For being a man who had a reputation for not being well loved, Aldrik had a natural talent for working the people into a frenzy. The cries of the masses nearly deafened her as he rose her hand to his mouth, kissing its back.
“I present to you all the woman I have chosen to be your Empress, the Lady Vhalla Yarl!”
After that, all hope for further announcement was lost as the raves for an Imperial wedding drowned out everything. Lord Ophain said a few more things to Aldrik as they began moving once more, but Vhalla couldn’t hear the words. Her free hand had been lost to the outstretched palms of the people surrounding them. They reached for her as though she was the hope by which their lives depended.
Vhalla would do all she could to not let that hope be in vain.
The cries echoed with them as they started down the drawbridge, finally free to move once more. They steered their mounts toward waiting stable hands, who stood immediately within the castle. Aldrik relinquished her hand for his reins once out of sight of the people, and Vhalla breathed a small sigh of relief at no longer being on display. As proud as she was to be his, there were some feelings that Vhalla knew would take time for her to become accustomed to.
“It is truly good to see you, Uncle,” Aldrik said as he dismounted.
“I prayed to the Mother every day for your safe arrival.” The two men briefly embraced as the horses were led away.
“I did not think I would ever have the opportunity to see you again,” Vhalla said as she dismounted and adjusted the cape about her shoulders.
“I confess, there was a time where I, too, was uncertain.” The lord rested both hands on her shoulders in a familial motion. “But I should have known the Mother would not intertwine two people so carefully, only to deny them.” Ophain released her and moved toward the castle. “Now, there is much to be done.”
“We will need to organize a careful timeline,” Aldrik agreed.
“Indeed, but first,” the lord of the West paused and gave a conspiratorial smile to Vhalla, “there is someone who I think very much wishes to see you.”
Vhalla stared at the lord while she mentally reminded her heart to beat. “Where is he?”
“Just up the stairs to the right when you first enter. We’ll all go together.”
She couldn’t wait. Vhalla bounded away as fast as her feet could carry her. Her heart pounded, and she felt dizzy. Every feeling that she had suppressed about her father traveling alone to Norin came rushing to her all at once. She prayed she hadn’t misunderstood the lord’s unspoken meaning about who waited to see her.
Vhalla skidded to a stop at the wide open doors to a parlor. They framed a man who stood looking out over the window at the city below. The trellised glass perfectly framed the street she had just rode upon.
Her father’s Eastern hair and complexion looked odd in the bright colors of Western fashions. She’d never seen him in a vest before, and it fit him so well that it nearly took years off his appearance. The man turned at the sound of the panting woman.
“Papa!” Vhalla cried.
“Little bird.” He didn’t quite share the same shock at her existence as she did for his.
Rex Yarl opened his arms and accepted his daughter—windswept, sun-kissed, sandy, armored—into his embrace. Vhalla held him fiercely, her face pressed into his shoulder. She hugged him as though he would disappear the moment she let go, like nothing more than a wishful illusion.
But he was still there as her arms finally slackened and Vhalla took a step away. Vhalla studied him carefully, looking for the smallest thing amiss. But her father was as he’d always been. Sun-leathered, burnished skin folded around his gentle smile.
“You made it.” She beamed from ear to ear. “You made it before the gate. You’re here, in Norin!”
“Did you ever doubt me?” Rex said with mock offense.
“Of course not.” Vhalla shook her head and allowed herself to fully believe her own half-truth. “How long ago did you arrive?”
“Not too long before you.” He motioned to a large recessed area before the hearth. “I hoped to be a pleasant surprise.”
Vhalla took in the room for the first time. The hearths were decorated in mosaic tile and precious gems that went from floor to ceiling and lined the bottoms of the wooden beams that broke up the clay ceiling. The floors were wooden and stained a deep red. Their polish picked up the silver accents throughout the space.
“Papa, you’re limping!” Her attention was quickly restored to her father the moment they started for the sitting area.
“It’s nothing.”
“What happened?” Vhalla asked, concern lacing every word as she unnecessarily helped her father sit.
“Oh, I was clumsy.” He laughed the laugh she so loved. “I made it all the way to Norin without problem only to slip on some stairs and bend my ankle oddly.”
Vhalla rolled her eyes and collapsed down next to him. She avoided the lush fabrics of the pillows and blankets in the sitting space and instead chose the hard wood around it. Her armor was likely to snag on fine fabric and her boots would grind in dust so fine it would be impossible to get out.
“You should be more careful,” she scolded, starting on the clips of her cape. “What if you really hurt yourself? You would’ve had me worrying the whole time while I was here.”
“And the last thing I want you doing is worrying during your wedding,” her father interjected.
Vhalla paused and time stopped. Her father had known about her and Aldrik in the East. But something had changed; the way he looked at her now was completely different from any gaze her father had given her before.
Rex picked up her discarded cape thoughtfully. His fingers ran over the emblem of the sun reverently even as he folded it. Her father, the soldier, he’d been the one to instill in her the deep concern and reverence for their Empire and those who stood as its figureheads. Now she had become a person her father would always look to.
It was an odd reversal from the man whom Vhalla had always admired.
“You looked like an Empress out there, little bird.” There was a note in her father’s voice that made Vhalla’s heart want to break.
“It was what she was born to do,” a voice as dark as midnight slid across the room in agreement.
Vhalla turned. Aldrik and Ophain had finally caught up. Elecia was in their company as well and stood beside a woman Vhalla assumed easily was Elecia’s mother. The woman had the exact same rich shade of darkened skin and beautifully curled hair that seemed to defy gravity in its brilliance.
Bringing up the last of the nobility were two more women. They both had straight dark hair and piercing black eyes. One was shorter and carried a little more weight on her form. She wore her hair cut at the shoulders with a side-swept fringe. The other was tall, but sturdy—much like Aldrik’s build—and had a long thick braid running down her back. Vhalla knew who they were without the need for introduction. Their high cheekbones and thin lips marked them of the Ci’Dan stock. Aldrik’s aunts.
“Let me help you.” Aldrik sat next to Vhalla as the rest of the company assumed places around the perimeter of the sitting area before the hearth. His fingers deftly reached for the clips that were in hard to reach places, allowing Vhalla to shed her metal skin.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Yarl,” Elecia’s mother said, breaking the short silence on behalf of the group.
“Likewise, Lady . . .”
“Ioine,” the woman finished for her with a bright smile. “Though no title is necessary.”
“Then I must ask the same, just Vhalla.”
“Are you certain?” The woman had an easy elegance about her. It was quickly apparent who Elecia modeled herself after.
“Of course. We are to be family.” Vhalla put the matter to rest with that simple truth.