I see you || Loki

21. Constrained Confession

A week. That was how long you had remained in Loki's rooms. Between one distraction and another, you had lost all concept of time and given your undivided attention to Loki for a full week.

And yet, you needn't have worried that others in Asgard had missed your presence.

That became utterly clear when you arrived in your mother's room in the morning, mind still swirling through possible excuses. So far, you hadn't settled on an acceptable explanation (A whole week! Stars.)

"You look much recovered," your mother said, sparing you a glance from the needlework she held in her lap.

Your mind stuttered to a stop. "Pardon?"

"From your illness." A longer look this time. "I hadn't expected to see you wander so far so soon when you've been bedridden for days. But you look much better than when I visited yesterday."

"Ah." You certainly weren't in your room the day before and you hadn't seen your mother in a week. Which meant... Loki.

Of course.

So that was why he had never seemed concerned that your absence would alarm others; he had ensured that others thought and saw what he wanted. When would the extent of his powers stop surprising you?

Still, he could have at least warned you of what he had done.

You sat in the chair opposite your mother. "How are you today?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward events that you had not missed in their entirety.

Your mother waved away your worry. "Busy," she answered, not bothering to look up at you this time, "and you should be too."

"What for?"

"Did you listen to me at all this week or did your memory leave along with the fever?"

"Momma..."

"The coronation, child. Now that the date is announced, you've got more work than I have time for."

Your heart stopped. The coronation—Thor's coronation. If it had been announced, then... your wedding would have been set along with it. Stars... that was it then. If Thor was going to be crowned, then... you would be married not long after, if not before.

Meanwhile, your mother had continued talking. "—may feel like a long time to wait, but there are feasts before then. Not to mention any number of projects to organize. You'll need to meet with the Queen and with—I swear, are you listening at all?"

Not in the least. You suddenly felt as faint as if you had been ill for the past week. "Actually," you said, "I think I'll go lie down for a bit."

"I knew it was too soon for you to be up and around again. You should have rested a little while longer."

You stood, leaning one hand against the table as if it could steady your mind.

Just as you reached the door, your mother spoke again. "It is nice to see you dressed appropriately. Finally."

"Momma?"

"The dress"—she waved her embroidery hoop toward you by way of indication—"it's new. Very regal. It suits you."

You nodded and left so she couldn't see the way you paled at her remarks. Of course, it was the dress that Loki had picked for you—made of fabric the shade of new leaves, which seemed lighter than air. It was less a garment and more of a concept, the illusion of clothing that fluttered around you as you walked. It drew attention, glances and whispers that you didn't want at the moment. And you should hardly be wearing a gift from Loki when the palace was suddenly abuzz with renewed interest in you.