Lunch in the great hall was always an ordeal.  Food was served to us on silver platters (literally) by servants who flitted soundlessly by, and you’re served up roast goose or stuffed lamb or something equally extravagant, sometimes without even seeing the person who just gave it to you.  You would think I’d feel like royalty, but as I sat at the long table wedged between Charlotte and Amy I felt anything but.

                Instead, I felt eyes burning into the back of my neck. The full blooded Jotun made a careful point of not looking at us half-bloods when we walked into the dining hall, but as soon as my back was turned it was apparently fair game, because I swear I could feel my skin prickle as their eyes roamed over me, judging and scornful.  I just narrowed my eyes at my plate and refuse to duck my head, even though instinct told me to do so.  I glanced across from me and receive a glare from my own table, another half-blood like me, a girl with pale blue eyes and a scar across one cheek. I shrugged at her, as if to say, “what?” and she looked away. I looked down the length of our table, at the rest of us. There were about fifty or so girls and boys, all with pale skin and fair hair, other “warriors”, each training for battle in their own groups every day. None of them would talk to me either. I had asked Amy about it the other day, and she’d whispered that they were jealous, calling me “the Queen’s favorite half-blood” as if that were some kind of grave insult. When Amy said it a little half smile had played over her lips, as if she’d enjoyed delivering the hurtful message, just a little bit. Something told me she wasn’t immune to the jealousy either.

                “Amora.”

                I turned at the cheerful deep voice. Erik was approaching the table, and Charlotte gave him a big smile and scooted over to one side. The bench creaked under his weight as Erik settled in between us.

                “How was training with the Prince?”

                I grimaced and shoved a forkful of roast into my mouth to avoid bad mouthing the prince in a room full of frost giants. It didn’t seem wise.

                “That bad, huh?” Erik made a sympathetic face at me, “sorry to hear that.”

                “Are you crazy?” Amy leaned forward over her plate, “I love training. Prince Lief is so amazingly hot! It’s the best part of my day!” She exchanged a look with Becca and they both giggled.

                “He’s horrible, “ Charlotte said sharply, “he’s nasty.”

                I noticed that our conversation was attracting some attention. The scar-faced girl and the boy beside her were looking at us curiously. I shook my head at Charlotte and she subsided, picking at her food sullenly.

                Amy said scornfully, “Oh Charlotte, you’re just jealous that you don’t get lessons with him because you’re too puny.”

                Charlotte stabbed a piece of roast violently, and I reached over Erik to put a warning hand on her arm, “Just ignore her.”

                “What’s this?” Erik suddenly seized my  wrist, rolling back the sleeve of my sweater to expose a series of dark bruises.  I gaped at them, and then tried to tug my arm back from him, but Erik held on. He stared down at me intently, “Amora, what’s this? Did Lief do this?”

                He leaned forward and examined the bruises more closely, “these are finger marks.”

                Finally he let me pull my arm free. I rolled the sleeve back down and shrugged, “It was hand to hand combat. I’m sure everyone gets…”

                Erik interrupted me, voice angry, “No, that’s not normal. Not so early in the training. He shouldn't be using this level of force with you yet. You’re not ready.”

                I gritted my teeth and stared at my plate, “Well I guess it’s more intense because I’m so friggin’ special.”

                He was silent for a second, and then he stood up abruptly, “Meet me in the library in ten minutes.”

                “Fine,” It was better that we didn’t continue this discussion here, since scar-faced girl was still staring at me. What was her problem?

                “I’m gonna go now,” I mumbled to Charlotte, who looked at me with wide blue eyes and said, “But you haven’t finished your supper. Megan, are you okay? Your arm…”

                “I’m fine,” I darted another look down the table, “I’ll see you back at the room okay?”

                “Okay,” Charlotte went back to picking at her plate, and I stood up and swung my leg off the bench.

                The scar faced girl suddenly spoke up, “Done so soon, oh favored one?”  She grinned at me over her fork, and the smug look she gave me made my stomach drop.

