Crystal Crowned [ARC]

  “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 li
mbo. 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.

  “Let it be so,” he chuckled. “We have had enough hardship.”

  “So it’s what I expect.” Vhalla linked her arm with his, enjoying the quiet. It felt like forever since they had last been alone. Elecia had chosen to sleep in the camp with her father. But Fritz and Jax were joining Vhalla and Aldrik in the government building, so Vhalla expected such times to be limited.

  “My father,” Aldrik said thoughtfully. “For all his flaws, he had a vision that takes roots in the hearts of men. A vision of a single banner, uniting us all. Of struggling for a better future rather than against each other.”

  Vhalla gripped his arm for a moment, debating if she should bring up the Crescent Continent. She put a quick end to her debate. He didn’t need to be reminded of his father’s ruthlessness. She would allow him a memory colored with fondness.

  Aldrik continued, “It’s an ideal people are still willing to fight for. Because we were so close we could taste it.”

  “You will end this war and be an Emperor for peace.” Vhalla permitted herself a tiny smile at the notion.

  “We will end it. And we will be the rulers for peace.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The night’s darkness enveloped the last messenger bird. Vhalla’s hands were ink stained and tired. She’d written triple the number of letters Aldrik had, but only a third had been sent. She had never written letters as an Empress before, and it proved more difficult than expected to capture and hold the right tone.

  Vhalla had scrapped the first batch on her own and then the second after Aldrik’s critique. Eventually she developed a formula for informing the Western lords and ladies that their Emperor was alive. But by the time she’d mastered it, Aldrik had already finished the majority on his own.

  “Come.” He took her hand in his, drawing her attention away from the window. “We should rest.”

  Vhalla appreciated the simple elegance of the Eastern government building. It was the original senate hall, and it was as opulent as could be expected of the East without being needlessly lavish. The floors were multi-colored wood, inlaid in a zig-zag pattern of light and dark. A handful of portraits in tasteful frames lined the hall at wide intervals. Candlelight gleamed off the floor polish.

  But the beauty had a certain darkness tainting it at the shadows. This place stood for a government created by the people, to serve the people—the East’s great experiment. As long as Victor was alive, it would only be a shade of its former glory, its growth stinted by the shade of a madman.

  She rubbed her shoulder absent-mindedly. The scar no longer ached to the touch. It had healed over to an ugly, but otherwise harmless, mark.

  They passed Jax and Fritz’s temporary chambers on the way to their rooms. Vhalla would have stopped in to spend time with her friend, but no light peeked out from under his door. Vhalla hoped that he was getting some much needed sleep in a real bed.

  She and Aldrik had separate rooms, as was deemed chaste and appropriate for their standing. It made Vhalla roll her eyes at the notion. Apparently the senator thought similarly, as the rooms had a connecting door. It fit the East’s lax mentality when it came to physical affection. The notion of sacred chastity was a loose construct placed upon them by the West rather than an important tenant of their culture.

  Vhalla naturally found her way into his bed most nights. Their proximity was impossible to fight and, in some ways, she needed him now more than ever. His arms reassured her that she had a place in his world, that she wasn’t a girl pretending to be noble.

  Vhalla listened to his slow and steady breathing, debating the words that were burning her tongue. They both needed rest, and he was nearly asleep. Vhalla nuzzled her Emperor’s jaw gently.

  “What is it?” Aldrik uttered into the darkness.

  “Norin?” she replied.

  He sighed softly, pressing his cheek into her forehead. “I did promise we would speak on it.”

  “And I will hold you to that promise.”

  “We absolutely must have the full support of the Empire,” he began. “Standing against Victor will otherwise be impossible.”

  She didn’t disagree.

  “Our Empire is in disarray, threatened by being torn apart and scattered. My life is enough to rally the West. Your becoming Empress helps cement the East’s support. But the North depends on the deal we have struck with them.”

  Vhalla held her tongue as, technically, the deal Sehra had made was for Aldrik’s heir, irrelevant of which woman produced said heir. Vhalla had no guarantee she would make it to the end of the war.

  “Beyond that, the people need a display of strength. That their leadership is whole, united, concrete. A wedding will do just that.”

  “Are you certain?” She was unconvinced. “Wouldn’t a wedding look as though we are focused on ourselves when we should be focused on our people?” It was odd how phrases like “our people” were becoming easier to say.

  He chuckled and pressed his lips firmly to her forehead. “I adore your compassion for our Empire. But I beseech you—have faith in me on this. I understand the workings of the court and the displays the people expect.”

  “I do have faith in you, but that doesn’t exempt me from feeling uncertain.”

  “My Vhalla.” His arms tightened around her. “Grant it to me. If something should happen to me—”

/>   “Don’t say it.” She twisted to find his face in the darkness, stealing the words from his lips with a firm kiss. “Don’t you dare say those words, Aldrik Solaris. We’ve been through too much to entertain morbid possibilities.”

  Vhalla knew where his heart lay. It was in the same place that had told her to go West if he fell in the final battle of the North. It was the truth, but Vhalla did not want to give it the credence of words. She knew the title of Empress would ensure her protection. She knew Aldrik desired nothing more; he didn’t need to say it.

  “Very well,” Aldrik sighed, gently kissing her back for a long moment. “If it is truly something you do not wish, then we won’t speak on it. But consider the notion, come to terms with it, before you outright reject it.”

  “That I can do.” Her words were a hushed whisper, but a cacophony of noise filled her brain as her mind tried to think too many thoughts over top each other.

  A few hours later, she had almost quieted the noise in her mind when her restless sleep was interrupted by a screech ripping through the sky. It sounded as though the heavens were being torn asunder, and it awoke both of them with a start. Another cry echoed the first. It was pure agony given form, as though a thousand men and women cried all at once.

  She was out of bed and to their window in an instant, throwing open the shutter and looking skyward.

  “What do you see?” Aldrik asked, trying to look as well.

  “Nothing from here.” Vhalla squinted into the darkness of the night.

  Another screech came. Creatures zipped through the night air and gusted wind against her cheeks. Vhalla’s eyes caught a glint of something unnatural descending upon Hastan. The brief outlines of hulking abominations were visible, glowing faintly in a familiar turquoise shade.

  “Monsters,” she breathed. “Victor’s attacking.”

  “Did you see him?” Aldrik took one more look out the window before starting for the door.

  “Not him, but one of his crystal experiments.” Vhalla wasn’t actually sure what banked through the sky, but it was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The creature they had encountered on the road with Daniel seemed child’s play compared to this. Even just as a shadow in the night, it was a nightmare given form—a monster that one wished to remain in the void from where it came.