21. Resistance
Resistance
Larissa
“L arissa, wake up.”
Even after opening her eyes, the darkness remained. A fine layer of dew had settled over her entire body. In the dim light of the rising sun, Larissa could make out the curious expectancy written across Halla’s face. “What’s going on?”
“You were dreaming.”
Larissa sat up, aware that Darien and Anara were listening. “People tend to do that when they sleep. Is it my turn to stay awake?”
“No,” Anara answered. “We let you sleep; you seemed to need it.”
“You kept saying Lovisa,” Halla added. “Were you remembering?”
Larissa rose to her feet, rolling up her damp blankets.
Halla tugged on her arm. “Are you the Princess or what?”
“Not right now, Halla. We have to go.” In truth, Larissa wasn’t sure what they needed to do, only that she wasn’t ready for this conversation. She’d taken a few steps when Halla raced in front of her, blocking her path.
“You can’t just avoid the question, Lara.”
“Watch me.” She sidestepped Halla, strolling back toward the truck. Larissa tossed her bundle of blankets into Helga’s bed, only for Halla to follow and do the same. Anara and Darien had followed, but they kept their distance, something Larissa was grateful for.
“Lara—”
“Let it go, Halla.”
She stomped her foot on the ground. “What is your problem? Would it really be so bad if you were the Princess?”
“Yes, it would!” Larissa snapped, wrapping her arms around her chest not only to block out the morning chill, but to shield herself from the consequences of her revelations.
“Don’t you get it? I won’t be your sister anymore!
I’ll be the reason our parents are dead, but I can’t even say that.
They’d be your parents, not mine. Is that what you want? ”
Halla stood on her tiptoes trying to see eye-to-eye with her sister, her face flushed. “You can be the Princess and my sister.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not, Lara?”
Larissa flung her arms out. “You want the truth so badly, Halla, but the truth means I’m not Lara. It means I’m Lovisa, but I don’t know who that is either. It’s like a past life.” Her voice broke. “So if I’m not Larissa or Lovisa, then who am I?”
Halla shrugged. “You can be both. Being Lovisa doesn’t mean you can’t be my sister.”
Larissa groaned, holding her head in her hands. “Kings and Queens, Halla, you don’t get it. I stole your birthright. I’m the reason you’re considered a second-born. I’m the one who caused you to live in fear of your own existence!”
Silence reigned in the forest. Darien and Anara stood as still as statues watching the sisters. Larissa leaned against the tailgate and closed her eyes against their scrutiny.
Halla’s small footsteps crunched over the gravel.
Larissa felt Halla hoist herself up onto the tailgate and rest her head against Larissa’s shoulder.
“Lara, Lovisa, I don’t care what your name is, and I don’t care about being first- or second-born.
I asked the AEsir for you. I love you, and you remembering any of this is a good thing.
Remember what Pappa told us? The Princess can help restore peace to our nation. You can do that.”
“No, I can’t.” Larissa’s words were ragged, as though she had been running a long time. She hopped down from the tailgate. “I was her, Halla, but I’m not her anymore. People change. I might have been Lovisa at some point, but I can’t help anyone. I can’t even keep you safe.”
Halla huffed and jumped down, reaching out to grab her sister. “You’re being stupid, Lara, come on—”
The moment before Halla’s hand made contact with Larissa, it flung back as though hitting and rebounding off an invisible barrier. The momentum caused Halla to step back. Her foot twisted on a rock, and Halla fell hard on her rump.
Before Larissa could react, Darien was there, pulling Halla to her feet as Anara stood between them. Larissa stared in horror at her shaking hand outstretched toward Halla. A golden aura emanated from Larissa’s fingers, and the pearl on her ring shone even brighter.
“You need to calm down,” Anara ordered. “You too, Halla. Stop pushing her.”
Larissa lowered her hand. “Did I do that?”
The answer was as clear as the glow that crackled between her fingers.
Halla pulled away from Darien and brushed the damp leaves from her clothes. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Anara stared at the glow, an odd sort of triumph mixing with sadness in her eyes. “It’s your galdr . You might think you’re not the Princess anymore, Lovisa, but the longer you continue to deny yourself, the more unpredictable your galdr will become.”
“My name is Larissa.” Static crackled in the air as she spoke.
Anara’s voice fell flat. “Fine, Larissa .”
Adrenaline coursed through her, pulsating with every breath. Larissa shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the glow. When her fingers finally stopped shaking, she dared to look at her sister. “Halla, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m fine.” She threw out her arms as if to emphasize her point, and Larissa nearly smiled.
Anara reached out a cautious hand and sighed when her hand rested on Larissa’s shoulder without meeting a barrier. “We really should get back on the road.” She held up her hand when Halla opened her mouth. “No more, Halla. We’ll get to the river, and then we’ll talk. Darien, you’re riding with me.”
Larissa sighed with relief at the reprieve in her interrogation, even though she knew it would resume soon.
Darien nodded at Anara but offered his hand to Halla. “Want some help, kiddo?”
She beamed at him, taking his hand with an air of regality. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Darien winced. “You don’t need to call me that.”
“What about Your Majesty?”
“No, not that one either.”
Using Darien’s hand, Halla boosted herself into Helga’s bed. “Why thank you, Your Princeliness.”
Anara snorted. “I like that one.”
Darien pushed his hand through his hair, and for a moment, Larissa saw him as he was during the Jóltide Festival.
Her heart felt that familiar flutter from her dreams, the heat of the burning fireplace, and the warmth of his lips pressed against her forehead.
She looked down just as he turned to her, but she was certain he could see the blush in her cheeks.
“Want some help?”
Larissa looked up to see his offered hand. She nearly reached for him but pulled back, fearing what memories his touch might awaken. She lifted herself up into the bed. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Freyja help you both,” Anara muttered. “Let’s go, Darien.”
She grabbed the collar of his jacket, practically dragging him back toward the cab of the truck.
Helga’s engine roared to life as Halla and Larissa settled themselves between the crates, wrapping a blanket around their legs.
Larissa laid her head against the truck bed’s side and closed her eyes to stem off Halla’s questions.
By the time Helga reached the main road, the morning sun had peeked over the horizon.
Despite the warmth, Larissa couldn’t shake the cold feeling in her gut and the memory of the blood on Queen Stjarna’s face.