“How do you mistake love?” Vhalla asked. Maybe she was mistaken also?

“There are many kinds of love,” Larel said.

“Are there?”

“Do you love Aldrik as you love your father?” A grin was in Larel’s voice.

“Family is different!” Vhalla pushed the other woman’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Larel said softly, stilling Vhalla. The Western woman leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on Vhalla’s forehead. “I don’t love you as a lover. But I love you wholly and completely nonetheless.” Vhalla suddenly felt like crying. “And I love Aldrik—but as my friend; I didn’t and don’t want him between the sheets. When I kissed him, it was strange, awkward; there was nothing to it other than a kiss.”

“I see,” Vhalla barely said over another yawn. She wondered if she kissed Aldrik what she’d feel.

“Let’s go to sleep, Vhalla. It’s late.” Larel shifted closer, before settling.

Vhalla closed her eyes. She imagined Larel’s slow and steady breathing to be Aldrik’s. She imagined it was his warmth radiating close by. Vhalla sighed softly. There was an ache that made her legs shift under the covers. If it was the alcohol or the exhaustion that brought her to admitting it, she knew without doubt, she wanted the crown prince as a woman—as a lover—would.

Chapter 16

THROUGH THE OTHERWISE dark room a slit of light streamed between the curtains, causing Vhalla to blink blearily and her head to pound.

“I feel sick,” she groaned softly.

“You drank too much,” Larel mumbled.

“You two, silence,” an agonized whisper ordered.

Both women sat up at the sound of the male voice.

Vhalla peered over the edge of the bed to see a disheveled Fritz collapsed on the floor. “When did you get here?” She paused. “Why are you here?”

“Larel wasn’t in our room, and I was worried. Then I got sleepy,” Fritz groaned, rolling away from the light. “No more talking.”

Just when Vhalla was going to give into the idea of sleeping the day away, there was a knock.

“Damn that person to the Mother’s fiery justice,” Fritz spat spitefully.

“Vhalla?” It was Daniel.

Vhalla pulled herself to her feet and tugged at her rumpled, alcohol-smelling clothing. Larel and Fritz had already collapsed again when she opened the door. Daniel seemed to be in a better state, but not by a large margin. His hair was wet, and Vhalla guessed a bath would likely help her also.

He chuckled when he saw her. “Still sleeping?” he remarked rather obviously.

“No, practicing an ancient Tower ritual,” she retorted with a tired grin, leaning against the doorway. Vhalla scanned the tray he held in his hands. “You come bearing gifts?”

“A little something. May I?” Daniel held up his offering of food, water, and some vials.