Water's Wrath
Vhalla shouldn’t have been surprised when Victor was the one to appear not long after. A mask around his mouth and nose, he walked into the room with purpose. A short briefing from the clerics, a once-over of Baldair, and he set to work. For an hour, the minister lightly cooled the prince’s skin, each time colder than the last to not send his body into shock all at once. Vhalla retracted all negative thoughts she had on Victor, mentally sending a sincere apology—if he could save Baldair. She’d do whatever the man wanted if he healed Baldair. Eventually, nothing more could be done, and the sorcerer departed.
Baldair shivered. “It’s too cold.”
“You need it to be,” Vhalla soothed gently. “It won’t work if it’s not.”
“Vhalla, let me rest?” he asked.
“No, not now . . .” It was the third time he’d asked. “Stay awake, stay with us.”
His fever was down, thanks to her idea, and it had allowed enough time to lapse that the clerics could give him another round of potions. Baldair struggled to swallow. The first batch he coughed up, and Vhalla was the one to clean up the mix of blood and potion off his chest. She was going to fight. She was going to lead him by her example.
“Do you remember when I got in trouble on the march?” Vhalla said softly as she cleaned his collarbone and neck. “Grun, he really hated me, didn’t he? I guess a lot of them did. They were afraid.”
“They didn’t know you yet.” Baldair looked at her from under drooping eyelids.
“I suppose not,” she agreed.
“They didn’t know how . . . strong . . . the little girl from the library was.” Baldair struggled to keep in a cough.
“No, let the blood come up,” she insisted. “Or you’ll choke.”
He obliged her, and Vhalla set to cleaning again, covered in his blood.
“Vhalla, I am tired,” he reminded her.
“Don’t sleep yet,” she begged again and looked across to the Emperor and Empress. While Vhalla knew they’d never acknowledge it, her presence had saved them from being in the position of calling the shots around their dying son. How she hated her sovereigns. But this wasn’t about her. “Tell your mother about your favorite memory with her. Tell your father what the best thing he taught you was. Tell them how much you love them.”
Vhalla remained as Baldair spoke, cleaning up the blood and helping the clerics shift the prince as he needed. She heard the story of the first time he went riding with his father. She saw the Emperor affectionately put a hand on his son’s shoulder. She bore witness to the Heartbreaker Prince apologizing to his mother for never feeling like settling down with any woman she approved of.
Baldair told them everything a son could say to their parents, and then some. He made confessions. He reminisced. He told them of his love.
But something was still missing.
“Can Aldrik please come, just for a moment?” she asked softly. “He should be here.”
“No,” the Emperor’s voice responded sternly. “The health of the crown prince cannot be risked.”
“Just for a moment, please.” Vhalla looked at the blue-eyed man across from her. She braced herself to go against what she believed, that appealing to his humanity was foolish. “He’s your son. He’s Baldair’s brother. He should be—he needs to be here. Don’t do this to him. Don’t make him live without this moment.”
The Emperor regarded her thoughtfully.
“My Lord Solaris, this isn’t about you or me.” She remembered how adamantly the man had gone against her on principle in the North. “This is only about your sons.”
“Bring Aldrik in,” he commanded suddenly. “But only for a moment.”
Baldair looked at his father in shock, and Vhalla gave a breath of relief. A cleric left and returned soon after with a cautiously stunned Aldrik in tow.
“My prince.” The cleric paused their step a bit away from the bed as Vhalla was about to stand and give him her chair. “Do not go any closer, for your health.”
“Baldair.” Aldrik managed. His voice sounded as though he’d been screaming for hours, even though the man hadn’t said a word.
“Aldrik.” Baldair struggled to sit higher.
“Always the center of attention, aren’t you?”
Vhalla heard the crack of emotion to the crown prince’s voice.
“Annoying little brother, ‘til the end.”
“You are stronger than this,” Aldrik admonished.
“I know,” Baldair wheezed. “I am, aren’t I? Isn’t that what’s frustrating about it all?”
“You don’t lose,” Aldrik insisted.
“Not normally.” Baldair had a tired grin again. “Brother, I never got to finish paying back what I owe to you.”
“You are debt free.” Aldrik shifted his hands awkwardly as though he was trying to keep from fidgeting. “Get better, that’s all I ask.”
“We should go, my prince.” The cleric turned at a nod from the Emperor.
“Aldrik!” Baldair struggled to sit fully upright. The dark haired prince turned and looked at his younger brother. They couldn’t be more different while still needing the same things. “Aldrik, I love you, brother. I always have, even if I’ve been awful about it.”