                I stared at her for a second, wondering if I should retaliate.  No, it’s not worth it. I turned and walked away, hearing a chorus of “ooooh” after I left, and Charlotte telling people to shut up.

                The library was mercifully empty. I swear if I’d run into anymore smug faces I’d probably take a swing at someone, and although Lief was a total ass, he was also right about one thing: I couldn’t just go around punching people who offended me.

                I found Erik sitting at one of the big oak tables, studying a book, turning pages that crackled with age. As he glanced up the light reflected off a pair of glasses, and that cleared my bad mood right up. I laughed, “No way, you wear glasses?”

                Erik smiled at my amusement, “What’s wrong with that?”

                “I just…didn’t see you as someone who’d wear glasses,” I bit my lip, not daring to say what I really thought, that Erik usually looked like some kind of hunky Viking, and glasses were throwing the look off a bit. I might be able to get used to it though, it was kind of cute. “I like them though, they look good on you.”

                “Well, thanks.” His smile slid a little, “look, Amora…” he darted a look left and right, obviously checking that we wouldn’t be overheard, “we need to talk about…that.” He pointed to my arm, and I subconsciously reached over and cradled it.

                “I’m fine, Erik.”

                “Look, I can talk to the Queen. She likes me. My father was her right hand man for a long time and she…”

                “No,” I said firmly, “I can’t just run to her every time something like this happens. Do you know what some girl called me at lunch just now? ‘Oh favored one’. They’re already giving me a hard time. I don’t need the Prince as an enemy on top of it,” I shuffled my feet and tried not to let my mind drift to the obvious. He already was an enemy, for some reason.

                Erik’s brow was creased in frustration, “I’m worried about you…”

                “I’ll be fine,” I pulled out the chair across from him and plunked myself down in it, “but I have a few questions for you now that we’re here.” The dream I had woken up to this morning was still niggling in the back of my mind. How do I ask him about all the crazy stuff my mind is coming up with?  Finally I just blurted it out, “what’s Ragnarok?”

                Erik’s brows shot up and he looked amused, “Well someone’s been studying fast. Did Lief say something about that to you?”

                “Not exactly,” I hedged around the subject, not sure I wanted to tell him I was having dreams full of blood and battle, most likely through the eyes of a dead girl. “Answer the question though, what is it?”

                For just a second a shadow crossed his face, a look I couldn’t interpret. Then his expression smoothed over and his face was carefully blank, “Ragnarok is the end times. The prophecies say that the sons of Muspell will bring it down on all of us. They will set fire to the earth.” Erik folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. His voice had taken on a lecturing tone, and it wasn’t quite convincing me.

                “And you,” I said, “do you believe in these prophecies?”

                Again his eyes darted from side to side. He shrugged, “It only matters what the Queen believes.”

                I lifted a brow at him, feeling critical. Okay, prophecies. Part of me was feeling cynical about it. Prophecies were for fantasy stories. A snarky little voice in my subconscious spoke up. Oh yeah? And what about Frost Giants? How is that less far-fetched?

                Something about the guarded look on Erik’s face made me think that he wasn’t totally convinced though. I leaned forward, “Let me get this straight. You’re all going to go charging into battle based on some crazy prophecy, that – if I guess correctly – you don’t even believe in?”

                Erik’s voice was low and harsh, “Be silent, Amora.” He leaned forward, bright eyes wide and intense, and I sat back in my chair, startled. Erik took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. You just…don’t talk like that in the palace.” He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, “any…other questions?”

                I stared down at the table, running a fingernail over the swirls and knots in the wooden surface. Part of me burned to tell him about the dreams. I needed to know why they were happening. I needed to know I wasn’t crazy, but I was afraid of the answer.

                Instead I said, “Tell me about Amora.”

                Erik stiffened, “Why?”

                Why had he reacted like that? Was he angry? I studied his face, but it was like a wall had slammed down over his emotions, guarding himself, cutting himself off from me.  Obviously he wasn’t about to talk about her. It wasn’t fair though, everyone expected me to just fill the empty space this woman had created, but no one was willing to tell me a damn thing about her.

