“He’s fine.” But her voice was tentative. Althea sighed. “No, he’s not. He’s not fine, honey.” I put a hand to my mouth again, felt tears running over my fingers.

“Is he—is—” But I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t bring myself to use the word dying.

“No,” Godmother Althea said. This time, she meant it. I lifted my eyes to Torden’s, and he nodded, encouraging. “He can’t do much without getting real tired. But Dr. Pugh and Dr. Gold say they’re doing their best.”

Torden passed me a handkerchief and I wiped my nose, nodding, though she couldn’t see me. “Has Alessandra made any moves?”

“Nothing obvious.” Godmother sighed. “She seems just to be . . . waiting.” She paused. “Do what you have to do, sweet girl, but don’t stay away any longer than you have to. I just don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

I buried my face in my hands, racked by silent sobs.

Torden cleared his throat. “Miss—ah, Sister Althea?”

“Yes?” My godmother’s voice turned curious. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Prins Torden of Norge,” he said evenly. “I’m Selah’s—well, she’s here visiting me.”

“I see.” My godmother’s voice was wry. I swallowed, wiping my nose with Torden’s handkerchief.

“Sister, I wanted to ask Selah a very particular question,” he said slowly, brown eyes never leaving mine. “I know your government chose me, but it sounds like your opinion and her father’s are what really matter to her.”

My heart stilled in my chest at the desperate bob of his Adam’s apple, the nervous blink of his perfect rose-gold eyelashes. Not all the spears in Asgard had such power to undo me.

“A question, hmm?” Godmother Althea asked.

“Yes.”

I didn’t understand. Torden and I had worn in the lines of our exchange so well I could have recited them in my sleep. I can’t stay. You can’t go. “What are you doing?” My voice shook.

“What if I went home with you, just for a little while?” Torden asked.

But you can’t, I almost blurted. Not with things as they were.

“For a little while?” asked Godmother Althea before I could speak.

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Godmother, the Council set me up with all suitors with hereditary obligations, who couldn’t come back to Potomac. I—” But I didn’t want to talk about other boys. Not with Torden standing here, eyes burning into mine.

“I see.”

I could imagine my godmother’s face, forehead furrowed, one eyebrow cocked.

“If I come back with you, you can see to your father and appease your Council,” said Torden. “Then, Sister Althea, maybe you can help us figure something out.”

“But what about . . .” I trailed off.

About Aleksei and your father. About your mother and Týr and Vidarr and Váli. About Hodr, exiled, and your house, falling apart around your ears.