He grinned at my glare and asked in a teasing tone, “Did you enjoy shopping with your maid?”
My glare intensified.
My brother took it in and did not cower.
He started chuckling and returned to his consommé.
With no other choice open to me, I also turned to my place setting, thinking I was not losing my touch.
It was gone.
And I had no choice as to what to think of that.
Except, so be it.
Chapter Eight
My Valiant
Valentine
Valentine stood at the window of her lovely little house in the countryside outside of Fyngaard and looked to the shadowed frosty wonderland of snow and ice sparkling in the moonlight.
Frey Drakkar stood in the middle of the room behind her and he did this speaking.
As he spoke, Valentine fought the urge to smile.
“We’re willing to make it worth your time¸” Drakkar declared as he concluded stating what he wished to request from Valentine.
She’d do what he requested for free.
However, he didn’t need to know that.
“I’m sure your wife has shared much, though you cannot understand the extent of it, Drakkar,” she said to the window. “But suffice it to say that it’s an understatement when I note that my world is much different than this one.”
“I do get this impression, Valentine, and thus that world holds no interest to me outside those things I pay you to bring for my wee one that she misses,” Frey replied. “It sounds busy and crowded, overcomplicated, and from what I’ve heard from Finnie, the majority of those who inhabit it live lives mistaken as to what’s important.”
Valentine turned toward the man. “And yet you wish to send Franka there?”
“She needs to be rid of bad memories. She also needs a challenge,” he responded. “But I sense she’ll be seeking ones much different than what she’s sought in the past. And with you and Noc and perhaps Circe to guide her way, she’ll not get lost again, even in that world.”
“I see your point,” Valentine murmured.
Frey gave her a short nod. “And her riches, you’ve mentioned they’d be considerable there as well, but they’d also be suspect if discovered by those in positions of authority. Franka is accustomed to a certain standard of living and will expect that in any land she inhabits. She also has lived a life of independence, outside the threat of her parents’ actions. I can’t imagine that’d change, and with that threat eradicated, I can only imagine her desire for autonomy will increase. She’ll not like her standard of living lowered or her new liberty threatened with, for example, the need to seek employment or the like. Both would most assuredly sway her decision in the wrong direction about whether or not to go.”
Valentine’s lips curled. “I’ve ways to assist her in converting her parallel universe resources to my-world currency, not to mention other issues she may have, such as finding and paying for appropriately appointed accommodation. She’ll live very well, Drakkar, and do it not having to ask if someone wishes ‘fries with that.’”
“Good,” he murmured then asked, “Fries with that?”
Valentine lifted a hand and flipped it languidly, “The explanation to that is truly beneath your notice, Frey.”
The Drakkar didn’t reply.
Valentine tilted her head, querying, “And this was Noc’s idea?”
Frey gave another short nod. “Yes, and I believe a good one.” At that point his lips twitched. “We discovered at dinner tonight that she intends to cross the Green Sea. The queen forbade it, of course, but it indicates Franka is up for an adventure, the bolder the better.”
“And would it be me or Noc that will suggest this to her?” Valentine went on.
“It’s my understanding that Noc’s speaking to her this evening.”
Valentine’s smiled a small smile. “Excellent. Well, do keep me informed, Frey. When she’s agreed to leave this world for mine, I’ll be certain to put all the pieces in place for her to do so and enjoy her position when she arrives.”
His brows rose. “There’s the matter of payment, Valentine.”
“Of course,” she said quietly. “And you’ll be seeing to this? Or will Franka be expected to compensate me for my services? Perhaps Noc?”
“This is a gift from Finnie and I,” Frey answered.
That was what Valentine hoped he’d say.
“If that’s the case, I request an audience with the elves in their realm under the ice,” she shared and watched his mouth grow tight.
“This is a grand request,” he stated shortly.
“Even I don’t have the power to visit the elves and I’ve a feeling it would be most interesting.”
“You would be right, Valentine, but they hold their realm dear and may not grant this request.”
“You rule them, Frey,” Valentine reminded him.
“I do, but I do not do it through tyranny as one of my predecessors did, resulting in losing them for centuries,” he returned. “I take their desires and concerns into account, and if something is important to them, I consider it gravely.”
He lowered his voice and his gaze never left hers as he continued.
“You know I appreciate all you’ve done for my Finnie, myself and my country, even if, for most of it, you were paid handsomely. Your life as well was often in danger and you showed courage and loyalty, which I admire. You also know because of this I hold a fondness for you as does my wife. But even so, the elves have free will and can retreat to their underground dominion, not to return until there’s a new Frey who does not rule them with an oppressive hand. If they refuse your visit, Valentine, I can offer you time speaking with Nillen and his council by calling them up to the ice. This would cause no umbrage and it, too, I would hope would be interesting.”
“I would prefer my own adventure in the elfin realm, Drakkar, but if I must accept the alternative, I would do that as well,” she granted.
