"Does my mother know?" Herrick asked as the laughter started to die from his voice.
"I'm not sure," Liv responded warily.
"And Maude?"
Liv shook her head. It's not like they would know if she knew of their history— Maude never confided in anyone.
Resentment swelled in his chest before sorrow snuffed it out. He was still furious with her about leaving him behind in Dagsbrun, her stubbornness that seemed to control every aspect of her decision-making, and the fact that she continued to push him away despite the walls that he thought had crumbled between them. And yet, he had this need to tell her what Liv had confessed about their families.
The longer he spent away from her side, the more ridiculous this game they played became. Herrick's very bones ached to get up and find her. He continued to spiral down into his conflicting emotions about Maude when the fatemark on his chest burned, pulsing with a silver light similar to how it had glowed the day she had died in Logi only now it had a golden sheen to its edges.
Choosing to follow the growing dread in his gut, Herrick stood, his friends questioning where he was going so suddenly. Before he could make it to the door, a knock sounded, and it swung open. Filling its frame was a tall male, his deep, black hair hanging in loose waves around his broad shoulders. Dressed in fighting leathers, the matte black swallowing any light that was cast on them, the male had weapons belted to each hip and across his back— two small axes, one on each hip, made from an obsidian metal that was unfamiliar to Herrick and a longsword with the pommel in the shape of a wolf's head strapped across his back.
Though it had to be impossible, Herrick was sure he was looking at Baldr for a moment before the differences in their features became clear— the shape of their face and their brows were similar, but this male was all angular where Baldr was smooth. He tried to slow his racing heart, the pounding of his pulse in his ears almost drowning out the words being exchanged. He was being ridiculous, his trauma was projecting Baldr's face everywhere the longer he swallowed the emotions that threatened to tear him apart.
Liv stood, her face tightening. "Aeric, what's going on?"
The Elven male named Aeric brought his silver eyes to Herrick, his gaze penetrating as it took in Herrick's wide stance and how his hands inched toward the axe on his belt. When the Elven finally spoke, it was to him.
"I hear you are the man my daughter rushed to free from the grips of Harald Helvig."
His voice was dark as the night, the musical tilt to it sounding ancient and grave as he stepped forward to assess Herrick further.
"Your daughter?" Herrick asked, his voice sounding dull compared to the Elven in front of him.
Herrick glanced at Liv, sure that she had said her father had been killed. Her face hard, she shook her head slightly before motioning for him to look forward again.
The air became heavy, the silence growing as Herrick felt the fates swirling around them. He brought his eyes back to Aeric, but the Elven male was now looking over his shoulder at the most recent arrival behind him. Feeling like the floor was about to give out beneath his feet, Herrick took one staggering step forward toward the King of Shadow's daughter.
The pieces of information, the last few months he had spent at her side, began to click into place for him as his mind raced to catch up with the stark truth that stood in front of him. She had her hands on a short sword that was strapped to her hip, her shoulders thrown back in that way that always made Herrick's blood race because of her strength. Now, side by side the Shadow King, he could see the similarities. Their skin tone, the way their noses sloped, the confidence in their stance.
Still wearing the matte black fighting leathers she had taken to wearing, her deep wine-red hair, almost violet in the soft lighting of the hallway, spilled over her shoulders in a wild tangle. When it had been revealed that she was the Heir of Flame, she had been shaking and paralyzed with fear from the outing of her secret. Now, the shadows of her true kingdom swirled protectively around her legs as she seemed to fit into the space around her.
He'd guessed she must have been part Elven. But not the daughter of an Elvenking. This moment in time had been orchestrated by the gods, the final answers to the question of who she was fitting into place like a puzzle piece that completed the bigger picture.
The Heir of Shadows.
Hiseldr.
Maude.
20
Maude raced toward the open door to Gunnar's room where her birth father and his personal guard were gathered.
She hadn't had the chance to tell him yet, her stubbornness had bound her tongue in knots out of refusal to bend. There was no bigger fool than her, the gods knew that. Every excuse she had given herself for hiding her heritage now seemed ridiculous in the face of how easy it was to admit the Shadow King was her father. Herrick was too observant of her to not see the truth— he was only waiting for her to say the words. And now that chance was ripped from her fingertips as Aeric unknowingly dropped the information into his hands.
He couldn't find out this way. But it was too late.
When Maude came to a halt behind the Shadow King, they were both turning to face her, and she could see the truth play out on Herrick's face. His eyebrows knit together, and his body stiffened. Realization dawned as he went over their time together, his thoughts playing out on his chiseled features for once as his jaw seemed to slacken for a split second before pressing his lips together in a thin line.
Her shoulders thrown back, Maude weathered his acceptance of the obvious truth she still could not utter, waiting for a response. Seeing his golden eyes finally make their way to her moss green, Maude allowed a little bit of her apology to shine through. She was going to tell him when their stupid standoff was over. Foolish of her to have waited so long, especially when the confessions seemed so simple now.
Aeric was speaking again, his deep voice muffled as she and Herrick continued being absorbed by their bubble of tension. "I heard of your return to Nida and that you were successful in your mission. I wanted to invite you all to a celebratory suppertonight so we can discuss what happened when you returned to the Kingdom of Flame. An extra room has been set aside for you, General, near to this one and stocked with all the amenities."
Herrick nodded once at the Shadow King without looking away from her stare. "We thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty."
"I will leave you now, but look forward to speaking with you all tonight," he went on, unaware or purposely ignoring their contest.
