Chapter 48
Solveig had been descending the stairs when movement from the window caught her eyes. Lest he see her, she slipped into the shadows and peered down at the prince walking alone, head held high, towards the palace.
His presence was electric—she’d felt him the moment he’d crossed into the palace boundaries, her magic thrumming in her veins.
Though her barriers were still intact, his presence was like a caress. He looked up as if she had called him, eyes directed at the window she stood beside. She didn’t think he could see her, but he stared intently like he knew she was there. Solveig could read no emotion on his face.
She turned away from him first, releasing them both. Her heart protested, but she used it to fuel her magic. Making her way down to the conference room, she nearly collided with Koa and Aelfsi who were huddled together in a corridor, whispering to each other.
“What are you two up to?” Solveig asked, eyeing them with suspicion.
“That is none of your concern,” Koa replied. Solveig thought it was very much her concern, but she knew they wouldn’t speak of it to her until they were ready. Maybe she was being paranoid.
“They’re here,” she told her mothers.
“Very well, let’s gather,” Aelfsi said, holding her arm out to Koa. Koa grasped it, pulling her wife close as they led the way towards the meeting room.
Solveig thought the queens would have at least given them time to bathe and eat but instead had insisted they convene immediately upon their return.
The prince appeared at the other end of the corridor, his tall muscular frame clothed in thick travelling clothes, hair wind-whipped from the sea and the speed with which he must have ridden on horseback.
His olive eyes glowed with intensity as he drank in the sight of her, gaze sweeping from her head to her feet and back up again, searching for any wounds.
She still walked with a slight limp from the snakebite.
Though it had been nearly two weeks since the injury, the venom lingered.
His brows furrowed when he caught the stilted movement.
A question lingered on the edge of her mental barriers, but she looked away, not letting him in.
He took a breath before he entered the room ahead of Solveig and the queens.
Solveig waited outside, allowing the others to go in before her in order to fortify herself. Sten gave her an unreadable look before he went in—a look that was becoming quite frustrating as he couldn’t explain his feelings to her.
He’d mentioned his Sight had been dark since Asgard, but he was still getting impressions. What the Hel that meant, she didn’t know. And she couldn’t afford to let anything that wasn’t concrete distract her.
Gerrie and Conalle arrived shortly after and she entered with them, sitting on the opposite end from Westley, the long dark walnut table that grew directly from the ground stretching between them.
Her magic surged, and she closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. When she opened them, her gaze landed on the prince, who was watching her intently. His relentless attention forced her to sit taller in her chair.
His companions, including his sisters and two of Solveig’s guards from the cave, came into the room next. She barely glanced at Noren and Viggo, greeting North and Easta with a smile instead. They beamed back. The heat of the prince’s gaze warmed her cheeks.
The Elven court, Queen Eir and her four sons, followed soon after. Steffen immediately made his way over to Solveig and took her hand, laying a soft kiss on her palm. She knew better than to look at the prince as he did so, offering Steffen a small smile as he sat close beside her.
Queen Eir was the last Elven to take her seat, sitting to Solveig’s left at the head of the long oblong table. Vali threw a smirk over to Solveig as he encouraged flowers to bloom in the walls, letting slip the secret of his loosened magic.
The Fae’s eyes widened in surprise, and Vali winked. Given the amount of royalty in one room, a tense silence settled among them as they waited for Idavoll’s king and queen to appear. They liked to make an entrance—it was the curse of being a monarch.
Sure enough, King Erik and Queen Alvida entered last, taking their seats at the head of the table’s opposite end, between their daughters.
“When you requested an audience, Aelfsi,” Erik started, pinning the Queen of Asgard with a glare, “we did not expect such a . . . parade.” He pointedly looked around the room at the faces, barely acknowledging his son.
Solveig felt the soft request from outside her mental walls and let the prince’s voice filter into her mind. It was the first time in months she’d allowed him in, and the ease with which she accepted him was concerning.
Latham is in the dungeon. No one but our party knows.
She didn’t allow herself to show any emotion. Has he said anything?
Yes, I was very convincing.
I’m sure you were, Prince.
We cannot discuss it in front of my parents.
Understood. Solveig raised her barriers again, grateful for the knowledge.
“We have wonderful news,” Aelfsi explained, her voice soft and pliable. Solveig hid her smirk. Aelfsi was anything but soft and pliable, except where Koa was concerned.
“And what is that?” Alvida said, her eyes narrowing.
“Princess Solveig is to wed my son, Prince Steffen of Alfheim,” Queen Eir told them with a wide smile.
The King and Queen of Idavoll wore mirrored expressions of shock. Their gazes flitted between Solveig and Steffen and then over to their son. They didn’t speak.
“We are very excited about the union of our continent, and we hope the fruits of their marriage will strengthen the Trifold to what it once was,” Koa said, her words heavy with meaning.
This marriage represented all three realms. As the adopted daughter of Asgard and a witch of Vanir ancestry, Solveig held the allegiance of two realms. Idavoll was caught in the middle, and the message was clear.
“You are to name their offspring as Asgard’s heir?” Erik said stiffly, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
“That is the plan. This marriage will unite our people and restore a force so great we will be able to conquer any foe,” Koa said, turning to Solveig with an endearing smile. “Our daughter has chosen well.”
Solveig’s smile back was forced. Steffen joined their hands and placed them on the table for all to see. The monarchs of Idavoll glared at the display before returning their attention to Queen Eir.
“And the Elven are willing to enter a violent war?” Alvida asked, trying to appeal to the Elven’s gentle nature.
“It has come to our attention that violence is being committed with or without our involvement. Therefore, we must help put a stop to it,” Queen Eir rebutted.
