My entire first week of working passed without any problems. I woke up, ate a small meal of bread and oatmeal, and went to deliver Prince loki's breakfast. He would smile at me, ruffle my hair, and send me off on my next chore.
I got to see Queen Frigga often, too, as I was always sent to retrieve her breakfast platter. She would host a very grown-up conversation with me after every one of the meals I was sent to pick up.
I didn't see the Allfather much, but it was still more than I wished to.
Every night, while I lay, starting placidly at the ceiling, I would think of the day I spent with the prince, wishing I would never wake up from the dream. But I always did.
The next day, I found out that Prince Thor had been banished for some reckless behavior that nearly led us into another war with Jotunheim. I shivered as I remembered the cold breath on my face, the blue, ridged skin, and the eyes. The bloody red eyes.
I woke up that night, drenched in sweat, and panting, scared out of my mind from the nightmare of my father's death.
The wind blew my curtains. I shivered, thinking of the monsters that could be lurching just behind them. Then a strong gust of cook air blew in from my open window, cold as winter. That did it.
I flew out of bed, crying, my hair tangled and my nightdress matted. I ran straight to Prince Loki's room, banging on the door with my little fists.
A sleepy looking prince opened the door.
"Rowan!" He grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he saw my teary face, his hard features softened. His eyes lost the anger and aggression, and turned sad and full of longing. Still crying, I buried my face in his shirt.
The prince held me until I calmed down. Slowly, my eyes began to drift close. I yawned. I had one last, fleeing glance at the prince's calm face before I fell into slumber.
