Chains of Moonlight Chapter Fourteen

Veremund could taste his victory just as much as he did the blood from his split lip.

It was far slower going than Emmerich or their father wanted, but it was working. She was talking to him, laughing when he raked his real self over the coals, and trying and failing to hide her smiles and blushing behind the tips of her wings.

She was at the bars separating them just as much as he was. She didn’t pull away when he reached through them, touching her hands and forearms. He hadn’t tried more yet, partially because with the bars between them, there was only so much he could do, and also because his propriety warred with his devotion to victory.

He was grateful she’d taken to keeping his cloak on her all the time, mostly as a blanket so she didn’t have to fool with it and her wings. Either way, she was far more properly covered, so Veremund didn’t have to worry as much about his staring being interpreted as base and lascivious. The strange sensations in his chust when he did just made the act more convincing.

He could stare all he wanted with the faux adoration pouring out of eyes that weren’t his, and he most certainly did.

Aesira was lying on her side, fiddling with one of her feathers that had molted. He leaned against the bars and was staring down at her, a soft smile on his lips and that look in his eyes.

He’d be really impressed if she still felt nothing for Ulkos with the way he looked at her. If Veremund ever looked at one of the elven ladies at court the way he looked at Aesira, they’d be swooning into his arms.

He resisted the urge to reach up and touch his hair.

Well, maybe if his hair was pure silver like Emmerich’s they would. That wasn’t the point. Veremund had no intention of ever using it on another woman.

“Your brother, are his wings like yours?”

Aesira lowered the feather and looked up at him. Her cheeks dusted pink when she saw the way he was looking at her. She immediately looked back down at the feather and said, “Yes, sort of. We have the same colors, but the pattern…”

Aesira pushed herself up and drew her wing over, sweeping it over her. She began to point to the tawny designs speckling across the cream. “See, mine go like this, the tawny is more clustered on this layer of my primaries, and stronger here at the bottom with the gradient, but then you’ve got these little dark brown stripes that line up and go across my whole wing, primaries, secondaries, and tertials. I’ll spare you the boring details about the difference and what they all do, but visually you see how the patterns of my feathers build to make the pattern of my wing, right?”

He nodded, at this point he was certain he could paint them with his eyes closed with how he’d memorized every little detail.

She gestured again. “My brother’s wings, his stripes are higher, wider too. I have more cream. See here? On his wings, this cream section is half the size, and a darker tawny. His wings are bigger than mine too, he’s taller. The taller the valkyrie, the wider the wingspan, so his feathers are a little bigger too. So when you see us standing together, it’s easy to pick out we’re siblings, but they’re not the exact same.”

Veremund hummed as she drew her wing back in and his fingers twitched. It was only his will power that kept him from reaching out and touching them. She nodded toward his hair. “What about you? Your sister, does she have the gold too?”

“Oh.” Veremund did finally reach up and let himself run his fingers through his knotted hair, twisting the gold ends. “Actually, no. We don’t actually look that much alike. See, I inherited the gold, but she got the orange, our father has the orange.”

Aesira was now the one with a spark in her eyes as she stared at his hair. Veremund’s ego started to swell before he remembered it wasn’t his hair. It wasn’t real.

None of this was real.

He was just playing a part.

“Are you the only one with the gold? How does that work?”

Veremund laughed. “My mother had the same hair I did, that’s where I got it from. All my siblings take after our father.”

Aesira sat up straighter, eyes widening. “Wait, siblings—as you say—multiple?”

Her Iubian Elvish had improved greatly over the last few weeks, but some words she stumbled over or he had to repeat himself when she didn’t fully understand. It did make things difficult since he couldn’t reveal how much valkyrian he knew to help.

He nodded. “I have more than just my sister.”

She grabbed at the bars. “All this time you haven’t mentioned any others!” She looked him over and murmured, “Maybe you can keep secrets.”

He grinned. “Maybe I can, but not from you.”

The blush returned and she immediately dropped her gaze. Fascinating.

He was certain now, with how she responded to his subtle flirting, unable to look at him, blushing and smiling, but not letting him see it, she had no lover at home, and it seemed maybe she never had.

It wasn’t the response he’d been expecting from a woman who was the Captain of the Guard, but it was endearing. There was at least something she wasn’t so confident and sure of. She wasn’t completely cold and frigid.

Good. She was too young to be the battle hardened, jaded soldier she’d been presenting herself as. There was still some innocence left within her. Dare he even call it girlish-ness?

Not to her face.

But the moments she laughed without bitterness or hid her sweet smile was the highlight of every day or night.

It’s what he thought about when he took Emmerich’s punches, and he counted down the seconds until he was back in front of her, desperate to say whatever it took so that she graced him with even the smallest of smiles.

For the purposes of her eventually telling him what he needed to know. He had a promise to keep, and this was just one small step in his plan.