                “I’m having dreams!” As soon as I blurted it out I wished I could take it back. Erik’s brows shot up, and he actually looked stunned. My voice wavered, “I’m having dreams where I’m her. I need to know…if…if I’m crazy.”

                Erik’s mouth was hanging open. He appeared to be trying to collect himself. Finally he breathed in a tone that was almost awe struck, “genetic memories.”

                I blinked at him, “What is that? Is it bad?” My stomach twisted in panic. Did that mean I was abnormal? Would they kick me out for having a dead girl in my head? Where would I go if they just threw me out into the snow right now?

                “No,” Erik shook his head, still looking slightly dazed. “it’s not bad. It’s not bad at all,” his voice was slowly growing more excited, “Amora, I had no idea. This is incredible!”

                “What?” I said, exasperated. “Tell me what that means!”

                Erik looked as though he was struggling for a way to explain, “Once every thousand years or so, a powerful Jotun will inherit what’s called ‘genetic memories’. It allows them to completely access the memories of an ancestor. It’s mainly used in battle. The Jotun accesses it to gain their ancestors skill and fighting techniques.” He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and finger, eyes on the ceiling, considering something. I fidgeted in my seat and finally he looked down at me, “Perhaps your genetic memories are blocked by your human DNA, and you only access them in your dreams. The Queen may be able to help you…”

                “Why can she help?” I muttered, trying to picture myself training with the Queen was nearly impossible.  She seemed too ridged and, well….cold to be teaching anyone anything.

                “Because she has it too. I thought she was the only one in this century.” Erik’s eyes were shining, “this is truly an amazing discovery!”

                “So now will you tell me about Amora?” I folded my arms over my chest and raised one brow at him, “now that you know I really am actually part of her…” I grimaced, thinking that it sounded like some sort of weird ‘Invasion of the Body Snatcher’s’ thing. “I mean, that I have her memories.” I leaned forward eagerly, “I want to know what she was like.”

                Conflicting emotions rolled across Erik’s face, it was almost painful to watch. He looked…tormented. His voice shook a little as he began, “She was amazing. So spirited. There was nobody else like her among us. Nobody was her equal.” He smiled fondly, eyes far away in distant memories, “She was the darling of the Queen's court. Everyone loved her. Well...almost everyone. Lief hated her. He could never handle the fact that she kicked his ass every time they fought in the training room. He was a sneaky little rat, even at a young age, and Amora was as honest as the day was long. She called him on everything.”

                It was like the sun had risen and shed light over the landscape. Understanding hit home, “So that’s why he hates me.” I frowned, “because of some grudge with his sister which he’s now transferred over to me. That’s it though? That’s why he hated her, because of sibling rivalry?”

                Erik shook his head, “No, Lief’s jealousy and hatred stems purely from greed. He’s always wanted the throne. He’s after money and power. The main reason he hated Amora so much was because she was the only full-blooded child of the Queen and King. She would have inherited the throne over him. He was furious about it.” Darkness passed over Erik’s face, and he gripped the table with both hands so hard I would swear I could almost hear the wood creak. He said, “the day Amora was killed I could see he was celebrating internally. He would never dare voice it out loud, but he was overjoyed.”

                There was so much open grief on Erik’s face. He was looking down at the table, and I could see unshed tears glistening in his eyes. A thought occurred to me that made my stomach twist uncomfortably, “Erik,” I whispered, “did you…love her?”

                He looked up, blinking rapidly, looking sheepish through his tears, “Is it that obvious?”

                I shrugged, a little embarrassed, “I’m so sorry. The Queen said…she said I look like her, and I have her name,” I swallowed hard, “I’m sorry…”

                Erik laughed a little, though his expression was still sad, “it’s not your fault. I admit, it’s hard. Each time I look at you I feel like my heart is broken again and then rebuilt all in one moment. It’s confusing. You’re so much like her in some ways, and completely different in others.”

