Chapter 69
“This is not the right way!” North exclaimed with a sigh for the third time in the span of an hour.
Vali glared, eyes ringed with red. “Are you telling me you know the route to my home better than I do?” he asked, indignant.
Their hushed voices filled his tent, both aware of the many Idavoll soldiers within earshot. Their royal bickering being overheard would do no one any good.
North jammed her finger into the map, the paper crinkling under her unnecessary force. This had gone on long enough. She’d been as patient as she could—he’d just lost his mother and brother. And if the magic of the crown was any indicator, he would be the new King of Alfheim.
He had much to deal with, so North had tried to give him time to sort it all out. But it had been a week since they’d left Idavoll, and they were lost in some forest, red and orange leaves littering the ground, no path in sight.
Their supplies were dwindling, and the soldiers were getting restless.
Some had died from their injuries and others were not far from the same fate.
North was impatient to get to Alfheim. She wanted a bed and privacy so she could fall apart in peace.
The strength it took to keep herself together was exhausting.
Instead she was stuck with Vali and his obnoxiously calm Elven self—it was grating on her nerves. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and faced him like the queen she was.
“Prince Vali,” she said in as steady a voice as she could muster, “we have been walking in circles. We are currently here.” North pointed to the map more gently this time.
“We are here,” Vali pointed to a spot farther west. North held in her sigh.
“If we were there, then we would be able to see the coastline. We’re in the middle of the Hercynian Forest.” Her slender finger remained firmly planted on the map. She would not move it, no matter how much he doubted her.
“If we are in the Hercynian Forest, then where are the unicorns?” Vali asked loudly.
North blinked a few times before her laughter alleviated the tension. “You think unicorns would grace us with their presence? Are you not the prince, soon to be king of this realm?”
Vali flopped down onto the makeshift chair and dropped his head into his hands.
His shoulders shook, and for a moment, North worried that he had finally snapped under the weight of his grief.
But the sound that spilled out of him was not a sob, but a breathy chuckle that became laughter, then turned almost hysterical. All semblance of fight left his body.
“Gods, North, this is a disaster. How can I lead my people when I can’t even get us out of this fucking forest?”
“I feel that way too. How can I become queen when I failed to protect my throne?”
North lowered herself demurely into the chair beside Vali. Chair was a loose term for the stump she sat on. There wasn’t much room for luxury on the road, and they had nearly run out of the minimal supplies they’d managed to grab while fleeing.
“I keep thinking about Henny and Bo and wondering if they would be better at this than I will be.”
“But the crown chose you,” North said softly.
“How do you know?”
“I recognize the burden—the weight on your shoulders.”
Vali shook his head. “We won’t know who the crown passes to until we reach the palace.”
Two firstborn heirs sat together, both with siblings who would have made great leaders.
North was still convinced that Westley would do a fine job.
He’d proven over the past year that he was capable of growth.
Easta thrived in chaos and would surely keep her head under the dire circumstances they found themselves in.
But deep down, North understood that it was she who held the responsibility of her realm.
“You and I both know that you were born to be king. Even Steffen . . .” North’s voice trailed off as sadness crept back into Vali’s eyes.
“He would have made a great king,” Vali lamented, his voice rough with grief.
“Then you will do him proud,” North said, placing her hand over his. “But first, we have to actually get to Alfheim.”
“Do me a favour?” he asked, eyes pleading.
North knew better than to say yes without first knowing what the favour was. At her silence, Vali continued.
“Don’t tell them I got us lost, and do not tell them you knew the way out.”
North chuckled at his self-deprecation—she could save him this embarrassment. She nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty, as long as you stop putting up a fight and actually let me help you.”
“Deal,” he said with a smile.
They reached Alfheim the next day, thankfully without encountering any unicorns on their way. Why Vali had even mentioned them, North didn’t know—in her realm, they were deadly omens, only seen at the end of one’s life.
North released a sigh of relief when they entered the palace city. It gleamed, untouched by Ragnvald’s shadows and free of his hold. For now.
If she wasn’t mistaken, as soon as Vali’s feet touched the ground, the day became brighter, as if the city was acknowledging her new king.
