The false Windwalker was knocked off her mount, she fell backwards and out of her saddle, an arrow protruding from her face. The Imperial company stared in shock, and the Northerners hollered in victory, making a calculated retreat. One by one the Imperial soldiers turned to the Emperor with apprehension.

“Leave her.” The Emperor turned his horse forward.

Serien lingered, longer than she likely should have, to stare at the body of the dead woman. It could have been her. That woman had died for Vhalla Yarl, and Vhalla Yarl didn’t even know her name.

The land became rockier as it elevated. Serien knew there weren’t mountains in the North, not like the South, but some of the bluffs were beginning to grow to an impressive scale. That night they had the fortune of caves and caverns to hide within. It was the first time the soldiers could relax and most capitalized on the opportunity.

Serien huddled in a nook in the rock face, protected on all sides. She rested her elbows on her knees and stared listlessly into the sunset haze. They were already a week into the march. Another two weeks and they should make it to Soricium. She gripped her arms tightly. She’d see Aldrik then. Considering the alternative would be too much for even Serien to bear.

Given the fact that it was the first opportunity at privacy, she shouldn’t have been surprised when a messenger tracked her down not long after sunset, leading her around the corners of boulders and into a small cave. He left quickly after.

“You wanted to see me, my lord?” she said, giving a formal salute—the salute of a soldier and not of the Black Legion.

“Yes.” The Emperor stood, placing his hands behind his back. “I suppose you want thanks for your act of heroism.”

She pursed her lips, waiting for him to get to the point. Waiting for him to arrive at the reason why he waited for days after that battle, why he waited for privacy.

“It’s not every day a commoner has the opportunity to save the life of the Emperor.” He walked to the opposite side of his small campfire. With the way the light illuminated his face she could almost see Aldrik’s brow in his.

“It was my honor.” He was going to make her play the game.

“Indeed,” the Emperor agreed. “It was because you are mine. Your freedom, your life, your future rest in my hands, Vhalla Yarl.”

The use of her name shredded through Serien, and it sapped the strength of her alter ego.

The Emperor didn’t miss the wavering in her eyes. “I want you to be very clear on why you are here.”

“I know why.”

“Why?” he pressed.