“Are you and Larel only friends?” She wanted to hit herself the moment the question slipped from her lips. It wasn’t any of her business, and the prince’s answer wouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter how comfortable he had seemed in the other woman’s room. He could be with whoever he pleased, Vhalla reminded herself.

“Larel,” Aldrik said after a thoughtful second. Vhalla shifted uneasily at his pause. Heat began to rise to her cheeks, she had been so foolish. “I suppose she is like Sareem is to you. I have known her since I was a child. She was different from the others and seemed to be willing to speak with me, work with me, without fawning over the prince.”

Vhalla inspected the hem of her shirt. They were both Western, she mused, and Vhalla had no idea if Larel had a noble background or not. Most apprentices had some connection to nobility, which was how they became apprentices rather than servants.

“Do not fidget,” Aldrik said gently, resting his fingertips on the back of her hand. Vhalla jumped at the contact. “Yes, she is just a friend.”

The heat of his fingertips burned like the weight of his eyes, and Vhalla was entranced by both. They danced around something that neither seemed ready to admit. Vhalla did not think on it. The only thing she thought of was how close the prince’s face was to hers as he reached to touch her hand.

“Do you ever practice your sorcery?” Vhalla asked suddenly, diffusing the moment.

“I used to practice more frequently.” He straightened away and placed a hand on his hip. Vhalla instantly remembered his wound. She busied her mouth with another bite of food to avoid asking another stupid question. “Will you join the Tower?”

Vhalla stopped mid-chew. Untutored in decorum, she placed the half-eaten sandwich back in the box and wiped her palms on her knees. Aldrik’s eyes grazed over the action but he said nothing as she worked through her response.

“Aldrik,” she whispered softly, staring at the crimson roses that were their only company.

“Vhalla?” Confusion about her demeanor was evident in his voice.

“If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?” When had word Eradicated begun to make her uncomfortable?

“What do you mean?” He arched a dark eyebrow.

“The Bond.” Vhalla looked to him, placing a palm on the bench between them. Her fingers almost touched his thigh. “You said it’s a magical connection, that it saved your life. If I am Eradicated, what will happen to you?”

“Do not concern yourself with that.” He shook his head. The motion caused a stray piece of hair to fall forward to arch around the side of his face.

“Do you know?” she asked with pursed lips. There wasn’t any point to her asking. Vhalla acknowledged to herself that eradication was no longer an option.

“I do not,” he relented with a small sigh. “But I wish for you to make your decision for yourself, not because—”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Vhalla interrupted the prince. He blinked at her. “Aldrik, I couldn’t make a decision if I knew it would hurt you.”

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because—” The sharp cry of an iron gate followed by the loud clang of it closing interrupted her. Vhalla looked to the door.

Heavy footsteps ground upon the gravel path. Vhalla barely recognized the gait of the step, but Aldrik did instantly. He straightened, and Vhalla did the same. The man that she had just spoken with so casually suddenly wore a face as hard as stone.

“Brother!” another male voice called energetically. “Brother, are you here?”

Two shadows appeared outside the fogged glass of the greenhouse, their outlines blurry and indistinguishable. The door to the gazebo opened, and a stocky prince walked in boldly. The man Aldrik had been with the day prior entered with him—the head of Senate. Prince Baldair looked across the room to Aldrik and then Vhalla.

“I did not realize you had company, brother.” A slow smile crept across his features.

“Baldair, I believe we have discussed—at length—that I am not to be disturbed within my garden.” Aldrik’s voice was tight and tense.

Vhalla missed the awkward exchange of the princes as the senator’s stare sent a shiver down her spine. The older man squinted his eyes, and a satisfied smirk grew from the corners of his mouth. The senator recognized her.

“I suppose I can see why now,” Baldair laughed. “Please forgive me, miss...” The head of Senate was not the only person to recognize the library apprentice in their midst. “You’re the girl from the library, the clumsy one! Vhalla, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.” She couldn’t stop a stutter as the prince crossed the room and took her hand, kissing its back.

He had remembered her, though she wished for something more than her clumsiness. He had a brilliant smile, and Vhalla relaxed under his icy blue eyes. Her memories of the Heartbreaker Prince’s radiance didn’t do him justice.

“I didn’t expect a prince to remember my name,” she murmured in reply.

“No!” he gasped. “One as lovely as you should never be forgotten. And if you’re in the garden, I am sure my brother has not once forgotten your name.” He nudged Aldrik playfully.

Aldrik simply stared up at his brother, unmoving from his seat. She looked to the elder prince, confused by his dark glare.