afraid of the Western lords looking for any reason to pick a fight with the people who had been their enemies only months ago. Vhalla knew men and women whose sons and daughters had died in the Northern campaigns. If Vhalla and Aldrik could send letters in advance informing them that the North had an appointed and native commander who was holding them accountable, it would help keep the chain of command streamlined and respected.

  “We will rest for two days at the Crossroads to replenish stock and rest the horses,” Aldrik said to no one in particular.

  “Then I will tell my people that they will expect to move in about two weeks’ time,” Sehra reasoned. “Have you plans to get through his walls?”

  “Was there a crystal one to the north?” Vhalla frowned. Sehra nodded. “How did you get through it?”

  “I used the power of Yargen,” Sehra replied, as though that fact would be obvious.

  Vhalla accepted it at face value. When the war was over, she was going to ensure she sat down and learned exactly what the power of Yargen was and how it worked.

  “But that will not work in the Waste. It is too far from the old trees.”

  “I see.” Vhalla adjusted her crown, the jostling of the carriage threatening to throw it off her brow. “Aldrik, has anyone scouted south?”

  “We can send someone. It should take—” he was cut short as the carriage came to a sudden stop with a loud whinny.

  “Tainted!” Vhalla heard someone scream. “She’s tainted!”

  A commotion rose outside the carriage. The four inside shared a brief look before bursting out the doors. Vhalla clenched her fists, prepared for whatever she was about to face.

  A group of people blocked the path to the drawbridge of the castle. They surrounded a single horse and rider. Guards lined the drawbridge, swords drawn.

  The rider looked as though she had come a long way. Her body was frail and her clothes threadbare. Her shoulders heaved, and her hands shook. Vhalla’s eyes lingered on the woman’s hands. Black veins bulged under the skin, as though trying to break through. Old cuts lingered open, having turned raw and leathery rather than healing. The woman raised her face. What was once Southern eyes had been turned nearly entirely red.

  “Take,” she rasped. “Take me—to Vhalla Yarl.”

  There was something about the voice that cut deep into Vhalla’s consciousness. Something that was familiar in the most terrible of ways. To everyone else, the woman looked like a tainted monster. Blackened gums receding away from lengthening teeth, blood red eyes and gnarled hands—it all made for a terrifying picture.

  But Vhalla mentally smeared away the blood and decay. She imagined the woman’s eyes to be blue and her frame thicker. She imagined her hair was not matted and, after a wash, would be blonde. But not the fair shades of blonde. A darker shade, one that could almost pass for Eastern.

  “By the might of the Mother, we will smite you down,” a guard boldly proclaimed.

  “Wait!” Vhalla stepped forward, and the crowd melted away from her.

  Heat registered next to her as fire crackled around Aldrik’s closed fists.

  “What do you want with Vhalla Yarl?” she asked the familiar creature.

  There was a delay, and the tainted woman swayed. She looked as though she was about to make an effort to dismount, but gave up halfway through. Her body fell to the road below with a sickening thud.

  “Vhalla, stop.” Aldrik caught her wrist, stopping her from running to the prone creature. “Don’t go near it.”

  “It’s Tim.” At least, she hoped it was.

  Shock relaxed his jaw, and Aldrik looked between the woman he held and the one unmoving on the ground. He squinted, trying to see what she had seen. Vhalla didn’t have time for it.

  Wrenching her arm from Aldrik’s, she sprinted over to the prone woman, stopping a step out of her reach. The taint was even worse close-up. It looked as though the very thing that was holding Tim together had somehow turned sour, and now her body was falling apart from the inside.

  “Timanthia?” Vhalla breathed.

  No one made a sound.

  The woman struggled, gasping for air through bleeding gums and black saliva. She half snarled, half cried, as she tried to will her body to move. Vhalla knelt down, hearing Aldrik’s footsteps behind her.

