Page 56

Eventually, Liv had been summoned to her chambers by the Queen and the Royal Seamstress to be fitted for her Betrothal Ball uniform. The warrior had grudgingly gone with the page that had been sent to retrieve her, giving Maude a pained last look that she had found immensely funny.

Eydis quickly excused herself as well at this point, remarking that she wanted to finish working on some of her sketches in the conservatory. No one challenged her claim when she took off in the direction of Hakon’s chambers, which lay on the opposite side of the palace from the nursery.

Left alone now with the man who had been close friends with the brothers for most of his life, Maude had felt awkward until it occurred to her that Gunnar had not been surprised at her revelation when they arrived in Veter.

“Did you know my mother, Gunnar?” Maude asked as she sat next to him and retied the laces on her boots.

“You really know how to get right to the point, don't you?” Gunnar chuckled.

“One of my many talents,” Maude said, offering him a sly smile.

They stood together and made their way back to the palace. Gunnar offered greetings and made lewd comments to some of the soldiers they passed, amusing Maude to no end.

“You didn’t really seem surprised when Alva recognized me, and I just thought I would ask,” Maude shrugged.

Gunnar seemed to see right through her charade, though.

“I had a strong suspicion about who you were when I stitched you up at Thora’s pub. I saw your fatemark and knew you had to be Sylvi’s daughter,” Gunnar explained. “Though I didn’t know for sure until Alva declared it in front of everyone.”

Maude cringed, recalling the moment a few days ago when the secret shattered in front of her eyes .

“I knew Sylvi,” Gunnar told her, avoiding her eyes. “What do you want to know?”

Maude blew out a breath.

“Gods, everything . It seems I knew nothing about her.”

Gunnar was quiet for some time as he thought about what to say.

“Sylvi was vibrant. She drew everyone in,” Gunnar explained. “She was kind and funny, always joking, always laughing. People couldn’t help but be close to her.”

Maude listened to Gunnar as he got lost in the memories of her mother amongst the royalty of Veter. She glanced over to see Gunnar’s eyes glazed over slightly.

“While everyone was friends with her, only a few grew to be close friends and see a side of Sylvi that was not broadcasted. I only knew her once she had already become the Queen of Flame, having been sent to Logi a few times once I was old enough to set up a new pathway of communication to Veter for her after some of Alva’s spies were caught again,” Gunnar explained.

“How old were you when you met her?” Maude asked, curiosity winning over her reluctance to know more about her mother.

“I was barely twenty years old when I was sent to Logi,” he said, shaking his head.

“Sylvi was kind to me. We had spent a lot of time together by the time I had instilled new spies and taught them the correct codes to write in. She seemed to be lonely in her life, but she always doted on her daughters.”

Maude’s throat thickened. She swallowed the emotion down before it could overwhelm her.

“After we had become friends, I started to see the person that drew people in. She told me about you, never naming names for your protection, but she told me of your fatemark. She was worried about something the Grand Soothsayer had said to her about your fate,” Gunnar said as they made it to her floor.

They continued walking down the hall and out of earshot of anyone eavesdropping before he carried on. Maude listened closely, willing her heart rate to slow.

“She wouldn’t tell me your fate, of course, and I never asked, but she seemed determined to steer you away from something. It brought her great distress, but she would say no more about it.”

They reached her door, stopping to face each other.

“I valued Sylvi’s friendship very much. When she went silent and stopped showing up to the safe house we had set aside for her, I knew something terrible had happened.

It brings me such grief that she has left this world, but I know she is dining with the gods in Valhalla,” Gunnar said quietly, finally looking at Maude.

Shame washed through Maude at his words.

She could not bear to think of her mother anymore.

The constant reminder on her face was enough to torture her daily, but since Maude had arrived in Veter, everyone seemed to want to talk to her about how her mother was so wonderful.

And while they were all kind words, Maude struggled to match up the Veter Sylvi with the memories she had of her mother. It was unbearable.

