Vhalla had taken no more than three steps when the first member of the Black Legion noticed her. He walked over, giving her the salute of the Broken Moon. This inspired the next to come up and offer her thanks and praise. Her eyes caught Aldrik’s in confusion and wonder. He heaped silent admiration upon her, and Vhalla felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

It was slow going due to being stopped at every step. The Black Legion had been waiting at the door, but Vhalla noticed that the majority of the people in the square were soldiers. They paused what they were doing, stopping at the sight of her.

A man of rank drew the sword that was strapped to his hip. She glanced at Aldrik nervously, remembering the last time she’d encountered the swordsmen. The man brought his feet together and stood tall. His left hand went to the small of his back as he raised his sword over his chest and face in a pristine salute with his right.

She wasn’t certain what he wanted from her, and Vhalla nervously took another step. An older woman repeated the motion. Swordless, she brought her right fist to her chest in salute.

Vhalla took another step. Two more stepped forward in salute.

Every step Vhalla took there was another, and another, and another. They began to line her path, holding their salutes in reverence even after she’d moved on. Vhalla turned as the entire square—man, woman, child, soldier, and citizen—showed their own display of reverence.

“Do they always do this for you here?” Vhalla whispered to Aldrik. The attention made her nervous.

He stared at her, bewildered. “Vhalla,” Aldrik leaned close to her ear. “They are not saluting me, they are saluting you.”

No one said a word; they held their honors quietly, and their silence spoke so loudly in her ears that Vhalla wanted to cry. For the first time since becoming a sorcerer she felt a mass looking at her with respect, with praise. As much as it hurt her body, she held herself taller.

The Emperor and Prince Baldair were waiting on the outside the building Aldrik was leading her toward. Emperor Solaris surveyed the scene with his ocean-blue eyes, landing on the woman who was being led by his eldest son and saluted by his people. He folded his hands behind his back in a position that struck Vhalla as very Aldrik.

“If it is not the hero of the day.” The Emperor spoke loud enough that most of the square heard.

Vhalla dropped into a clumsy kneel, her knees popping and aching.

“My lord, thank you for your invitation,” she said respectfully, lowering her eyes.

“Stand, Vhalla Yarl. You are the most welcome savior of my army,” he commanded lightly.