“My thanks.”
Valentine looked to the door then back to Frey. “I don’t wish to be rude, and you know I always enjoy your company, but even if the hour grows late, I have things to see to.”
“Of course,” he murmured, moving her way.
Valentine stayed where she was.
When he arrived at her, he bent to brush his lips against her cheek and pulled back, again catching her gaze. “I’ll deliver a message when I know of Franka’s decision.”
“In the meantime, I’ll hope she makes the right one.”
This time, Frey’s lips curled. “With what I see growing between her and Noc, I’ve no doubt she will.”
Valentine hoped that was true as well.
“Our gratitude, Valentine,” Drakkar said as he began to move away from her.
Valentine watched him go, relished doing so for he was quite the specimen, and she did it replying, “I enjoy being at your service.”
He stopped at the door to the room and looked back at her, now fully smiling.
“You enjoy being paid,” he retorted, a teasing note to his voice.
“That too,” she agreed.
He shook his head, lifted a hand and bid, “Farewell.”
Valentine said nothing. She simply stood where Frey left her and watched the door, pleased that things were progressing so well and so swiftly with Franka and Noc, even without her meddling.
But now she had an actual invitation to meddle, and Valentine looked forward to doing just that.
Thinking of meddling, she turned her attention from the door to her crystal that lay on its bed of emerald velvet.
She moved to it, drifting her fingertips across the orb, watching the smoke swirl inside, her mind taken not only from Franka and Noc but also what was in that very house upstairs waiting for her attention, and Valentine directed her thoughts to what was in the sphere.
She again wafted the tips of her fingers across the crystal and watched the smoke change direction and a new vision form
ed.
She should not dally. If left to their own devices, it would never happen simply due to location and circumstances. She further couldn’t court either of them finding another.
She’d done her research. She’d been thorough. She knew she’d made the right decision. There was nothing further to do.
Except find the perfect time.
And then intervene.
In fact, with the plans she had for Franka, it might be agreeable that they work together to see Valentine’s other scheme to fruition.
An excellent idea.
She snapped her fingers and the wisps in the crystal disappeared.
She then looked at the clock on the mantel.
Frey had arrived a quarter of an hour after she’d given her instructions. He had not stayed long. If she wished to make her test a more onerous one, she’d wait another half hour, or longer.
But thinking what awaited her, Valentine found uncharacteristically that she didn’t wish to wait even a minute longer.
No.
She was quite keen to see the results of how her instructions had been carried out.
Thus, it was time to see to things.
And this Valentine walked leisurely to the door to make her way to what awaited her in her bedchamber in order to do.
* * * * *
Franka
“There you are.”
I turned at my brother’s voice and saw him sauntering into the room.
I turned back to the window where I was staring out at the snow-covered back garden of the palace, concocting elaborate schemes of packing up Josette and myself, finding Irene and making a clandestine escape.
Alas, I feared if I attempted any of the many maneuvers I’d dreamed up in the hours that had elapsed after dinner, the queen herself would order me found. She’d likely send her son-in-law after me and we’d be on the run for, my guess, a day and a half before we were dragged back.
I sighed at the window.
“It’s very late, Franka, and I wish to join my wife in bed,” my brother said, and I could hear now he was close. “But I didn’t want to do so without making certain you were over your pique from earlier.”
That made me cut my gaze to him and arch a brow. “My pique?”
He grinned. “Surely even you,” his eyes slid to the window and back to me, “after hours of brooding can’t still think a voyage across the emerald waters is a good idea.”
I looked back to the window, suggesting, “Perhaps we can cease discussing this topic.”
“Perhaps that’s wise,” he murmured.
He said nothing more.
I continued giving him the cold shoulder, doing so getting colder and colder myself, standing at the window.
“Franka.” I heard from closer. “It was only worry that made me react that way at dinner.”
This was true.
It was also irritating in the extreme mostly because it was true.
“It’s been my whole life you looked after me,” he went on, his voice quieting. “Now, it’s my turn.”
Even more irritating because he was so bloody endearing.
And he always had been.
“I’ve left it too late, but at least now I have the chance,” he finished, and I finally turned back his way.
“I don’t need looking after, Kristian.”
“I know, Franka. But I still desire that privilege.”
I shifted so I was fully facing him. “Brother, the beauty of what’s happened is that now we can both live our lives without bothering with such nonsense.”
His face grew hard in a way that most assuredly did not suit him.
And yet it very much did.
At least it suited the new Kristian.
“As your brother, it’s always been my job to look after you, it’ll always be my job and it’s not nonsense. Until now, I’ve failed. From now I will not. It’s my time and I’m taking it.”
I studied him but was careful not to show how intently I was doing so in order not to make him uncomfortable.
I did this for some time before I noted gently, “You’re much changed.”
“As are you,” he replied.
I nodded my acceptance of that.
“Do you…” I subtly cleared my throat and started again, “I went to see them in jail.”
