Chains of Moonlight Chapter Nineteen

The work that had piled up in his absence was closer to killing Veremund than any of the beatings he’d endured while pretending to be Ulkos.

He’d secured his father’s agreement that they wouldn’t kill the valkyrie thanks to Veremund delivering the information that Princess Ragna was there to enter an alliance with the Sun Elves, but not fully declaring war. That was good news for them at least. It helped he’d also sold him on the idea that now that she was broken it would be easier to pry more information out of her about the valkyrie’s forces and information on the Sun Elves. He’d also hinted at their magic, but when his father demanded to know what it was, the only thing that rang in his ears were two little words.

“I promise.”

He was making too many promises. He couldn’t keep them all.

Still, all he’d told him was that he suspected they had magic and that he would need time to look into it. Having a live specimen would be beneficial.

Emmerich’s agreement had sealed the deal.

Now that Veremund had succeeded in keeping her alive, he had no idea what to do with her.

He couldn’t actually reveal the magic of the Death Knell to his father. At least, it wasn’t an option at the moment.

Veremund didn’t want to know how his father would force Aesira to use that ability. Until he could figure out if there even was a way to present that information without his father taking her from beneath Veremund’s purview, better to keep it to himself.

He could not lose her.

As long as she wasn’t too much trouble and Veremund kept on top of his responsibilities, Veremund had secured her life.

So when Emmerich came waltzing into his study after the first two nights he was out of the cell, all he had to say was that her shrieking and fighting was getting out of hand. Veremund worked faster. He stayed up during the day, pouring through reports and making snap decisions with a migraine pounding at his temples from the harsh sunlight.

How could this much work have possibly piled up?

Veremund knew why. Because Emmerich, despite his best efforts, had no idea what he was doing, and every time he encountered something he didn’t know what to do with it, he cast it aside.

Recovering from his own time in the dungeons wasn’t speeding up his work either. He couldn’t even manage to choke down a proper portion size anymore, and the usual fresh, rich food of the palace left his stomach threatening to upheave.

At least Emmerich’s cover story of him being off on a solo mission accounted for his more haggard appearance. Veremund’s clothes didn’t fit as well as they should. He needed to increase Aesira’s rations as soon as possible. How much weight and muscle had she lost in her time in the dungeons?

Rainulf had commented on the changes, and worse, even managed to get the upper hand on Veremund in a spar. Veremund didn’t know whether it was because of his physical strength being diminished or because he’d spent the whole time thinking about the work he had to do or what Aesira was doing at that moment. So Veremund called it after that and went back to work.

The sooner he was caught up, the sooner he could focus on his valkyrie.

A week after Veremund had left the dungeons, Emmerich threw open the door and slumped against the frame, he said, “I finally told her you were dead just to get her to stop.”

Veremund looked up from his maps, blinking in the early moonrise. “And?”

“Well, that’s the problem now. She’s stopped doing everything. She’s not eating, she’s dripping in sweat, and her breathing is shallow.”

Veremund pushed himself out of his seat, discarding the maps even though his general needed a reply sent by midnight if they were going to successfully move the frontlines forward with the troops being directed his way. He came careening around the desk as he snapped, “Then send for a healer immediately!”

Emmerich threw his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger! I’ll get on it, but even if she is sick, that doesn’t change the fact she’s not interested in keeping herself alive anymore. I really don’t understand why we’re bothering. Do you really think she’ll tell you anything about this secret magic now? You got everything of use out of her.”

Veremund brushed past him, knocking his shoulder into his. “Forget it. I’ll handle this myself. Just don’t get in my way.”

Veremund marched the healer down there himself, deliberately ignoring Emmerich tagging along behind them, rolling his eyes the whole time.

He had a promise to keep. A new one this time.

Of all the lies he’d told her, that hadn’t been one of them.

She would see him again.

Veremund watched from the shadows just outside the cell as the healer set to work on the infected cut. Veremund pressed his knuckles to his lips, ignoring the way Emmerich was watching every minute change in his expression. When the healer declared the valkyrie’s wound was infected, and she was too weak to fight it off without intervention, Veremund and Emmerich argued for several minutes about whether she’d be healed there in the cell or brought to the infirmary.

