Vhalla sat back onto the couch with a relieved sigh. The past half hour hit her all at once, and she suddenly felt exhausted. Aldrik returned to his place next to her, placing his arm behind her, his side flush against hers, and she leaned into him instinctively. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she was pleased to find he made no motion away.

“Vhalla,” he whispered softly.

“Aldrik?” she replied, her eyes dipping closed as she allowed herself to enjoy his warmth.

“Did you mean what you said? Or was it just a moment?”

Vhalla sat up straighter to study his face. “What?”

“Earlier.” Aldrik glanced away. “You told me that, your feelings ...”

Vhalla paused, hesitant. Was he giving her the choice? Was he asking her to decide? He seemed unable to meet her gaze and looked across the room at nothing in particular. Vhalla took a shaky breath. Reaching out, she put her fingertips under his chin and guided his eyes back to hers.

“Aldrik, it was not an impulse,” Vhalla spoke slowly and deliberately. “It was not even the first time I had said it aloud.” She smiled softly at his surprise.

“When?” His lips barely moved.

“When did I admit it? Only after the sandstorm. When did it happen? Long before that.” She shrugged slightly; it was hopeless to attempt denial. Vhalla returned her hand to his, looking at their intertwined fingers. The sight of that alone filled her with joy.

“I tried,” he sighed, the sorrow in his voice contrasting starkly the tone of their conversations prior. “I didn’t expect it, then I didn’t want it to happen. I tried to explain it to you the day of the verdict. Being involved with me at all is dangerous.”

“I don’t care.” It came out of her mouth before she had time to filter it. But as he shook his head at her she found she didn’t regret it.

Aldrik chuckled softly and stood. “You’re a rather impossible woman.”

“Pot meet kettle.” Vhalla gave him a snarky grin.

She was rewarded with the rich sound of his laughter as Aldrik helped her to her feet. “I must do some work,” he explained his apologetic look.

“On what?” Vhalla stalled him, not ready to be dismissed.

“Strategy, planning for the troop addition, acquiring any extra rations we may need,” Aldrik listed.

“Could I help?” Vhalla was glad that she hadn’t thought the words through first, otherwise she may not have said them. Offering to help the crown prince with matters of state was too bold, too far beyond her station. Then again, so was kissing him. Vhalla shifted her weight from one foot to the other, weighing his surprised stare.

“Actually,” Aldrik thought aloud, “you could.”