His head moved in an abrupt and uncomfortable manner. “Cousin Frey informed me of this.”
I lifted my chin and carried on, “I found before doing that I was not quite at peace with how things had changed.”
Kristian’s expression turned baffled at the same time concerned. “I cannot imagine how that could be, sister,” he whispered.
I shook my head and readjusted my position, turning my gaze back to the window.
In other words, hiding in the only way I could from my brother even as I gave him everything.
“I did not know who I was without my existence being the way it was.”
“Franka,” he said quietly in a way I knew he was no longer baffled.
“I still am uncertain,” I admitted. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do you…or perhaps did you feel the same?”
“No, love,” he stated quietly. “When that witch stripped Mother of her magic and shared with me Father had been detained by Frey, I felt like great stones had been weighing me down for centuries and they’d suddenly been lifted so not only could I take my feet, I could lift my arms and fly.”
This made me feel something I’d never felt.
My heart taking flight for my brother.
Without thought, my hand darted out to find his.
Our fingers curled around each other’s.
“I’m happy for that, brother,” I told him.
“You’ll find your way, sister,” he told me.
I hoped so.
Though I’d thought my way was an adventure across the sea, but Kristian had done something about that.
Now I needed to find another way.
Oh well, I would. Eventually my back would be fully healed and the shocking knowledge of what had been before for Kristian and I would mean all the attention I was receiving would fade. People (I assumed) would feel less protective (or, by my way of thinking, overprotective). And then I (and Josette, not to mention Irene), would be at liberty to go about our business again.
I just needed patience and I’d had that once. I’d find it again. Utilize it.
And onward we’d go.
“Shit, sorry to interrupt.”
This came from the door, and Kristian let me go to step aside as we both looked to see Noc backing out of the space.
“No, Sir Noc, or…um, Master Noc,” Kristian called clumsily but quickly rallied. “If you seek Franka, you’ve found her and I’m off to join my wife.” My brother looked to me. “We’ll breakfast together?”
I nodded. “That would be lovely.”
He smiled and moved toward me leaning in.
He touched his cheek to mine and whispered, “Goodnight, my valiant.”
I felt my mouth tighten because his words vexed me. And they vexed me because they meant the world to me and I found this constant overflowing of feeling decidedly annoying.
This meant when he pulled away and looked at my face, his head jerked before his mouth broke into a wide smile.
“And with gratitude, some things never change,” he murmured, still smiling as he moved away.
I watched him leave, hearing him bid goodnight to Noc as he did so, Noc returning that gesture.
My attention moved to Noc only when my brother disappeared from view.
Noc was now in the middle of the room, looking at me, and he didn’t appear to be in a good mood.
“Is aught amiss?” I queried, hoping to sound innocent of the wrongdoing I knew I’d done, which he knew as well for it was written all over his face.
“Aught’s definitely amiss,” he stated shortly. “Babe, we had a date and I’ve been sittin’ in our room for the last two hours waitin’ on your ass.”<
br />
Drat it all, his using the words our room made warmth flood my belly.
“Our room?” I asked even though I knew precisely what he was referring to.
“Babe,” he growled low, knowing I knew.
All right, onward from that.
“Why didn’t you ask a servant where I was?” I inquired.
“Why didn’t you come to our room like we agreed?” he fired back.
“We agreed on an assignation, Noc, we didn’t agree on a location.”
This, at least, was true.
He tossed an arm out wide. “Have you been waitin’ in here for me?”
No, guiltily I had not. I had been in that room somewhat avoiding him but doing it in order to brood and lick my wounds from dinner, which turned into me madly planning a variety of elaborate escapes I wouldn’t be able to execute and losing track of time.
But mostly I was avoiding him, and I was doing this because he did simple things, like say two innocuous words, and doing such made warmth flood my belly.
“Well…” I said that word slowly and trailed off, attempting to find an inoffensive, slightly factual answer.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, prowling to the cord in the room and tugging on it. He then turned again to me and crossed his arms on his chest. “You gonna get your ass over here and sit with me by the fire or are you gonna stand in front of that window until the cold coming through freezes you to death?”
“There’s no need to be surly,” I noted (although there was), shifting from the window (which was indeed cold) and moving his way where there were two chairs with a table between them angled toward a hearty fire.
“Frannie, I waited two hours for you.”
Gods, the guilt assailing me was going to make me bite my lip!
I managed not to do something so ridiculous and simply stopped in front of a chair, keeping my gaze on him.
I opened my mouth to say something flippant.
But, “I’m sorry, Noc, I’ve got much on my mind,” came out instead.
Some of the ire in his face faded as me moved toward me.
I expected him to stop in front of his own chair but he was Noc. He didn’t do the expected.
He did the affectionate.
This meant he stopped half a foot from me so I could smell his cologne, a fresh, spicy scent I quite liked, his head tilted down so his eyes could hold mine.