Chapter 43
Every inch of Solveig’s body ached.
Vali had been close to getting the better of her, and the weariness in her muscles insisted on a reset before her afternoon match with Steffen. The warm water of her bath floated over her breasts as a soft knock came at her door.
“It’s me,” came Vali’s voice.
Solveig sighed. She just wanted to relax and take a quick soak before lunch. He didn’t wait for her to answer before letting himself in.
“Hey!” Solveig exclaimed, bringing her knees to her chest.
Vali waved her off. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He winked and she rolled her eyes, keeping her knees where they were.
She felt oddly exposed. Though he’d done more than see her naked in the past, she didn’t want his eyes on her now.
“Turn around,” she ordered, and Vali grudgingly obliged.
“You know, when we’re married, I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you,” he teased.
“When? Someone is confident.”
“Very,” he said cheerfully. Then his posture tensed. “But in all seriousness, Sol, that’s why I came to talk to you.”
Solveig quickly washed, relishing the relief of scrubbing the crusted sweat from her skin.
“About us getting married?” she asked when he didn’t continue.
“About who you choose. You can’t choose Steffen,” Vali stated as the words began to pour out of him.
“I love my brother, but he cannot give you what I can. Bo and Henny were never interested in ruling Alfheim, so I only had to contend with Steffen growing up. He’s ruthless, and I’m concerned that the two of you in a marriage may end badly—with demolishing Yggdrasil, rather than saving it.
I can balance you. He’s been very secretive for the last year and there’s been a noticeable change in him. A darkness.”
Something stirred inside of Solveig. “What kind of darkness?”
Vali ran his hands through his hair. “It’s difficult to explain because I didn’t notice it right away, almost like when the sun begins to set. I thought Steffen was beginning to mature, and I was relieved.
“I was even grateful that he seemed to be taking his role as an heir to Alfheim seriously. But living without his magic has hardened him. The darkness sometimes wins, and he becomes vengeful and merciless.”
Solveig listened with trepidation. She’d always trusted Vali—they’d been friends for centuries. But so had she and Laeknir. Her heart clenched when she thought of the old healer and his deception. Even after four hundred and twenty-six years, there were new heartaches for her to experience.
“Do you think he’s corrupted by whatever ailed the mortal girl?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
Solveig finished bathing and stood. “Hand me that towel in front of you, please.” Vali reached forward and grasped the small hand towel instead of the larger one to its right, handing it back to her without looking.
Solveig snorted. “Seriously?”
Vali’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he handed her the larger towel she had gestured to in the first place. “Can’t blame a male for trying!”
“Yes, I can.”
Solveig wrapped the towel around her body and was about to tell Vali he could turn around when a sharp sting pierced her thigh. She yelped in surprise as pain lanced through her. A thick, black serpent hung from her leg, its fangs deep in her thigh.
She screamed as the pain radiated through her and she collapsed to the ground. The last thing she saw was Vali standing over her, his face unreadable through her hazy vision.
“Ow,” Solveig muttered as she came to. Her eyes blurred before she could take in the scene before her. She lay on her bed in her Alfheim rooms with Gerrie wrapping her thigh.
“You’ve had worse,” her friend teased, but the humour didn’t reach her eyes. This was serious.
“Did Vali put a fucking snake in my towel?” Solveig raged, trying to get up, but Conalle was at her other side, holding her back.
“We’re not sure,” Gerrie said, concentrating on Solveig’s wound. “He came running out of your bathroom for help, all in a panic.”
“He didn’t seem very panicked when I was bitten.” Solveig flexed her thigh muscle and cringed at the throbbing pain. “Have you seen Sten anywhere? He usually warns me of these things. That’s why my mothers sent him along.”
“No,” Gerrie answered, a look of distress crossing her features.
Conalle jumped in, changing the subject. “Is West going insane in your mind right now?”
“What?” Solveig wondered if her shock was as evident as her connection with Westley apparently was.
“You thought I didn’t know you two could mindspeak? Oh, Solveig, you’re so blind sometimes,” he said earnestly.
