His hand balled so tightly into a fist that the skin had gone ghostly from lack of blood. It was impossible for Vhalla to have seen from across the courtroom during the original trial but his jaw was clenched to the extent that his face shook and trembled. The Emperor was speaking, but to Aldrik’s ears the words were blurred over the rush of hot anger in his head.

Aldrik’s emotions radiated clearly, unfiltered through the Joining-induced memory, as he left the courtroom. He couldn’t look at her. If he looked at her he would break. If he looked at her they would all know his worry on her behalf.

The moment the doors to Imperial quarters closed behind him and his family, Aldrik increased his strides, doubling the distance between him and his father. Vhalla could feel his magic trembling and pulsing with an undeniable need—a need to get to her.

“Aldrik,” the Emperor called.

He froze, turning. His face was expressionless, but she could feel the tornado of emotion ripping through his chest. The sight of his father filled him with panic.

“I need you in the war council; the North is getting too bold, and we will need to counter this aggression with force.”

“I will be there shortly,” Aldrik replied stiffly.

“You will come now.” The Emperor’s tone was casual enough, but something dangerous shone through his eyes.

She could feel Aldrik gather his courage, a strange thing she never thought the man known as the Fire Lord would need to do. “Clearly the guard’s definition of care is lacking,” Aldrik’s voice dripped venom. “I plan to educate them.”

“That is not your concern.” The Emperor waved the notion away, starting down a different hall.

“It is.” Desperation flooded Aldrik’s chest and overflowed into hers. “I told you, she can win you your war. I am merely protecting our interests.”

“Which is why I didn’t have the monster killed before she saw the light of day again.” The Emperor paused, glancing at his son. “The Empire’s interests, Aldrik?”

“Always for the greater good of our Empire.” The words were rehearsed. They’d been said so many times they spewed from Aldrik’s mouth without thought, completely void of emotion. They were so hollow that Vhalla could sense the dam that trembled in the prince, holding back a plea of, let me go to her. “You do not want her to die, Father. I told you, I can train her, mold her—”

“Right, right.” The Emperor turned to Baldair, who Vhalla had almost completely forgotten was there. “Baldair, fetch a cleric to tend to Aldrik’s pet.”

“Father...” Baldair frowned.

“Thank you.” The Emperor completely ignored the disapproving tones in his younger son’s voice.