She was just an obstacle he would conquer.

Everything out of his mouth was a lie. Even the things that weren’t.

“Fine.” He cleared his throat. He needed to keep his focus. “If you must be so nosy—”

“You want to call me nosy?”

“Quiet, nosy, if you want answers.” He flashed her a smirk as she grabbed at the bars, her own lips twitching in a smile. She sat back on her heels, his cloak having fallen to her lap from her movement.

She pursed her lips and gave him a pointed look.

“Thank you,” Veremund said, shifting to face her. “I have more than just the one sister I’ve mentioned. In fact, I have two sisters and a younger brother.”

Had.

Semantics.

“You’re a middle child. That makes so much sense,” she said. “But you clearly have a favorite.”

It was easier to keep his stories straight if they were as close to the real one as possible.

“I guess I’m just that transparent.” Veremund shrugged. “Obviously some of my favorite memories are with my older sister. I’ve told you most of them by now.”

“That’s the one you were going to visit when you were captured, right?”

He nodded, and he was starting to regret going for simplicity in the fraction of authenticity he had. The words on his tongue tasted like ash.

“I was. I don’t… I don’t see her often these days.” How long had it been since he’d brought Moon Roses to the grave? “We live different lives, you know? I’m a palace guard in Auror, and she is…” He could feel the crack threatening to come through and make his voice waver. He didn’t have to tell the real story. He couldn’t.

This was a better story anyway.

“She is happily married, far away from Auror.” Veremund swallowed, thankful the lie came out with as little resistance as possible. “She’s the kind of happy it makes you sick with envy. The kind where of course I’m happy for her, but also, does she have to be so perfectly happy with everything she’s ever wanted when you’re so far away from your own desires?”

“You approve of her husband then?” Aesira let go of the bars and leaned her side against them.

A scream echoed in Veremund’s head. The shadows around them seemed to grow longer and larger even though he had perfect control of his magic.

Veremund closed his eyes, voice coming out thicker and thicker with every false word. “Oh, I do. He’s the best, and that was exactly what she deserved. Nothing but the very best of men for my sister. Honestly, her husband puts us all to shame, he’s so good and protective. He’s kind, but sun above, if anyone ever so much as whispered an insult to her, they’d be answering to him. With the standard he sets, I don’t see how anyone could ever compete.”

Fingertips brushed his, and he opened his eyes to see Aesira hesitantly reaching across the bars to him. She whispered, “Any children?”

Veremund licked his lips. “Three. She always wanted at least three. We’ll see if she manages four, it’s not common among our kind to be able to have that many, but she always talked about how she wanted a little brood trailing behind her and tugging at her skirts. I’m thankful she was so fond of me doing so as a child it inspired her to want that many.”

Aesira shifted her hand so her palm covered his. “Maybe Lady Fate will bless her, especially since it runs in your family.”

Veremund bit his tongue, swallowing his scoff. The valkyries and their foolish Lady Fate. Now wasn’t the time for that argument.

“Maybe,” he whispered.

Never.

All he had to do was close his eyes and he could see her in the bed, her gesturing for him to come closer and feel the baby kick. How she’d tussled his hair and told him he was going to be a wonderful uncle, even though he was still a child himself. When he caught her hand and pushed back her sleeve, he’d asked her where the bruises on her wrist came from and she told him she’d worn a bracelet far too small for her wrist and that he shouldn’t worry about it.

But he had anyway.

And it hadn’t done anyone any good.

Aesira squeezed his hand, her own voice thick. “I’m sure they miss you just as much as you miss them.”

If Veremund spent another second talking about Maelis, he was going to break. It was too real.

It was too fresh even decades later.

“Tell me about your other siblings.”

Now that, Veremund could do. At least for one of them.

“My brother is a brat.”

Aesira’s laugh was going to ring in his ears the next time Emmerich clocked him in the jaw.

He opened his eyes and looked over at her as she tried to stifle her laughter. He said, “I’m dead serious. That’s why I haven’t talked about him before.”

Aesira waved her hand as she caught her breath. “Please, I have to hear what exactly he’s done to earn that distinction from you.”

Veremund glared at her. “Because he is, and if you’d seen everything I had, you would agree with me.”

She’d probably have a few harsher things to say about Emmerich if she knew the truth.

Which she never would.

“If I have to put it succinctly, it’s because since the moment he was born, the world began to revolve around him. That would make anyone a brat if the whole world catered to them simply for existing.” Veremund huffed. Aesira moved to pull her hand back, but he’d already laced his fingers through hers and pulled them through the gap in the bars. “The worst part is, because it’s all he’s ever known, he’s completely blind to the fact that’s not how the world works for the rest of us. The rest of us don’t get everything we want handed to us without working for it.”

