The spite surprised even her, and everyone stood in a stunned silence. It was the first time she’d said it in a public place, the first time she’d assumed her new identity. They would think what they would about her—words would not change her reality. So why fight that battle? She had enough to worry about just surviving.

“Come with me, sorcerer.” The prince had clearly taken offense with her directness. “Grun, Daniel, I’ll deal with you later.”

“Baldair—” Daniel took a half step between Vhalla and the prince.

“Silence, soldier!”

Vhalla had never seen Prince Baldair so harsh. Daniel looked at her hopelessly as she followed the prince into camp. She knew she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. And her mood soured up until the point that Prince Baldair ushered her into his tent.

His tent was completely unlike Aldrik’s on the inside. He had an actual table and three chairs positioned around it. A single brazier made of bronze hung from the center of the tent and lit the room. Prince Baldair’s bed was larger—for reasons Vhalla could guess, given his reputation with women—and it appeared to be an actual mattress. She wondered how difficult it was for the horses to carry it all.

The prince closed the tent flap behind him and did a short circle around her, assessing Vhalla from head to toe. “Sit.” He motioned to a chair. “Or perhaps you’d rather I threw some pillows on the floor?”

Vhalla’s eyes widened, hearing the meaning between his words.

“You look uncomfortable.” The prince paused, his eyes reading hers. “I would think you’d be more at ease in a prince’s tent. Or is it just my brother’s?”

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“Today, I saw him in you.” Baldair squinted his eyes, as if he was trying to imagine Aldrik imposed atop her. “The way you moved, the way you were rushed by the fight. Tell me, is that the only way he’s been in you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vhalla hissed.

“I can’t recall the last time I saw Aldrik with a woman, at least one who wasn’t bought or given to him by our father as an attempt at finding a future Empress.” Baldair took a step closer to her. She didn’t know this prince. There was something turning him sour. He grimaced as he spoke, as if instantly regretting his words.

“Not another word,” Vhalla cautioned.

“Oh? Did you think he was some paragon of purity? I’ve seen him kill girls younger than you. I’ve seen him wind women up to crawl to his bed.” Prince Baldair frowned.

The tension in her muscles became so great that Vhalla feared it would snap her bones. “Speak about him again and I’ll—”