Solveig looked at him hard before answering. “No, he hasn’t noticed that I was almost killed by a snake.” And she didn’t mean the serpent that’d bitten her.
“That makes sense. The snake only had your garden-variety paralytic. Not venomous enough to kill you, just incapacitate you.”
“Oh, is that all?” Her head was woozy, her vision spinning. She could barely focus on this ridiculous conversation. She shut her eyes and breathed through her nose.
“You’ll be fine in a few hours. Your magic is already burning through the venom.”
“Fantastic,” Solveig mumbled, swinging her legs off the bed once Gerrie was done.
“You should postpone your fight with Steffen,” Conalle suggested, but she was already shaking her head.
“I’ve fought more difficult battles with much worse injuries. I can take on an Elven prince just fine. I could probably do it with five more snakebites. And blindfolded.”
When she carefully put some weight on her leg, it was painful, but she could manage. She would not give Alfheim a reason to step back, and she would not give whoever had done this the satisfaction of seeing her weak.
“Yeah, I thought as much,” Conalle sighed, handing her her sword.
All the way down to the theatre, Solveig tried to work through the pain in her leg. It wouldn’t subside, lingering at the forefront no matter what she did. She took a steadying breath.
One. Two. Three.
She stepped out onto the stage to loud cheers from the audience.
Steffen emerged from the other side, and Solveig was grateful this was her last match—exhaustion tugged at her, her body worn and aching.
They met in the middle, where Steffen reached out to shake her hand. Solveig paused only a fraction of a second before taking it in hers. Steffen noticed the hesitation.
“It wasn’t me,” he whispered so only she could hear.
“Is that so?”
“Solveig, you know me. I would never hurt you!” he exclaimed.
She narrowed her eyes, gripping his hand more forcefully. “Someone with access to my rooms put a venomous snake in there. I cannot trust anyone.”
“Vali is not who you think,” he murmured as they assumed their fighting positions.
“Funny, he said the same thing about you.”
The horn sounded to begin the match, and Solveig dodged Steffen’s initial swing. She snapped her jaw shut as she fought through the pain in her leg.
“You shouldn’t have released his magic,” Steffen censured. “He’s too power hungry.”
“He doesn’t have access to all of it. I suppose you’re going to ask me to loosen your binds as well?”
“No, Solveig, I’m not.” He dodged another of her advances.
She forced him to back up until he was on the edge of the stage. “Why not?”
“To show you that I can keep up with you even without magic, so you have no reason to not believe me.”
The still fresh wound of the Southern Wilds throbbed in her chest. “Plenty of people have betrayed me without their magic. What makes you the exception?”
Their fight grew more rigorous, effectively ending their conversation. Steffen managed to wrestle her to the ground, careful of her wounded leg. He held her down, forcing her to use a blast of her magic to get him off.
“Cheater,” he said with a smile.
“Hey, I’ve got to use what I’ve got. And you should too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not using my injury to your advantage. You could’ve easily incapacitated me, but you stayed away from my leg.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you should want to win,” Solveig said as she dodged to the left, putting too much weight on her leg.
A true king made sacrifices.
She winced, and to his credit, Steffen looked apologetic as he kicked her wounded leg out from underneath her. She cried out in pain as she fell to the floor.
Steffen was on her in an instant, his hands gripping her wrists. She used her good leg to hook around his knee, rolling them so he was beneath her.
Conalle and Gerrie cheered her on, calling Steffen names and booing him. The Elven prince made use of her injury and untangled himself from the weak hold of her legs. Solveig swung her hands around as Steffen got to his feet.
She couldn’t stay on her knees, and sweat began to bead, rolling down her back. He went to kick her again, but when she twirled to avoid it, she rolled onto her back leg.
Pain shot up the entire length of her body. The energy she had to expend to keep Westley out of her head, to block this from him, made the pain more unbearable, drained as she was. She couldn’t wrap her magic around it. The poison burned every time she tried.
Her chest heaved as she fell onto her back, spent.
Steffen stood over her, her sword in his hand, pointed at her throat.
He’d won.