                He reached out and took my hand, his fingers were warm over mine. “We were going to build a life together, her and I. We had it all planned out....you look so much like her...” He was leaning forward over the table, brilliant blue eyes pinning me to the spot.  I felt frozen, a confused torrent of emotions washing over me. Was he seeing Amora or Megan right now? Was he just transferring his affection and love from a dead girl onto me? Would he try to make me into her?

                It felt like hyperactive butterflies were in my stomach, and I felt my face flush as he leaned forward. His fingers were hot on the back of my neck as he pulled me closer. His mouth pressed against mine, fever hot and desperate, and I could taste the salt from his tears. Just as abruptly he drew back, eyes wide.

                “I’m so sorry.” I took his glasses off and set them down on the table, running his hands through his short blond hair so that it stuck up every which way. Erik was breathing heavily, and there were two bright spots of color on each cheek, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

                I pressed my lips together, feeling them tingle where his mouth had met mine, “that’s okay.” My voice came out slightly shaky, and I pressed my palms into the table top to make sure he couldn’t see my hands tremble, “it’s okay, really.”

                We sat in silence for a minute, and I tried to think of something to say. “She sounds…amazing. She sounds like…like I would have liked her a lot.”

                Erik smiled, “I think so. Everyone did, I mean, aside from Prince asshole.”

                I laughed relieved that his voice sounded almost normal again, and then a thought struck me, one I’d been wondering about since my lesson with said asshole, “I was going to ask you a while ago.  In training I picked a…” I wracked my brain for the word. What had he said it was called? Something the Samurai had used… “a Katana.” I fished the word out from some dark corner of my brain, “Lief said it was an interesting choice.”

                A wide smile lit up Erik’s face, “Perhaps the genetic memories are more prevalent then I thought. That was Amora's sword. I mean, not the same one, but the same style of sword.”

                My mouth dropped open, and I quickly snapped it shut again. It made sense. I had been drawn to that particular sword by something. Some subconscious force that had made me reach out for it before I could question why. “Wow…” It was all I could manage to get out at that moment.

                “She was like lightening with it in battle,” Erik’s eyes were far away again, “it was like an organic extension of her. I remember it so well. All you saw as she passed through was the flash of the sun off the blade and the bloody trail in the snow. There was no one who could stand in her way.”

                My throat felt tight, “how did it happen?”

                Erik’s face grew hard, “how did what happen?”

                “I…how…how did she…die?” I stammered.

                “In battle.” His tone was short and clipped. Dismissive. But there was something in his face, hidden emotion, grief mixed with anger. I didn’t buy it. That wasn’t the whole story.

                “How exactly,” I pressed on, ignoring the unease that was pressing down on my chest.

                “Battle,” Erik said sharply, “is all anyone need say. Other than that, I am forbidden to speak of it.” He stood up and gave me a crooked smile, “I’m sorry, I really am. Maybe someday I’ll say more,” again his gaze flitted around the library. It was still quiet around us, still empty. “But not right now. You tell me if Lief pulls anymore stunts like the one with your arm. Come see me after lunch tomorrow. Meet me here. Lief may be teaching you the basics of fighting, but there are other things, our history for instance, that I need to teach you about.”

                I couldn’t help feeling angry. He’s just kissed me, and now he was being abrupt and holding back information, “What, did the Queen order you to give me history lessons?”

                “She did actually,” Erik said mildly, “but that’s not why I’m doing it. There are things you’ll need to know.”

                I watched him turn and walk out of the library, eyes fixed on his broad back as he went. I traced my lips with one finger subconsciously. I hadn’t had many kisses, but his was…odd. Full of passion and grief and…I didn’t know if I liked it or not. I might look like Amora and share her name, I might even share her memories….but I wasn’t the same person. And if things went further with Erik, would every kiss taste like his tears? Would he just love me because I was ‘so much like her’ or would he see me as me? I sighed and rested my forehead on the table. I couldn’t be someone I wasn’t, and I wasn’t her.