22. Maddy

Chapter 22

Maddy

I shout my sister's name, and I'm halfway across the hall before I realize that she isn't running toward me. In fact, she barely even glances at me.

She's standing straight, her hands clasped at her front, and she's looking straight over my head at Odin's throne.

My run turns into a faltering lope, then stalls.

"Freydis?"

Slowly her eyes find mine. "Hello, sister," she says.

I feel sick. I barely recognize the cold tone of her voice, although she looks exactly as she's always looked.

"How are you, daughter?" My mother's voice makes my eyes move to hers. I've never heard her call me daughter before, certainly not in public, and the question throws me completely off balance.

"I… I…" I stammer.

"Eloquent as always," my father says. I glare at him.

"I am doing well, thank you," I answer, copying Freydis' cold stance and clasping my hands in front of me. "I've survived so far."

"We hear that some fae have not," my mother says. There's something in her eyes that could be concern or care, but I can't tell. I look back at Freydis.

Surely she's relieved I'm alive and doing well? Surely I can find something in her face that shows she loves me?

She's not looking at me.

Her words in our shared bedroom that fateful night the Valkyrie came ring in my head.

"We're connected, Maddy. That won't change when I leave."

I step toward her, reaching for her hands. "Freydis, I have so much to tell you about this place. So many things have happened."

She steps back, and her face is expressionless as she shakes her head. "We are here at the invitation of the Valkyrie, to watch the strength display. You need not tell me what I am about to see for myself," she says, and her reprimanding tone makes my heart ache, because it is the one she has always used with me. Except the words are hollow, her demeanor hard as ice.

"Freydis," I whisper. My eyes are burning. "Freydis, I've been trying to use the?—"

"Your Majesties, welcome to Featherblade." Brynhild's voice rings out, and we all turn. She is standing at the top of the steps and begins to sweep down them. My family all bow in unison.

I turn back to Freydis and speak quickly and quietly, not caring if my parents hear, but not wanting the ice-fae Valkyrie to. "The mirror. Please, Freydis, let me explain, let me?—"

"Madivia?" Brynhild's sharp tone is right behind me, and I turn to her with my teeth clenched. "Why are you still here?"

"I haven't seen my sister in weeks." And before that, we spent every single day together. I'm struggling to keep my emotion in check. All I want, more than anything in the world, is to hug Freydis. To feel her embrace, to hear her say she loves me.

"Nobody here has seen their families. That is part of your training. You think because you are a royal, you are exempt from this rule?"

"No, hersir ," I grind out.

"Then why are you still here?"

This might be my only chance to see Freydis, and I have to do whatever I can to make her realize that I'm sorry—that I didn't mean to be here instead of her.

If I can't tell her about my magic, or the bear, or Kain, or any of the other things that have happened here, and I can't find out how she is, and whether she is still getting the headaches, or making any progress with the tiara, then at least I can try to prove to her that I still care.

"I believe my sister would make a magnificent Valkyrie," I say, turning from Brynhild to Freydis. "I think you should reconsider her for training here."

I swear for a second something flickers in my sister's eyes. But then she fixes her gaze on Brynhild. "We are grateful for this invitation," she says, and bows her head.

"Sigrun is keen that you see how well the training is going," Brynhild answers, moving toward them, past me. "Madivia, we will see you in the Battleyard."

"I hope you do us proud," my father adds, but I can't hear much hope in his voice.

"Stay safe, daughter," my mother says, and they turn and follow Brynhild from the hall.

My intense gaze is still fixed on Freydis, and I will her to say something to me, to step forward and hug me, to wish me luck. Anything .

She blinks at me, then turns and walks after the others.

"Freydis, I'm sorry," I whisper as I watch her walking away. But the door closes behind her and I know she never heard me.

I'm able to hold back the tears until I get to Sarra's workshop, but as soon as I see my friend, my control crumbles.

"What's wrong?" she asks, setting down a huge sack that she scooped up when I came in.

"My family are here," I croak.

"Your sister?" Sarra says apprehensively, although I assume she already knows what I'm going to say from the fact that I'm crying.

"She hates me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Maddy." Sarra folds her arms around me. "She'll come around. You've got your whole life to work it out. She just needs more time. "

My whole life. There's a concept that's never really meant anything to me.

"I have as long as the blackouts give me, and right now she won't even speak to me."

"It's not your fault, Maddy. She knows that; she's just disappointed. It must have been such a shock for her, and I'm sure she will forgive you. It's only been a few weeks, and if she wanted this as much as you think she did, then it's going to take her a while to let go of it."

I nod, Sarra's words a balm on my devastation.

She's right. It's not been that long, really. I just so hoped that the lack of contact with the mirror was a mistake.

I knew, though, deep in my gut, that it wasn't. I knew Freydis was choosing not to speak to me.

The cold look in her eyes, her frosty tone—it couldn't be further from the motherly warmth she's shown me my entire life.

The tears burn again, and Sarra moves back, gripping my arms.

"Maddy, you have less than an hour before you have to be in the Battleyard. I'm sorry, but you have to dig deep and channel some of that Valkyrie determination."

I blink at her.

"I know it hurts, and I'm sorry, but you don't have time for this right now."

She's right. I have to pull myself together, at least for the rest of the day. Later, I can cry all I want. And I probably will.

"Look, I have something for you. Margaery stopped by." Sarra lets go of me and moves to the bag. "Get dressed. We'll sort your hair out, and then you're going out there and you're going show your family, and Sigrun, that you can become a fierce-as-fuck Valkyrie."

Her words make my shoulders square, and I swipe the moisture from my eyes.

My family have no idea that I'm able to use my ice magic now. After two decades of being shut away in a tower, I finally have a chance to show them what I'm capable of. It might not help my sister forgive me, but it might at least prove that the gods were right to choose me.

When I'm dressed and standing in front of Sarra, I can see that she's impressed before she speaks.

"Maddy, you look fantastic," she says. I beam at her. If it weren't for what had just happened with Freydis, I would feel fantastic.

I'm wearing trousers that actually fit me for the first time since I got here, both around my backside and my thighs, before they taper neatly into Sarra's boots. The shirt I'm wearing has sleeves that come all the way down to my wrists and then tie with short leather cuffs which lace up the side, and they protect the most vulnerable part of my forearms. A wide collar tucks low into a new leather wrap, and this one is so much stiffer and thicker than my other one. It takes a few minutes for me to get used to bending in it, but it's going to stop all but the sharpest blade, the leather is so thick. There's a faint design carved onto it, and as I squint at the mirror, I realize that it's of snowflakes.

Am I wearing a hand-me-down from Brynhild's wardrobe? The twinge of unease that comes with that melts away, though, as I turn and bend in front of the mirror. She is one of the most magnificent ice-fae to have ever lived, and wearing her old armor is practical and probably effective. I didn't need to like her to do myself a favor and dress for the oncoming fight.

There are leather shin wraps that match the wrist cuffs, and Sarra helps me lace up before tying my hair back in a sturdy knot at the nape of my neck, tucking all the loose strands in and then pinning them so that they won't get in my way.

I pick up my shield. It's not quite as light or complete as I hoped it would be, and it's certainly not as beautiful as it was, but it does display the image of my bear in the center of the plate of metal, and the wood around it will protect me to some extent. I check my belt pouch for my tinctures and potions that we've learned to make in healing, along with the dagger I always keep in there.

"I think I'm ready," I tell Sarra.

"Yes, I think you are," she says. "I'll see you up there. Good luck."

"Thank you for everything, Sarra. Thank you."