Henny and Bo came out to embrace their brother. Their red-rimmed eyes told North they already knew of the loss of their mother and brother—Vali’s letter must have reached them.
They were ushered into the palace with such speed that North was unable to enjoy the beauty of the Elven craftsmanship until they were shown to their rooms. Pale greens and an array of earthy neutrals decorated the space, wrapping her in an otherworldly oasis free from the destruction she’d brought about.
The plush rugs cushioned her bare feet as she allowed herself a moment to breathe. It would have been easier to do had she not been coated in a week’s worth of travel after a bloody slaughter.
She soaked in a luxurious bath, wiping away the evidence of her failure. She laid her head against the tub and tried to think of what to do next. Visions of the bloodied throne room danced in her mind.
At the sound of a knock on the door, her heart leapt into her throat. She reached over and grasped the hilt of her sword.
“Come in,” she said as steadily as she could.
Vali poked his head in, and North slumped back into the tub with an exhale. “Solveig told me you had a habit of conversing with people trying to bathe.”
He smiled, trying to avert his eyes—and failing miserably. She subtly moved her hands under the water to cover herself. The bubbles hid most of her body, but she wouldn’t chance the possibility that he’d remain long enough for them to begin dissipating.
“I was thinking,” he said slowly, like he was approaching a cornered animal.
“Oh no,” she said cautiously. The relief she’d felt only a moment ago vanished, replaced with trepidation. She had no idea what the strange look on his face meant.
He grabbed a stool and pulled it up beside her bath.
“What if we joined our kingdoms?”
North barely dared to breathe. She didn’t want to assume his meaning, but the nervous fidget of his hands told her she should prepare herself for the inevitable.
“We’re already allied. How else could we be joined?”
“The same way we pretended Solveig was going to join us to Asgard.” He looked at her as if imploring her to understand his meaning. The knowing pit grew in her stomach.
“What exactly do you mean, Vali?”
“I think we should get married,” he said bluntly.
North stared at him. Every line of his posture told her he was deadly serious, so she felt no urge to laugh. But her heart lurched as she thought of Munin. She thought of how she had loved him and how that love had somehow been a lie. If Munin was not her true mate, then he was out there somewhere.
If she married Vali, that future would cease to be. As queen, she wouldn’t be able to end her own marriage in favour of a mate. Given how disastrous a pretend mate had been, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go through it all again. What’s to say it wouldn’t happen a second time?
Plus, she would be married to the King of Alfheim, and that was something. Not for herself, but for her people. Their heirs would be strong and would serve Idavoll. However, it was unheard of for the first heir to marry outside his race. Her eyes narrowed.
Given the state of Yggdrasil, rigid traditions seemed trivial.
But would her people benefit from such drastic changes? Would it be better to maintain some semblance of familiarity?
North’s mind raced away from her.
“If we were to marry, any offspring would be Fae and therefore, could not rule over Alfheim.”
Vali’s face changed, and he looked older than he ever had, his years showing in the heaviness of his expression.
“The world is going to change after this war. The division of races will not be as concrete—I can feel it in my bones. A new age is about to begin, and I don’t bloody care what race our younglings would be. I only want to give my people their best chance at survival.”
An arranged marriage.
North’s parents had tried this before she’d found Munin, or rather, before Munin had found her. He’d appeared in her life just as her parents had begun making arrangements with one of their advisors—an elderly Fae known for his cruelty.
It was one of the reasons she loved him. He’d come along and made her parents call off the future that left her suffering under the thumb of a horrid husband.
They’d been thrilled that Munin was highborn and fully supported the match. In hindsight, her parents had been suspiciously quick to call off the engagement, accepting Munin with open arms. North had been so relieved she hadn’t noticed how odd it had been.
She studied Vali, as if she might see directly into his soul.
He was a good male and would make a good king. The problem would be convincing her realm to accept a king who wasn’t Fae. But North had to admit that Vali was right. Times were changing, and she would rather bring her people into this new age as strong as possible.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, jarring her out of her thoughts. “Will you marry me?”
She paused for only a second longer.
“Yes.”