They had reached a wall bearing a tapestry. The prince pulled apart the molten metal of the tapestry’s frame, heated by only his fingertips, revealing a secret passage behind. He smirked at her expression.

“You did not think servants were the only ones with hidden ways of getting around, did you?” He chuckled darkly and entered the narrow passageway.

Vhalla glanced over her shoulder, she could still disappear into the library. She could go home. The light of the prince’s flame began to fade as he continued on without looking back. She never knew exactly what beckoned her to step into the passage after him, just before the secret door closed with a heavy clang.

“Where are we going?” Vhalla asked again.

“We are going to show you what you stubbornly refuse to believe, little parrot,” Prince Aldrik answered, his hands folded behind his back.

“I’m not a parrot.” She frowned. “And I’m not a sorcerer.”

“Your problem—” the prince began as he started climbing up the pitch black passage. Vhalla was left no other option than to follow closely behind the magic flame that hovered over his shoulder as the only source of light. “—is that you rely entirely on books.”

“What’s wrong with books?” she was forced to ask.

He stopped, turning on his heel to stare down at her. “What is wrong is that you cannot learn how to really do things from books.” He ignored her open mouth, continuing, “They are starting points for principle, theory, and concept. Your mind understands, but your body does not know until you perform the act yourself. Without action and practice, your hands will not oblige. Experience is a far greater teacher.”

“Tell me, Vhalla, have you ever made love to a man?” He closed the distance between them as he spoke. With a single step, the crown prince was painfully close after asking such a question. “Tell me, have you ever pleasured yourself ?”

Vhalla swallowed hard. Her brain betrayed her and she thought of clumsy experimentations on lonely nights. The guard, Narcio, flashed upon her mind without her command. Fleeting pain and the memories of brief satisfactions brought a hot flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, as though she would tell anyone any of that.

“Whatever it was, I doubt it was very good,” he sneered down at her. She wanted to hit him. “I will tell you why it was not. Because, Vhalla, you think and you watch, but you never do. You can read all the books in this library, be wiser than the master himself someday, and then you will die having never really done anything. You will have only ever lived through everyone else’s experiences.”

Vhalla stared up at him, at those cold judgmental eyes that threatened to pick her apart and lick her bones clean. Looking away only provided minimal relief. He was still there assaulting her senses. Resisting the urge to fidget, she brought her hands together, squeezing them tightly.

“So then, how do I do?” she asked, still avoiding his eyes. It was a potentially dangerous question given their recent conversation.

“You follow me, and you stop ignoring what is right before your eyes.” They continued walking up a swirling staircase into the heart of the palace. Sometimes they would curve off as the path split before heading up again. There were no windows, no lights, no ornamentation, no signs. She was well and truly lost.

By the time they stopped, Vhalla felt dizzy from going up all the stairs. Above them stood a wooden door impeding their progress. The prince unbolted it and pushed open the hatch. Like ice water running through her hair and down her shoulders, cold wind poured down into the stairway. It forced her to blink tears from her eyes and shield her face.

“Come,” he ordered, and she obliged.

They emerged into the night air in an impossible place. The wind took the breath right out of her lungs. They stood on a small landing, barely large enough for the two of them.

It felt like the top of the world.

They had climbed straight up through the servants’ halls, the public areas, past the Imperial Housing, to the top of one of the golden spires that she had only ever looked upon from far below.

Vhalla could see the castle stretching outward beneath her, its many tiers cascading down the mountainside and into the capital. The distant, flickering lights of the city mirrored the stars in the sky. Vhalla could see the dual peaks of the mountain, and if she stretched her vision towards the horizon, she could see the Great Southern Forest, which hid a road that could take her home.

“What do you think?” He had moved behind her. Even at such close proximity she could barely decipher his words through the howling wind.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed.

“I have heard it said that the Windwalkers were the children of the sky.”

His words barely registered as she looked upwards at the heavens above. It was an engrossing scene, as though she was at the very place where the earth and sky met. Vhalla took a tiny step forward, sweeping her gaze back to the glittering city below.

Perhaps it was her enchantment with the wonder surrounding her. Or perhaps it had been the wind filling her ears. Whichever, it masked his last footsteps. The prince placed his hands lightly upon her shoulders.

“Trust me,” he demanded, his lips barely brushed over her ear.

Vhalla did not even have a moment to turn her head before he pushed her effortlessly into the empty air beyond.