Aesira shifted closer and her voice shifted up. “Ulkos… are you bitter?

“I am being factual.” Veremund narrowed his eyes. “I promise you; he is self-absorbed and infuriating.”

“All younger siblings think the world revolves around them. It’s our job,” Aesira said with a laugh.

“You and my younger brother are nothing alike. I’m sure your brother would agree that you’re not nearly as awful as he is.”

Veremund couldn’t imagine there were any two younger siblings as different as Aesira and Emmerich.

Aesira’s face fell, and her grip loosened, but she didn’t completely pull her hand away. She lowered her gaze. “I… I don’t know what he’d say about me now.”

“He’d say how proud he is of you, I’m sure.” Veremund squeezed her hand. How could anyone not be?

“I hope so,” Aesira whispered. “That’s all I wanted. He’s given up so much for me. That’s why I’m here. I just… I just wanted to make him happy.”

“I don’t follow,” Veremund said, mentally cursing the bars that kept him from pulling her into his arms at that moment.

“It’s…” Aesira looked up at the barred window. “It doesn’t matter now. Now I’m just Princess Ragna’s old Captain of the Guard who will be known only for failing to escort Ragna safely to Iubar and back.”

This was his chance. Why were they going?

The question was on the tip of his tongue. Would she tell him?

“It matters. You’re not dead yet.” But… when he had what he wanted, she would be. They’d have no more use for a valkyrie once he’d extracted all the valuable information from her. And Veremund would have no argument to present as to why they should keep her.

Why would he even want to keep her?

“So… you became captain for him. What’s his name again?”

She’d never said it.

“Heimir.” Aesira tightened her grip on his hand again. “It’s complicated, but after our parents died, Heimir took on… everything. He trained and trained until he was old enough to be allowed to try out for the palace guard. He worked his way up, took on double shifts, always volunteered for the jobs no one else wanted. Anything to make ends meet. And even while he was working himself to death, he would help me train. Princess Ragna was getting older and… was getting into trouble. Nothing major, but she was getting good at sneaking out. Her current roster of guards weren’t cutting it anymore, so my brother was recommended to help fill out the ranks. He earned King Baror’s respect when he caught Ragna sneaking out his first week. He earned Ragna’s because he didn’t rat her out his first night.”

“He wasn’t part of the guard you led, was he?”

Veremund’s information hadn’t included that her brother had had any part in Ragna’s guard before.

“No, he took over as captain when the original one retired. Rather early. He was too old to have the patience for Ragna, and Ragna liked Heimir the best because he wasn’t twice her age like most of them. He let her get away with just enough so she didn’t always hate him, but not so much that she ever got hurt. He…” Aesira looked down at her hands. “By then I’d also managed to make it into the palace guard, and Ragna was always begging for more female guards, but it wouldn’t have been wise having Heimir and I in Ragna’s guard at the same time. Conflict of interest. But things were already… more complicated. Heimir trained me to replace him and when he stepped aside, joining King Baror’s guard, I was selected to be captain. I… I think it’s pretty clear now I wasn’t ready.” Aesira closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the bar. “It was a stupid idea. I didn’t earn this position. It should have been Heimir. If he’d been on this mission, there wouldn’t be six dead valkyries on his hands.”

“How could he have possibly prevented the Moon Elves from catching you? Your brother might be a good guard, but as much as neither of us like it, we have to admit, the Moon Elves are a formidable foe, even for the best.” Veremund reached through the bars. He caught her jaw and turned it slightly to face him. “And you, Aesira, are the very best.”

She rolled her eyes, and with her free hand she wiped at her eyes. “You don’t know that. You’ve never seen me fight.”

Oh, he most certainly had.

Did she think she was the only who survived by pure luck?

She’d been the most destructive force in that battle. She was everything he feared about the valkyries joining the fray.

“I’ve seen enough from our time here. The things you’ve survived?” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “How could anyone not be in awe of you?”

“You say…” She licked her lips. “You talk too much.”

“On the contrary, I think there’s far more I could say on this topic.”

Aesira pulled her jaw out of his grip. “If… If it were ever possible, I think Ragna and Heimir would like you.”

“Funny.” Veremund swallowed his bitter laugh at just how wrong she was. “I was thinking the same thing about my sisters.”

That night, Aesira slept right beside the bars, and Veremund glared at the cold metal.

They were his next obstacle.

He wasn’t going to get anywhere if he couldn’t make use of what was proving to be the most effective tactic he’d found. Valkyries were far more physical creatures than elves. The way into her heart was through his hands.

Once he had her in his arms, then she’d start telling him everything. And after?

Well, she wouldn’t be useful anymore. So…

She was a valkyie. Surely there was some other reason to keep her alive even after they got what they were looking for?

He had time to think of something. She didn’t have to die.

Veremund wouldn’t let her die.

* * *

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