Devilborn: Ashes of Valhalla (GxG)

Four

Ásgeirr continued on her way down the corridor. She was enthralled, deep in her own thoughts. She pondered many things before reaching the door of her bedchambers. She slid the door open, revealing her servant, Cadwal Acfrid.

Cadwal was a kind-hearted fellow with dark skin who had migrated all the way from Wales. He had taken the job for money. He most likely had thought the job would be full of being treated poorly by royals--but, that's not at all how it played out.

Cadwal had arrived at the castle, stating that he was here for the job. Heimir had made a rude comment or two and then tried to humiliate the Welsh man.

Cadwal had prepared himself to be met with even more mockery, but was slightly surprised by Hrafnúlfr's friendly behavior. Cadwal had been awe-struck when he had met Ásgeirr. She had treated him with more respect than he had ever received in his entire life.

Soon Ásgeirr became friends with Cadwal, often training him to swordfight and hanging out at taverns with him in secret. He was only a couple years older than Ásgeirr--three to be exact.

"Prince Ásgeirr, how was the patrol?" Cadwal asked, a gentle smile on his dark face.

Ásgeirr closed the door. "It was a waste of time. We couldn't find the people who were destroying our villages. It's essentially a lost cause, Cad..." She slumped down into a sitting position on her bed.

"May I?" Cadwal asked her.

Ásgeirr nodded, but said nothing.

Cadwal sat down beside her. "I don't believe it's a lost cause. If anyone can stop these barbarians, it's you, your highness."

"Thanks." She then sighed.

"What's wrong?" Cadwal asked, worriedly.

"Nothing. I'm fine, Cad," Ásgeirr responded, lying to the servant.

"No, you most certainly are not! I've served you for four years now. I know when you're not fine," Cadwal insisted.

Ásgeirr stayed quiet.

Cadwal persisted. "Now, what's wrong, Prince Ásgeirr?"

Ásgeirr huffed.

Cadwal pulled a face. "Wait... Is your anger toward your title? If it is, I assure you it won't be long before you're king."

Once again, a sound of frustration came from Ásgeirr.

"Do you not want to be king?" Cadwal questioned.

"It's not that, Cad. I do want to rule this land. I do want to make a difference. But..." She trailed off.

"Ásgeirr, what are you saying?" Cadwal inquired, confused.

Ásgeirr's mouth had gone dry for the second time that night. She took a deep breath. "I'm not Prince Ásgeirr." She didn't mean to say that. It was almost as if she didn't have a filter.

"Then who are you-"

Silence fell upon the room for a couple of moments before it was broken.

"P-Princess Athanasia-" She stammered. She had no idea where she had came up with the name. She held her breath as she awaited Cadwal's response.

"Okay," Cadwal said, calmly. He looked to the window and at the stars that dotted the night sky then back to the royal. "Does your father wish to send you on a patrol again tomorrow, Princess?"

Athanasia shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure. My father seemed to be very furious that the patrol wasn't successful, but I don't think he's going to send me off tomorrow."

"I thought he wouldn't send you off because of  what tomorrow is," Cadwal said, standing.

"What exactly is tomorrow supposed to be, Cadwal?" Athanasia eyed the servant.

"Did King Heimir not inform you?"

Athanasia shook her head in response.

"The Ciar family will be arriving here from Scotland tomorrow," Cadwal explained.

"And what does this have to do with me?" Athanasia inquired.

"The king wants you to become better acquainted with Princess Derbáil," Cadwal said. "He informed me of all of this this morning."

"At least he told you." Athanasia sighed. "My father is going to marry me off to her, isn't he?"

"It would appear so, my lady."

Athanasia sighed once again.

"You appear to be troubled. Why is that?" Cadwal asked.

"Derbáil... She's-" Athanasia drifted off.

"You have more of an interest in her adopted sister, Aculia, correct?" Cadwal questioned.

Athanasia nodded. "Yes. Yes I do. But, my father will never let me marry her instead."

"Well, Aculia will be here tomorrow, Princess. You have a chance--a chance to show your father and King Drest of the Scots that you're better off with Aculia than Derbáil," Cadwal responded.

"Thank you, Cadwal," Athanasia said, flopping backward to lay on the bed.

"You're welcome, my lady." Cadwal then smiled gently again. "Will that be all for you?"

Athanasia nodded. "Yes, Cadwal. That'll be all."

Cadwal headed toward the door, opening it. He blew out the flame of the candle on the wooden chest. "Good night, your highness." Then he closed the door, leaving Athanasia alone in the darkness and her own thoughts.