"You don't have to go."

I rubbed my eyes, a dull ache settling into the bottom of my skull. "The feast is celebrating us. I have to be there."

He took in my waxy complexion and tired eyes. "I am the king. If I say you do not have to go to dinner, you do not have to go."

My smile resembled a grateful grimace as I shook my head. "I must have just come down with something overnight, I only feel a little nauseous. I'll be fine. I can survive one uncomfortable evening."

"Yes, well, you look ill."

"Thanks," I muttered as I rose from our mattress, pride mildly wounded. It wasn't like I was on my deathbed, my stomach just felt queasy. I slung my legs over the side of the bed and stood.

When I wavered, Loki ambled to my side and took my arm, holding me steady. His eyes flicked to my face, studying me before lowering his gaze. It dragged over my chest and his frown softened as he traced his fingers along my neck and shoulders. I still sported bites from both Loki and Lord Landvik. He ignored me when I winced at the pressure from his hand. I tried to brush his fingers off, but he patiently gripped my wrist with his free hand and pinned my arm to my side, furthering his examination. Had I more energy, I would've rolled my eyes, but I settled for clearing my throat. I lifted my chin, exposing the bites.

"Can you cover them? Before we go to the feast?"

With a nod, he fingered his wound fondly and tilted his head.

"Both bites, Loki. Not just his. We're about to see my family again. My mother will faint if she sees a mark like this," I motioned to the crescent moon of purple teeth imprints on my neck. "And my father would never forgive you."

When he raised a brow as if questioning why any of that was of importance to him, I glared. "And once Gyda is old enough to understand you sullied my honor long before we were married, she'll kill you."

The corners of his mouth twitched while he eyed me with approval. With a nod, he hovered his hand over the bites and warm green light emanated from his fingertips. The wound Lord Landvik inflicted tingled and faded away, but a faint indent of Loki's teeth remained where my neck and shoulder met.

He smiled as he stroked my décolleté. "Perfect."

I groaned and turned to the gilded dressing mirror leaned against the wall. Disregarding Loki, I fussed with my hair, combing my fingers through my dark waves so they covered the mark. He followed, sidling up behind me while I looked at my reflection. He watched me for a moment, silent until I gave up the task of concealing his brand and dropped my hands to my sides. His eyes locked on mine in our reflection and his hands wrapped around my middle.

"Even unwell, I'd still have you," he murmured against my hair.

I flushed and stayed silent, but leaned into his embrace. Outside of bed, I hadn't beenheld in ages. Being in his arms was… perhaps a little too intimate, but also wonderful. My lids slipped shut as I leaned back, my head thudding against his chest. His hands roamed my abdomen, as if trying to ease my nausea.

"I will allow you to attend the feast on the condition that you to visit Eir before we retire for the night."

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. That was fair.

"Alright."

Although I had minimized my symptoms, I really did feel sick. But this royal wedding of ours was messy enough, having waited so long and my being Loki's half-prisoner-half-consort. I didn't want to put it off any longer simply because I felt under the weather.

"I'll ring for my girls. Come find me in an hour?" I asked.

Loki nodded, lingering to watch me in the mirror for a beat before summoning his own servants to dress him in his formal armor.

I wandered to my dressing suite, which was still inside Loki's chambers. The castle staff had been sworn to secrecy long ago. Not a soul dared mention my taking up residence in Loki's rooms. Where the king favored loyalty, he openly punished betrayal. And by punished, I mean he got a sick thrill terrorizing his enemies. Lord Landvik's future was not a happy one, and it was the same for anyone who dare cross Loki.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I patted my cheeks to bring color back into them. My maids filed in carrying the forest green gown Loki had selected for me to wear that night. To my surprise, the neckline was modest, unlike last night's which practically dumped my breasts into the lap of whomever I was speaking with. I ran my fingers along the rich fabric with a grateful smile, then plucked at the ties of my dressing gown and turned to the servants.

If possible, the Great Hall was even more exquisite than the night before in preparation for the wedding. Chandeliers dripping with crystals lit the sixty-foot arched ceilings, casting a glow on the hordes of people below. Fresh cut flowers formed centerpieces on each long table stuffed with nobles and royalty from other realms.

I sat with Loki at the high table, along with my immediate family and a few others. Each course was more mouthwatering than the last, but I had to force myself to nibble at the food. Loki watched me from the corner of his eye with a look of something resembling concern. At one point, I raised a brow at him and he lifted his chin and turned away to continue his conversation with my father.

Sporadically guests visited our table. As I waned, I drew on years of engrained manners to coast through dinner, despite my lack of energy. After the first two courses, a proud man with platinum hair and a strong brow approached us with a bow, accompanied by a stunning woman with the same coloring. She would've been beautiful if her face weren't so pinched.

