Vhalla blinked in shock that she hadn’t put it together sooner. She had no proof, but something in her gut told her she was not wrong. The rumors of her being in the palace, the casual attitude toward royalty, it all made sense. Only people who came from wealth and affluence acted the way Elecia did. As if the world was a toy for her entertainment.

“What is it?” Elecia asked. “Giving up already?”

Vhalla returned to her assault. “Elecia.” She threw a punch, the other woman dodged. “Tell me—how old—were you—when you—first came—to the palace?” Her words were punctuated with her fists.

Elecia took a step back and paused. “What are you talking about?” The woman arched an eyebrow.

“Was it for a gala? Or was your father or mother on official business?”

Elecia’s eyes widened, and Vhalla resumed the attack. The woman recovered slowly and her blocks were suddenly sloppy. “Did you sleep in a guest suite?” She threw right. “Or did your family stay somewhere else in the upper part of town?”

An annoyed frown crossed Elecia’s lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you’re an awful liar,” Vhalla spat back.

Elecia looked at her in shock. “What about you, Vhalla Yarl? How exactly did you, less than a slip of a common girl, catch the eye of the crown prince? A nothing like you fraternizing with him!”

That got Aldrik’s attention. He quickly approached from where Larel and Fritz sparred.

“You have to know that you don’t deserve even—”

Vhalla lunged with a shout, not letting Elecia finish another wounding word. Elecia dodged easily and put a fist in Vhalla’s stomach. The woman’s arm felt like a rock sinking into her abdomen, and Vhalla wheezed for air instead of crying out.

“Elecia!” Aldrik shouted as Vhalla doubled over, holding her stomach and coughing. He quickly crossed the remaining gap, standing between the two women.

“You think that—” Elecia cast a finger in Vhalla’s direction, “—will ever be anything?” She threw her head back and laughed.

“Elecia, stop this,” Aldrik growled.

“Oh yes, defend your pet,” she sneered back.

Larel and Fritz stared in shock.

“Elecia,” he ground out through grit teeth, his hands balled into fists.

“Are you finally going to fight me? I’ve been waiting for a real challenge.” The dark-skinned woman said, putting her fists up. “It’s been far too long since we last went a round.”

Vhalla managed to tilt back onto her feet, still holding her stomach as it spasmed in pain.

Aldrik stomped over to Elecia and grabbed her by the collar of her plate. He jerked her to him and leaned in to place his face right in front of hers. “If you want me to spar with you like an adult, acting like a petulant child is not going to yield results, ‘Cia.”

Elecia pushed him away with a frown and a shake of her head. “Fine,” she said with a glint in her eye. “You continue to play your games with them, Aldrik,” she spat back.

Vhalla felt her mouth drop open in shock at the other woman’s use of Aldrik’s name.

“But—I will tell you again—that lowborn bitch isn’t worth an ounce of what you give her.” Elecia turned and stomped through the forest noisily. The brush and trees shrunk around her before curling back even more overgrown and thorny than before.

Aldrik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving himself a moment before turning and kneeling in front of Vhalla. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. Her stomach still felt like it was turned inside-out. Fritz and Larel hovered a few feet away from them in obvious uncertainty.

“Let me see.” The prince reached out, and Vhalla removed her hand. It hurt to straighten her back. “Take off your armor,” Aldrik ordered, and she began to fuss with the latches up the front. “Here,” he said softly and reached out, helping her from the bottom. Vhalla hunched her shoulders, let her hair fall in front of her face, and hid her shame.

Aldrik took her scale from her; a few of the small plates were dented around the abdomen.

He sighed audibly. “I will fix this tonight, and have it to you by morning.”

She looked down at her chain; it appeared to be undamaged. There was a moment of silence and a soft night breeze ruffled her hair. Aldrik reached out and clasped a hand over her shoulder.

“She is ...” He sighed. “Do not pay what she says any mind.”

Vhalla nodded silently. It was a nice sentiment. But once some things were said they could never be unheard, and the brief exchange was already repeating in her ears.

Aldrik nodded back at her before standing, turning to a shocked silent Larel and Fritz. “Larel, take her back to your tent. You may have to burn through one or two of those altered shrubs.” He glanced at Elecia’s path out. “Fritz, come with me. I am sure Vhalla has internal bleeding from a hit like that, and I will not have her riding a horse tomorrow without getting a potion in her tonight.”

They both nodded, and Larel slipped Vhalla’s arm around her neck, helping her to her feet.

“It’s not that bad,” Vhalla insisted softly, not wanting to make any more of a scene.

“There’s no shame in accepting help. This march is too long to justify acting too strong now,” Larel told her sternly, yet gently.