  “T-take it. Take it. From him. I came. For you,” Tim’s voice crackled and rasped. She raised an arm weakly.

  Vhalla’s hands closed around silver. She felt the etchings along the outside of the bangle, familiar and almost warm to the touch. It was scratched and scuffed. But it was undeniably the token Larel had given to Vhalla years ago.

  “Listen to. Listen, and help them,” Tim pleaded. She gripped Vhalla’s skirts, blinking away bloody tears that poured over her cheeks. “Take it and kill me.”

  “Can nothing be done for her?” Vhalla whispered to no one. She was unable to tear her eyes away from the other woman’s face. At the grotesque shade that had been cast upon what was once beauty.

  “She’s too far gone,” Sehra responded.

  Vhalla wanted to scream. She had a thousand questions. How had Tim made it to Norin? Why had she come? How had she survived, and what had she endured? Vhalla needed hours to dissect all the information locked within Tim’s story. And all she was giving Vhalla was a bracelet. Vhalla carefully twisted the bangle and slipped it off while holding Tim’s wrist steady.

  “Lady Empress, I don’t think it wise—” the highest ranking guard began cautioning.

  “I did not ask what you thought.” She put the jewlery on her own wrist and slowly returned Tim’s arm to the woman’s side. Vhalla stared down at the face of suffering. This was what their time had cost.

  They were partying, while their people were dying.

  Vhalla caressed Tim’s cheek gently, unafraid of crystal taint. Sorrow was being smothered by anger, by pain. She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to end it all, once and for all. She wanted to see that there never was another day, ever, where crystal taint would be feared.

  “K-k-kill . . .” Tim’s lower lip quivered overtop her unnaturally shaped teeth.

  “Tim, thank you.” Vhalla’s hand shifted to cover the woman’s mouth. “Thank you.”

  Just enough magic, just enough to turn her insides to liquid. To shred her lungs and tear through her heart. Wind roared under Vhalla’s skin and poured into Tim. The woman shuddered and the second her neck burst Vhalla withdrew her palm.

  Everyone looked on as the Empress slowly stood. Vhalla balled her hand into a fist, blood dripping be
tween her clenched fingers. Vhalla raised her voice for all to hear.

  “We march at dawn!”

  CHAPTER 24

  “My lady, the army can’t possibly march at dawn.” One of the majors tried to catch up with her as she strode through the castle. “That’s not enough time.”

  “Find time,” Vhalla demanded unapologetically.

  “We need more supplies, carts are still being packed, and—”

  “Essentials first, everything else second. The climate will be temperate in the West; we can forego some of the bedding now and pick it up at the Crossroads for the South. We’ll send word ahead on what we need.” Vhalla glanced at the party that developed around her. “Tina, please write to every Western lord and lady between here and the East demanding that supplies be sent to the Crossroads.”

  “Major . . .” Vhalla didn’t know what the man’s name was and didn’t care enough to wait for him to say it. “Go with Lady Tina and help give instructions on everything we may need.”

  They crossed through a series of inner gardens and back through another slew of halls before Vhalla broke out to the training grounds. She held up her hand, imagining she was winding a ball of wind in its center. The sky screeched briefly with the noise of the unseen twister she created, summoning every soldier’s focus.

  “Men and women of the Solaris Army.” The woman in the golden dress, silver crown, and blood-stained hand captured their attention. “For too long we have sat quietly. For too long we have talked about preparing. For too long we have practiced. And I am no exception.”

  Vhalla held out her dress, uncaring for the blood she smeared on the gold fabric. She hadn’t expected to be so right when she’d told Aldrik that she’d wear the blood of their subjects. “I have fulfilled my duties as a noblewoman at the cost of my duties as a soldier.”

  She never thought she’d identify as a soldier.

  “No more.” Vhalla had no idea who was behind her, listening to her words. She only remained focused ahead. “Tomorrow, I ride with the dawn. I make for the Crossroads and for the South. I march to put an end to the false king.