Veremund conceded to Emmerich’s insistence she stay in the cell because time was of the essence and Emmerich had made a good point. Veremund had their father’s approval to keep her alive, not to remove her from the dungeons.

He wanted her out of danger of experiencing her Death Knell more than he cared about optimal comfort at the moment.

And he especially didn’t want Emmerich’s attention even more closely on him and the valkyrie after the insinuations he’d made. All of which were ridiculous at best and made Veremund out to be a dishonorable cad at worst.

He couldn’t entirely answer why he was going through such efforts to keep her alive, but it certainly wasn’t for any dishonorable reason. He had no intentions of anything remotely in that area.

Everything had been an act.

None of it had been real.

Whatever… foolish thoughts he’d had before had been just that. He’d simply been mixing up his stories again. It hadn’t been real, and he would not entertain any notion of wishing it had been.

So he couldn’t explain how it was much more important to him now that she continued to live even though he had nothing left to gain from it.

The only explanation he could offer even to himself was that he’d made a promise, and he would not break it.

She let out soft, pained moans eyes darting about furiously even under her closed lids. Veremund pressed his fist in tighter to his lips. Couldn’t the healer work any faster?

Her head turned to the side and her lips parted. Sweat continued to pour down her brow. She whispered, “Ulkos…”

Emmerich leaned in and muttered, “You really did a number on her.”

Veremund’s breath caught in his throat as she opened her eyes, but they were glassy and unfocused on anything as she kept twitching and trying to move despite the healer hissing at her to be still. She kept whispering in her tongue, “He’s gone. He’s gone.”

She gasped as the healer started removing the infection. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out in agony. “I can’t—make it stop. Let me go—Let me—My heart—Please.”

Veremund lowered his fist from his mouth.

He couldn’t make the pain stop. But he could at least change the kind of agony it was.

If he didn’t want his work in keeping her alive to go to waste, there was only one option.

The next time the moon rose, Veremund was striding back into the dungeon, Emmerich on his heels, practically giggling in glee despite Veremund’s harsh glares at him. Veremund curled his fingers around the mask resting in his pocket.

He had to do this.

Aesira needed him to do this.

This was the only way he could even begin to fix what he’d done. Even if he’d had to do it, that didn’t wash away his guilt.

He came to a stop in front of her cell. She was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Her arm was bandaged, but otherwise she hadn’t moved since he’d last seen her. The bread and water were untouched beside her. She was still pale and her gaze unfocused.

“Little valkyrie.”

At the sound of his voice, she didn’t move.

“Get up.”

But instead she closed her eyes and rolled away, putting her back to him. Like she didn’t even care if he took advantage of her vulnerable position. She didn’t.

“That wasn’t a request.”

She wasn’t broken enough to be compliant. She was acting like she was already dead.

“I made you a promise. Don’t you remember?”

Finally, her shoulders tensed. Then she shifted her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him.

“I stood right here not too long ago and I told you I would have you begging for mercy.”

She rolled back over, bracing her hands on the ground and pushing herself up slightly. “I’m not begging you for a thing. You have nothing I want.”

Veremund leaned against the bars, draping his arms through them as he bent down. “But you were begging for mercy when that Sun Elf was dragged away, weren’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed, and it was like the faint suspicion was the only thing propelling her to motion. She sat up on her knees. “Keep him out of your wretched mouth.”

“So I guess I was wrong before. You didn’t have a lover back home. Or if you did, you’ve proven you’re certainly not a very faithful one.” The words were ash in his mouth, but completely necessary.

“Is that what you’re here for? To gloat about my foolishness?” She sneered. “To applaud yourself for being lucky enough that his death hurt me?”

Veremund grinned even though he was fighting the urge to retch. “There was no luck about it, little valkyrie.”

Her already pale face went ash gray. “That… No. You couldn’t have known—You put him in here to try to break me?”

He curled and uncurled his fists. “That’s one way of putting it.”

