Freyja’s best friend stepped forward, an apprehensive expression on her beautiful face as she twisted her long blond braid between her hands. “I am so sorry, Freyja, but Émilien insisted I show him here. He said it was of vital importance.”
Freyja waved away her friend’ apology. “Don’t fret, Idunn. I should have asked you to join us as well. You always bring a bit of levelheadedness to any situation. Please, come and sit next to me.” Snapping her fingers, the table widened, spreading out from its center. Two more chairs appeared to her left, one built with thicker, carved pieces for Émilien.
Idunn sat next to Freyja. “Would anyone like something to drink—hot tea, maybe? I made tartlets and brownies this morning—”
“Yes, please!” the four Night Witches said in unison, then burst into laughter.
“Idunn, no one would dare turn down anything you offer. Your food is absolutely decadent,” Natalya said with a wide smile.
Idunn’s fair skin turned a pretty shade of pink. “Thank you, Natalya, and for that, I will give you first dibs at tasting my next creation.”
Lilyann frowned at her sister. “That’s not fair. I want to be your taste tester too.”
Natalya’s eyebrow rose, and she gave her sister a droll stare. “How old are you—five?” Lilyann stuck out her tongue, and everyone chuckled.
“Fine,” Idunn said, shaking her head. “I will create something new for all four of you to try. How does that sound?”
“Like you left out four other very important and usually hungry men,” Charles said, his lips twitching as he tried not to smile.
Idunn’s eyes rolled and she snapped her fingers. Golden goblets appeared in front of everyone, filled to the rim with a dark-red liquid. Next to each goblet sat a delicate white porcelain plate. In the center of the table, two massive platters appeared—one containing dozens of sandwiches, and the other piled with enough tartlets and brownies to feed an army.
After the plates were filled, Alva studied each person around the table while they consumed on the delicious treats. She could almost hear their thoughts as they went over and over the previous events in their minds. Her own thoughts were just as chaotic, but she still couldn’t help thinking this had something to do with her mother. She stuck the last bite of a brownie in her mouth, savoring the decadent taste of chocolate as she chewed, the creamy center coating her tongue.
The more she thought, though, the more she knew it wasn’t about her mother, but about Anders. Somehow, he was a part of this. She was sure of it, but beyond that, she didn’t know how or why.
“Alva, tell us more about Anders,” Mikhail said. He popped a tartlet into his mouth and drained the last of his goblet that was filled with Idunn’s special berry tea.
Alva shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell you very much. None of us knew him. He and my mother pretty much stayed in her quarters...” Her mother’s voice filled her head, replaying every single word she had said regarding Alva’s father. “I loved him, too, but I had just become queen.”
Alva’s eyes widened, and her gaze flew to Freyja’s. “You said my mother was dying because of love, correct?”
Freyja nodded. “I did. Why?”
“Hear me out, but what if, what if everything we thought we knew about Huldras is false? I mean, I know I’m coming into the Huldra culture late, but Gytha, our only remaining elder, even admits she only knows what her parents told her. What if something happened or memories were distorted, and everything, or even only a few things, are wrong?”
Freyja shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “I know you’re worried about your mother and want things to be different—”
“No, Freyja,” Alva interrupted, then waved one hand in front of her, sending crumbs from the brownie she had picked up flying across the table. “It’s not that. Yes, I want my mother to live and remain queen, but this is about Anders and my father.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Collecting her disorderly thoughts, she inhaled, then exhaled, forcing out the mounting anxiety.
Raising her head, she met the goddess’s worry-filled gaze. “Something my mother said just before we left bothered me, but it wasn’t until now that I believe I have an idea why. My father loved her more than anything, but he left. They were too young and their relationship too new to deal with the pressures of her becoming queen. Gytha used to tell me stories when I first arrived in Aasveigheimr. My mother doesn’t have either bark on her back or a tail, which means she truly loved my father, and he returned that love until the day he died.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “If the legends are true, then when he took me to Alfheimr, she should have died then. Not when Anders left. Everyone I’ve talked to said my mother’s personality changed. Her love for her people was just gone. Does that sound normal to you?”
The surging emotion in her body made her tremble as she glanced around the table. “Does that sound normal to any of you?”
Freyja stared at her brother for a few minutes before meeting Alva’s gaze once more. “I’ve never really thought about it, but my memories of your mother before your birth, and when she and Taeral were married, are very different from how she was when she was with Anders.”
“That’s true,” Idunn added with a quick nod. “Isabel became distracted, even argumentative, with all of us and refused to leave the mountain in case Anders might need her. I never thought it was normal, but every time I tried to talk to her, she shut me out.”
Alva leaned against the table, feeling lightheaded as the room seemed to swirl around her. A warm hand touched her back, and she couldn’t stop the hard shiver that coursed through her. The rioting emotions inside her calmed. She knew it was Bernard’s touch soothing her. Turning to him, she pressed her lips together and blinked several times, trying to clear her blurred vision. “Thank you,” she mouthed, needing his strength more than she wanted to admit.
Holding his rich-brown gaze, she forced the air from her lungs. “Freyja, I believe my mother has been under some sort of spell to keep her attention solely on Anders.”
“I agree with Alva,” Freyr said to his sister. Alva pulled her gaze from Bernard’s to the god’s anger-filled face. “We need to figure out just who this Anders is.” His blue gaze snapped back to Alva. “What do you know about him? Not that it matters, but can you describe him? He’s probably magically disguised himself, but anything is worth a try at this point.”
“He’s slender, maybe six feet or six two. To me, he was sort of regular. Not good-looking but not ugly either. I only saw him two or three times, but each time, I remember thinking how odd it was that he wore his hair so short when all the other men wore theirs long.” She grinned at Ailuin and Lamruil. “I was a bit biased, though, because I was only around elves when I was a child. Very few could equal them.”
“While I hope this Anders gets his just punishment, I don’t understand what he has to do with Bernard’s problem or the draugar,” Natalya said. “That’s what we should be focusing on right now, don’t you think?”