She came from nothing, and she was no one. She had no business spending any time with the crown prince, the man who would be her future Emperor. He didn’t have time to waste on people like her. Elecia’s words cemented themselves further in her consciousness.

“Vhalla?”

She hadn’t even heard Larel stir.

“Morning.” Vhalla finished dressing quickly.

“Are you all right?”

It was annoying how Larel missed nothing. “I’m fine.” Vhalla began breaking down the tent.

“Was it another dream?” Larel asked.

“Enough, Larel,” Vhalla sighed and straightened. The Western woman was silent. Vhalla should’ve been too, but there was an aching feeling in Vhalla’s stomach that put nastiness in her blood. “Why are you always pestering me? It’s none of your concern what I dream or don’t dream, what I eat or what I don’t eat.”

Larel’s face was expressionless.

“Just leave me alone for once.” Vhalla grabbed her pack and stormed off, leaving the rest of the tent for Larel.

She hated herself for those words. It wasn’t Larel’s fault. The class Vhalla was born into, the Night of Fire and Wind, the prince’s confusing and frustrating hot and cold attitude toward Vhalla. Larel had no control over any of it. Vhalla had just taken her frustrations out on someone who wasn’t expecting it.

Vhalla marched alone. She found a random corner of the host to fall in with away from Elecia, Aldrik, Fritz, Larel, and the Golden Guard. Fritz noticed instantly and was about to ride over to her when Larel stopped him. They found themselves engaged in a heated conversation that Vhalla tried to ignore. They were clearly talking about her.

When the march finished for the day, Vhalla had imagined every possible thing Larel, Fritz, and Aldrik could’ve said about her. Some of the things she felt guilty for even thinking they would utter, but somehow it still seemed plausible. Vhalla’s shoulders hunched, and her head dipped. She suddenly felt so tired.

“Vhalla.” Her head snapped up, turning to look up at the dark prince who had materialized at her side. “After everyone is settled, come and we’ll begin work.”

He still didn’t specify what work, and Vhalla felt odd under his studying assessment. After drifting through camp, waiting for Larel and Fritz to be away to strip her armor so she could avoid any odd confrontations, Vhalla finally dragged her feet to Aldrik’s tent. She came in the same woolen clothing she’d worn in the morning—that she’d been wearing for days.

The flap of his tent was open, and Vhalla paused politely in the entryway.

“My prince?” she asked softly. “Am I too early?”