She shook her head before a delirious, vicious smile over took her. “It didn’t work. I’m still not telling you anything. You messed it up. He’s gone now and can’t be used against me.”

Poor thing.

“Oh no, dear, it worked exactly as planned.”

“N—No. No. Ulkos wouldn’t have broken. He—” Her voice cracked and then she spoke through gritted teeth as her hands dug into her legs. “He promised me.”

He’d only partially broken it, but even that was a mark against him.

“Technically, he didn’t. He didn’t have to.” Veremund tilted his head, forcing the pitying grimace onto his face. Why did this feel so much more fake than his earlier act? “You still don’t get it.”

She stared up at him. “You’re—you’re bluffing. You don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know that your princess was going to the Sun Elves to negotiate a deal for more troops, supplies, and valkyrie bodyguards for their royal family?”

Her lips parted, but nothing other than a choking, harsh breath came out.

“Little valkyrie…” He shifted back just enough to pull the mask out of his pocket, making sure she saw it as he pressed it to his skin, and the illusion took over, transforming him into Ulkos.

He leaned against the bars and grinned. “I told you I would see you again.”

She could no longer deny the truth staring her right in the face.

She was frozen on the ground, wings slumped behind her, and her eyes wide. The horror dawning on her was almost enough to break his resolve.

But not enough.

“It was pathetically easy. You didn’t suspect it for a second.” Veremund shook his head. “Every little secret, every soft touch, that tender affection blossoming into love? It was always me. All I had to do was hold you a few times and then you were desperate enough to start spilling all your secrets to me.”

Aesira’s lips moved, rasping, “You…”

“I gave you fair warning,” he whispered. “Don’t blame me. I told you I was a liar. It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me.”

Finally, her trance disappeared. She shot up, propelled forward by her wings as she got her legs under her. She slammed into the bars, reaching through them and grabbing him as she screamed, a harsh, guttural sound that nearly shattered his eardrums. His forehead slammed into the bars as she clawed at his face, trying to tear the mask off, but all she got was his skin.

“I’m going to kill you!”

He reached up, ripping the mask off his face and her fingers grabbed it, crushing it as she flung it behind her, her other hand still gripping his shirt and keeping him in place. Her wings kept beating the air, sending large gusts of wind whirling through the space. She reached for his neck, getting her hands around it as she screamed, “You sick—”

As she crushed the air out of his throat, he couldn’t make out the insults she was spitting at him in her language. He reached up and started ripping her hands away, but the cyclone her wings were creating made that difficult. His vision was going black when a hand sank into the back of his shirt and ripped him back.

He gasped as he stumbled out of her reach, air rushing back into his lungs even as he choked and winced with every painful breath. Emmerich stood beside him, one hand still on his back as Aesira kept trying to reach through the bars, screaming at him. “Get back here! What? Scared of me now? Are you so wretched and miserable that was the only way you could think to pass the time?”

Veremund rubbed his throat while Emmerich raised an eyebrow. He muttered in their language, “Is this what you wanted?”

Her wings kept beating the air, knocking into the sides of her cell as she let out another guttural shriek as she gave up trying to reach him and instead gripped the bars.

It would have to do.

He straightened up. “You made for a fun challenge, little valkyrie, but we’re done here. You weren’t strong enough to best me on the battlefield and you weren’t clever enough to outmaneuver me in a cell.”

She slammed her foot into the bars as he turned to walk away. “You like promises so much? Hear me now, Prince Veremund, I will kill you. And I will make you suffer ten times as much as you have ever made anyone suffer. I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care what I’ll have to endure to do it. It might be the last thing I ever do, but I swear to Lady Fate, I will destroy you.”

He looked over his shoulder. “I’d love to see you try.”

Her response was only another furious cry as she slammed her knuckles into the bars, tearing them open. He paused in the doorway to take one last look at her. She glared at him, ignoring her bleeding hand. The fire was back in her eyes again.

Now she had a reason to live.

Better to be the villain in her story than for it to end before it had even begun.

* * *

Thanks for reading Chapter Nineteen of Chains of Moonlight! Read the epilogue here!

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