“Tell that to my guards,” she bit out.

The prince didn’t even try to hide a grimace. He pulled out a rag and another large leather bladder from the bottom of the box. Wetting the cloth, he handed it to her.

“Here, it’s only water.” He took a small sip, as if to encourage her. Vhalla didn’t think he’d spend so much time patching her up if he was about to poison her. She took the rag and wiped her face, pausing a moment to look at the mix of black and red that smeared it.

“I must look like death itself,” she mused at the soiled fabric.

“Worse than death.” He did not even try to flatter her. “After seeing you in the courtroom, my brother broke a mirror and a vase, and set a chair on fire on his way to the council rooms. I couldn’t get a cleric’s box fast enough.”

Vhalla laughed faintly and smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks. He pulled out a different cream and ran a thumb down her cheek. She stiffened slightly but she didn’t find his touch unsettling anymore, at least in this limited capacity.

“There we go. You’re prettier when you smile.” The prince reflected her expression on his face but the moment was short-lived. She had no reason to be happy.

“They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?” Vhalla asked calmly.

His smile faded. “They’re going to try,” he replied with a nod.

She respected him more for not lying to her. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Baldair shook his head. “Egmun was calling for it before Aldrik had even carried you back to the palace.”

Vhalla was distracted a moment, trying to imagine Aldrik carrying her anywhere. Prince Baldair cleaned up his box, leaving her the bladder of water, a group of clean rags, the jar of cream he’d used on her face, and a small vial of green looking syrup. She returned her attention to him as he stood.

“I figure, you have more you’d like to scrub off without me here. The salve you can use on any other cuts.” The prince motioned toward the items.

Vhalla glanced at the gash running up her thigh that disappeared under the sack dress and nodded. “Thank you,” she said honestly.

“The green stuff, Deepsleep, it’ll ease the pain and help you sleep.”

Vhalla looked at it uncertainly; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in a drug-induced slumber around Rat and Mole. “Please, don’t go,” she begged faintly.

“I’m not really supposed to be here.” He sighed and picked up the box.

“Then lock me in and take the key with you. Give it back to Mole tomorrow,” she pleaded with him. “Lock them away from me. If I have to be here all night with them, I’ll...” A shiver ran through her.

“Mole?” The prince asked. Vhalla put a finger on her cheek where Mole had his unfortunate facial feature. “Ah.” Prince Baldair considered her request for a moment and then locked the door with the key Mole had left in the lock earlier. He showed it to her before slipping it into his coat pocket. She nodded.

“My prince,” she said quickly. He looked at her, “Tell Aldrik...”

He glanced down the hall. Tell Aldrik, what? She hadn’t thought that far ahead. That she’d never forget their dance, for however long the rest of her short life was? That she enjoyed his company more than she ever expected? That she had yet to still sort through all the complex feelings surrounding him? In the end, she simply had to hope he knew.

“Please tell him, thank you, and I’m sorry.” The prince gave her a strange look and nodded. “And thank you too, Prince Baldair, for whatever reason you did this.”

“Be careful,” the golden prince cautioned. “You seem sweet, Vhalla. Clearly you have something magical about you, and while I don’t really understand it all, I do understand that Aldrik has fire in his veins.”

“He is a Firebearer,” she explained dumbly.

Prince Baldair chuckled softly. “I know what he’s called.” The prince shook his head, glancing away. “I don’t want to see you getting wrapped up in my brother’s dark world and hurt again. That’s all.”

He wasn’t interested in giving her a chance to formulate a response. The prince left with the key, and Vhalla heard his footsteps disappear down the hall. A cold shiver ran through her.

Alone, she was left with her thoughts and the demons that lived there. The memory of Sareem came back to her, and Vhalla made a futile attempt to catch her sobs with a palm over her mouth. It was pointless, and she was soon doubled over, her sobs echoing through the halls. Every time she blinked, she saw his face, his twisted and broken face staring at her with its one good eye.

Knowing the prince walked away with the key, she grabbed for the bottle of green liquid and took a large gulp. Before Mole and Rat returned, she used a little more water and the rags to finish a near pointless cleaning of herself, choking down tears. Vhalla applied the cream to all the surface wounds she could find and then laid down.

She was exhausted and the potion set in quickly. Her whimpers soon faded into silence and Vhalla passed out on the stone floor with little problem.

SURPRISINGLY, VHALLA SLEPT fairly well. Extreme exhaustion did wonders for sleeping through the night, no matter the conditions. Sitting up, Vhalla’s head throbbed and she rubbed the stiffness from her joints.