Steffen squeezed Solveig’s hand. She turned to her betrothed, the twinkle in his eye a promise of their life together. At least, that’s what she thought it was, until he turned away, facing the Idavoll prince. Solveig didn’t follow his line of sight.
“When is this wedding to take place?” Alvida asked through clenched teeth.
“That is why we have gathered,” Koa said. “We had hoped to have it here. In Idavoll. This week.”
Westley choked, hiding his reaction behind a cough. Solveig allowed herself to look at Koa, her raised brow the only sign of her surprise. They had not informed her of this plan and suspicion bloomed in her chest. Her sister was up to something.
Both her mothers were, by the look of it.
“Excuse me?” Erik asked, not bothering to hide his derision. “Why on Yggdrasil would we host the wedding of a Vanir and an Elven?”
“Why ever would you not? It was done in the past, since Idavoll is at the heart of the continent, connecting all three realms of the Trifold. We recognize Idavoll’s strength, making it the perfect place to reignite the alliance,” Koa answered innocently.
If Solveig wasn’t so irked at her mothers, she would find their show much more amusing.
“It has not been done in many decades,” Alvida said when her husband couldn’t get out the words, overcome with his anger.
“All the more reason for this special wedding to start the tradition up again,” Koa said with a smile.
Solveig’s magic flared with each mention of the wedding. Her mothers were pushing harder than expected. They didn’t care that much about the traditions of old. In fact, they were loudly opposed to that line of thinking. They abhorred tradition for tradition’s sake.
Aelfsi added, “Isn’t that Idavoll’s dream, to be the centre of power? What better way to show your people you are willing to support the joining and the future heir of Asgard.”
The king and queen bristled.
“Does anyone else object to this union?” Koa asked lightly, surveying the room—her gaze lingering too long on the prince to be a coincidence. Solveig narrowed her eyes on her sister.
An unnerving feeling settled in her bones as the vehemence in the room grew. Idavoll’s monarchs shifted in their seats. Queen Alvida’s eyes were on her son, as if pinning him in his seat.
“It seems no one does, love,” Aelfsi said, her gaze flitting to the prince as well.
Solveig caught the movement and understanding dawned. They were expecting him to object. But why would he?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sten backing away, heading carefully towards the door.
What was he sensing? Sure, the room was tense, but surely speaking about a wedding wouldn’t result in a brawl. She almost snorted at the foolishness of that thought. Brawls had been started over far less between these races.
“Well then, now that we have that settled, we can proceed with our plans,” Queen Eir said happily. “I am so glad no one has found fault in this arrangement.”
This was getting out of hand. One would think that the three queens, who were well over a thousand years old each, would be able to act more convincingly.
What the fuck was going on? Why was so much emphasis being placed on someone objecting?
The only reason a powerful arranged marriage between a couple from consenting realms could be overruled would be if—
Her heart faltered before roaring to life again, thundering in her chest.
No. It wasn’t possible.
Tension climbed higher. Her magic surged under her skin as realization crashed through her. The air was sucked from the room as if they’d all collectively inhaled, waiting.
No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes flicked to Koa and Aelfsi. They stared expectantly.
Her mothers knew.
They knew and had kept it from her.
How could they? They knew the prophecy she’d been given as a witchling. There was no way the prince could be . . .
Her mind trailed off, unable to form the words. She thought over everything that had happened.
The awakening of her magic in the cave.
Before the cave, even.
The prince’s pull on her, even though logic dictated they be enemies.
The buzzing under her skin intensified. There was only one way to test her theory—though deep down she knew she was right. The truth of it rattled her entire being. Sten was right to escape when he had.
“There are no objections, Your Majesties,” she said to her mothers, willing them to break their facade. “I believe we may move forward with our union with the full support of the Trifold.” She turned a dazzling smile on Steffen, who stared in delighted surprise.
The prince squirmed in his seat. Even with her attention elsewhere, every cell of her being was focused on him.
“I’m surprised by your willingness, Solveig,” Alvida said to her. “You never showed interest in marriage before.”
“You are correct. There was never a strong enough reason to compel me before now,” she answered smoothly.
“An arranged marriage?” the Idavoll queen challenged.
“Many arranged marriages become love matches. I have no doubt mine and Steffen’s will be the same,” she assured the queen.
North placed a hand on Westley’s knee—it was bouncing up and down, his face cold and hard. The glare he levelled at Steffen promised death. Solveig’s heart leapt at the violence, urging her forward.
She swept her gaze up and down Steffen’s form. “At the very least, it will certainly be fun to make an heir.”
The Idavoll king and queen let out cries of protest at her brazenness. Westley looked ready to pounce—Solveig was impressed at his restraint.
“And you are set to make their offspring Asgard’s heir?” Erik managed to ask.
“Certainly,” Aelfsi answered.
Steffen gripped her hand, staring at the prince with a raised brow, as if daring him to say something. Vali smothered a smile. North and Easta shared a look.
They all knew.
It took a massive amount of effort to keep her voice steady when she said, “We are two powerful beings. The coupling is sure to result in a strong Fae.”
King Erik cleared his throat at her insinuation. “Asgard can’t afford to be weakened, and an arranged marriage, even one that may grow into a love match, may not be the strongest way to produce an heir.”
Solveig turned to the king, grateful he’d played in her hands. Spinning the last thread of her web, she laid her trap.
“While an arranged marriage is certainly not the strongest union, it is our hope that once magic is restored, a mating bond will be formed. He, my chosen Hjarta, and I, his blessed Thiramin. We will be mates.”
As soon as the words left her lips, Westley shot to his feet with a snarl so fearsome, the walls reverberated with the sound. Everyone but Solveig flinched back.
Her mate glared at her.