She used it the next night, and the night after that. Once, Serien thought briefly about the other woman’s powers, about reaching out her mind from her body in the cover of darkness to a certain prince. But the idea was quickly squelched. That prince did not belong to her, he and Serien were nothing. She drifted to sleep that night debating with herself. If Serien and Prince Aldrik were nothing, then why was she sleeping alone in the cold?

By the third night the other soldiers had begun to notice that she was aloof and different.

“You practice with Lord Taffl a lot,” remarked one of the soldiers who marched next to her.

“It is an honor,” Serien said dryly.

“You someone special to the lord?” they asked.

She didn’t say anything.

“Hey, I asked you a question.” The soldier waved his hand in front of her face.

She continued to look forward.

“What’s wrong with you?” the man huffed.

“Leave the lady alone,” Daniel ordered from atop his horse.

“Definitely someone special,” the soldier mumbled to his friend.

The words stayed with Serien the whole day, and she confronted Daniel about them later. Serien threw her sword into the sand. Her leg was throbbing, likely from not taking off her greaves for nearly a week straight. Her calf was a mess she couldn’t bring herself to look at.

“They think there’s something between us.”

“And?” Daniel sheathed his sword, picking up hers.

“We can’t keep doing this or they’ll think—”

“What?” He handed the sword back to her. “What will they think?”

“That there’s something between us.” Serien didn’t take the weapon.

“So what?”

“They can’t,” she insisted.

“Why not?” Daniel shrugged but his eyes betrayed hurt.

“Because we’re ...” Her voice faded as he took a step closer to her.

“What? What are we?” he asked softly.

She finally took the sword sheathing it in frustration.

“I don’t have words for it either, yet.” Daniel laid himself emotionally bare before her. “But I want to help you, I want to look out for you. I know I’m not even supposed to know who you are, but I do and I’m thankful for it.”

Serien shook her head, trying to unhear his words.

“Look at me,” he said softly. She shook her head again. “Vhalla, look at me.”

Her attention snapped to him at the mention of her real name. It crumbled her mask and tore down the walls she’d tried so hard to build. It made the pain worse and the truth harder to bear.

“Don’t call me that,” she begged. “Please, Daniel, don’t call me that.”

“It is your name.” He quickly pulled off his gauntlet. She stilled when his skin made contact with hers, his hand along her jaw. “Why did they take it from you?”

“To keep me safe,” she hiccupped softly, losing the fight with tears.