A dual pov narrative from both main characters-Loki and Annalise. If you enjoy slow burn, immersive stories, with a good plot and the long awaited spice, then stop your search. Here is the story for you!
As the newly crowned king of Jotunheim, Loki...
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With each step sinking into the thick, fluffy snow, the towering palace with its high pointed towers looms over me in a transcendent manner.
I am filled with awe and shock as I raise my gaze to the magnificence of its structure. While I caught glimpses of the palace as we rolled up on the carriage, being on foot reveals the true grandeur.
I observe the numerous steeples that seem to reach the heavens, their tips disappearing beyond the veil of low-hanging clouds. The sheer brilliance of its design is remarkable. From afar, you'd never see it. The palace having been constructed to reflect the natural light of the ice, rendering it almost invisible and seamlessly blending in with the surrounding background.
This ingenious tactic of hiding the royal palace in plain sight explains why many bandits who invaded Jotunheim returned empty-handed, unable to even locate the palace.
Standing here now, I can truly appreciate the genius of the Jotun people and their remarkable architectural talent.
"The sight is truly remarkable, isn't it?" Loki remarks, his footsteps crunching on the crisp snow, signalling his approach. Though the tension still lingers between us, I maintain a civil and formal demeanour, realising that this is how we should have behaved from the start.
"The architect's ingenuity is undeniable," I reply. "His ability to blend the palace with the snow has no doubt saved many battles, I'm sure."
"My great, great, ancestor constructed it after being inspired by a dream one night. The vision plagued him for years, driving him to build it before he feared he'd go mad," Loki confesses.
"So creativity runs in your bloodline," I remark, turning from the palace and glancing at Loki. "What gifted heirs you will produce..."
I admit, my last sentence carried a hint of bitterness. I guess I still harbor some anger towards Loki for his earlier act of pushing me aside.
I forge ahead, trudging towards the cleared path in front, each step a battle against the sinking ground. Despite the challenge, I press on, determined to rely solely on my own strength, particularly since I had declined Loki's earlier offer to help me off the carriage.
It may have been seen as rude, but it's crucial for me to assert my independence, and for him to understand the need for distance between us. We must be formal. Royal associates. Allies even. Enough of the overly pleasant gestures that play with my emotions and confuse my thoughts.
Besides, with the watchful eyes of the many Jotun's surrounding us, I'm confident Loki appreciates my decision not to accept his help. It's a choice that benefits us both.
I sense Loki close behind me, ever vigilant for my sudden fall. But I persevere and make it to my destination, despite the hem of my torn dress soaked with water and weighed down by clumps of snow.
I stomp my boots, vigorously removing the snow before continuing my walk along the now cleared paths. However, the small giggles coming from the guards catch my attention, prompting me to look up from my boots. I'm puzzled as to why they find my action amusing. After all, it is customary and respectful to dust off one's shoes before entering a place. I wonder if they appreciate the respect I am showing.