I felt Loki stiffen beside me and I glanced at him with uncertainty. He didn't return my gaze. Instead, he straightened and picked an imaginary speck from his jacket. He spoke without looking up.

"I don't recall issuing you an invitation to my wedding, Ivar."

"My daughter is here with one of the Dökkálfar princes. Kaija took the liberty of extending his invitation to me."

"How thoughtful of her. She certainly gets around, doesn't she?"

The older man's gaze narrowed and his counterpart scoffed. "Surely it's bad luck to slander another woman the night before you wed?"

Loki's eyes gleamed. "Slander implies the statement is false, and mine is not." Quickly moving on before the other man retorted, Loki glanced at me and nodded at the blondes. "Brynja, this is Ivar, King of the Light Elves and his Queen, Shelby."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesties."

"The pleasure is ours," Ivar said as they bowed rigidly.

When Ivar's eyes rose, they were back on Loki. "Kaija said your bride was young. She didn't tell me you were marrying a child."

Had I felt better, I would've snapped at him myself, but I was fatigued and lacked the steam for a witty remark. Kaija was older than me, that was certain. But I would make just as good a wife as the elf princess.

As if sensing my dilapidated ire, Loki caught my chin and pressed a kiss to my mouth. He maintained my gaze as he spoke, "What Brynja lacks in age she makes up for in personality and grace, which is more than I can say for Kaija."

I prided myself on taking little pleasure from spite. It wasn't an emotion I often felt. I had no desire to see others hurt. However, the frowns that smeared across Ivar and Shelby's faces were wildly satisfying. Their poor daughter was known for her vapid disposition and irritability.

Loki swiveled back to the pair. "Where is Kaija? I have yet to see her tonight."

"She felt faint and retired back to Alfheim shortly after arriving," said Ivar.

"Ah, she does bore easily, doesn't she? I suppose she just wanted to lay eyes on the woman that earned my hand in marriage."

Ivar's eyes narrowed and his wife sniffed. Loki inhaled to continue when I kicked him under the table. I didn't feel well and lacked the patience to listen to him bicker. Loki grunted, but covered the noise with a cough. After shooting me a warning glare, he set his fork down and folded his hands on the table.

"Enjoy yourself tonight, Ivar, Shelby. This will be your last foray into Asgard for many years."

They both gave a low bow and after shooting Loki a supremely dirty look, Ivar stalked off with his wife.

I reassuringly rested my hand on Loki's arm when a pair of giggling voices to the left caught my attention. Gyda and another young girl sat near the head table, at the base of the grand staircase playing some sort of game. They were singing, clapping, and hitting their hands together. After finishing the rhyme, they collapsed into a fit of laughter, and the other girl jumped to her feet.

"Bet you can't get me!"

She took off up the marble staircase. Gyda leapt to her feet, but paused and turned. She stuck out her lower lip.

"Brynja, come play like you used to."

The corner of my mouth curved in a fond smile, "Not tonight."

"Please?"

I started shaking my head when Loki layered his hand over mine. His eyes flicked between me and Gyda. He leaned close so his breath tickled against my ear, "This is your last night as a princess. You won't have the opportunity to play often when you're queen. The girl is one of Ivar's granddaughters. Go with them now. Return before the next course."

Touched, I hesitated before kissing his cheek. The tips of his ears glowed pink and he looked away, stiffly resituating himself. "Off with you," he muttered.

Teeming with energy begging to be spent, Gyda took my hand and danced circles around me as we left the table. Lifting the hems of our dresses, we made our way up the stairs.

The little girl was waiting with a grin, peeking at us from behind a pillar. Gyda sprinted after her, yelling for me to follow. Between my stomach and my pride, I wasn't planning to play very hard. My future subjects were a mere level beneath us.

The roar of the Great Hall masked Gyda's shriek as she hopped over a bannister and barreled towards me, trailed by the other girl. Ivar's granddaughter veered off in my direction, and in a blink, she tapped my hand.

"You're it!"

With pained smile, I inhaled deeply, ignoring my queasy stomach as I tailed the squealing girl. As she ran, she cupped her hands together, holding something precious to her chest. At a slower pace, I followed her around the marble pillar until she found herself trapped against a bubbling fountain. Turning, her face lit with a grin as she peaked at what was in her hands. It was clear she wanted me to ask what she had.

"May I see?"

I leaned forward, resting my hands on my thighs and as I drew closer, she nodded and opened her palms like a clamshell. When all that was revealed was a pile of fine black powder, I frowned. I opened my mouth to ask what it was when she took a deep breath and blew the dust in my face.

There was a bang and I coughed, catching myself on the railing as the offensive powder invaded my throat and sinuses. It stung and I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to sneeze.

Seconds after being assaulted by the dust, I heard Loki yell from below and my body jerked violently. I found myself hurtling through streaks of vivid colors. Somehow, I was on that damn bridge again.