Gunnar stopped her with one hand on her arm when she turned away from his genuine words.

“I’m glad to have your friendship now, Maude. I can tell it has been difficult for you to reconcile the mother you knew with the person she really was, but I know she loved you and your sister very much.”

Maude couldn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t let him see the truth in her face. She felt his hand leave her arm.

“Thank you for telling me about her; it helps to hear what she was like before she married my father,” Maude said, the words stiff as she tried to ignore the rising self-hatred.

“As I grew older, I feared that he had destroyed the mother from my childhood, but it’s good to know she remained who she was until—”

Maude broke off, unable to say the last words.

Maude looked at the belongings she had begun to pack for a quick escape. She had been going back and forth since she received the invite from Alva, unable to decide if the invitation was a warning or not.

“Don’t leave yet, Maude,” Gunnar said to her back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, shaking off how easily he was able to read her now.

She moved into the room and tried to close the door. A boot stopped the door from closing all the way, and she heard Gunnar’s voice again.

“We want to find the dalkr Hela just like you do. Stay until the Betrothal Ball is over. I know Alva sent you a formal invitation,” he said through the door. “We all plan to leave the morning after the ball. Just wait long enough for your friends to go with you.”

“I am not someone who has friends,” Maude bit out.

Gunnar was quiet for a moment longer before he withdrew his foot. Before Maude could close the door, she heard him say, “You can be, Maude. You just need to let us in.”

Maude shut the door on Gunnar’s words.

That night, Maude stood in front of the open windows in her room and tried to decide what to do. She had dressed in her usual attire: all black and her mother’s shawl as a hood. She turned over all her options but continued to come to the same conclusion.

She did not want to leave Veter.

So she had to leave tonight .

“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled, shouldering her pack and walking toward the window.

Maude stepped over the threshold of the window and looked down at the three stories she planned to scale down.

After a moment of hesitation, she began to descend the side of the Palace of Ocean and Clay.

She would make her way to the river and cross underneath the bridge as Liv had done.

When Maude reached the halfway point, she remembered the last time she had scaled a palace wall to escape.

She pushed the flashes of memories from her mind and tried to concentrate.

Unable to fully pull herself from her memories, the scar on her face started to throb in time to her heart beating. Before she touched down on the ground, her battle against her memory ended, and she was thrust back into the past.

Maude slammed the door to her room shut, choking back the tears that threatened to fall.

The last time her father caught her crying, she had been whipped by her uncle in the training yard.

Vowing never to shed another tear on that day, Maude willed her emotions in check.

Her evening gown trailed behind her; the amethyst-colored silk complemented her crimson hair in a way that pleased Maude earlier that evening before her father had commented on how she should have dressed for their state dinner with the other nobles in the family colors.

She had been unable to stop herself from snapping that she looked horrible in the orange and red colors of her house, and she had chosen to look like the Heir Apparent instead of his minion.

As soon as the words had left her, she knew she would pay for it.

Throughout supper, her father had shot her seething looks that promised pain. Maude had ignored her fear and held her chin high throughout the night.

Before their party had entered the retiring room after supper, her father had gripped her arm so hard she knew that it would bruise and whispered to her, “Only lowborn girls say such unladylike things about her family. Speak that way about me again, and you will regret ever making yourself sound and look so ugly.”

He left her in the dark hall and plastered on his charming smile for the guests she could not remember the names of.

She had pulled herself together and gotten through the evening, dashing away to her room before he could corner her again.

He never followed her here; that was Mama’s one rule for him, and he begrudgingly followed it.

Bryn had retired early, as she had a training session the following day.

She had begun to enjoy her training, telling Maude about it any chance she could.

All her words did was remind her how empty she felt as time went on.

She could not tell her sister that she was not excited about the future.

She could not tell their mother how she resented her silence when her father beat her for speaking out of turn.