After a long encounter with Loki, Chelsea finally dragged herself away and into the queen's chambers.
"Chelsea," Frigga said softly. "Come." Frigga was on her balcony, sitting at an iron table. "Sit with me." The queen studied the girl's face. She was clearly exhausted and the news of the engagement, while fresh, had already taken a toll on her.
"Have I done something wrong?" Chelsea sounded like a child again, and the meek squeak of a voice made Frigga's throat tighten. The girl's eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks streaked with fresh-fallen tears.
"No," she choked, "my dear, please understand this is naught but politics." She offered Chelsea a lemon bar from the table. "Come, you've missed luncheon and dinner. You must have something. Loki would have my head if I didn't try to get you to eat."
The girl declined and slumped down in her seat. She thought of something, anything to break the silence, but words wouldn't come.
"Chelsea, my girl," Frigga said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, "I haven't been honest with you."
Chelsea perked up. "What do you mean? Is there a way to get out of the engagement?" Her lips pulled upward in hope.
"No," Frigga quickly said. "Odin has decided that you shall marry Fandral, and I'm afraid he is set on that happening. I feel we've deceived you, but that's not the intent. It was never the intention."
A look of mistrust washed over Chelsea's face. "I don't know where else I'd have gone, but had I known signing that decree meant I'd be engaged to marry someone I didn't love and barely know, I'd have given more thought to the matter."
"So who do you love?"
Chelsea stared at Frigga. "What?"
"You said you don't love Sir Fandral. Is there someone else you love?" Frigga took a sip of tea.
"You and everyone in the realm knows I love your son." Chelsea's voice had changed. She was defiant and angry. The emotions were roiling up from within her. The time for lamenting her fate had passed. She had nothing to lose. "And he loves me. Yet I'm set to marry one of the drunken warriors whom I have absolutely no interest in." She huffed in anger, flexing her fingers into fists. "I want a real reason. Princes have married lesser women. Thor shall take the throne, not Loki. Tell me truly why I am forbidden from marrying him."
"There is a deeper reason for this," Frigga softly explained. "You must vow to never speak a word of what I'm about to tell you to Loki. I trust that your love will help you keep this secret as I have for hundreds of years."
Sitting forward on her seat in interest, Chelsea nodded solemnly. "Not a word."
***
"Are you insane?" Thor roared the next morning at breakfast. "Absolutely not. What has become of you, Brother?"
Loki looked around quickly, but Thor hadn't drawn any more attention than usual. The entire realm was used to his boisterousness. They'd met for an early breakfast and Loki had pitched his idea to an unreceptive audience. "It will only be temporary; long enough to undo the whole thing. How many times has he fallen into Odinsleep? What would one more matter? When you stepped in as regent, you could call off the engagement. Elsewise you can fly off to fight some enemy army and I'll step in as regent."
"What would my reasoning be? Just because you don't like it? No, Loki." Thor pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry. No tricks. No playing king."
Fandral strolled into the hall. "Good morrow," he called cheerfully. He trotted over and sat next to Loki. "I got the official word that Lady Chelsea has been informed of the engagement. I heard she fell ill yesterday. Too bad. I'd have liked to celebrated with her last night." He guffawed and elbowed Loki. "Come, Your Grace, you can surely share your prize. The ranks talk about that girl. She's the only woman who refuses even conversation, who scoffs at our battle stories. It makes the men curious, and I must admit, I have imagined her as well."
Loki's lip curled and he seemed to swell in his chair. There were so many possibilities, so many spells and enchantments. Which to use?
Thor quickly stomped on his foot under the table. When Loki wasn't quick with a comeback, people were in actual danger. Thor had seen his mother conjure dangerous magic when provoked, and was sure Loki had learned the very same spells. "Actually, Fan, things aren't set in stone."
Fandral's face fell. "Why not? I got word from Odin just yesterday that she joined the realm and is under his command. He commanded her to marry me. What happened since then?"
"She's not interested," Loki growled. He pushed his food away. The rage filling him completely left no room for breakfast.
Fandral laughed. "Classic! Here's Little Brother, trailing the big boys, wanting to play with their playthings, and do what they are doing. Give it up, Highness. The girl belongs to me."
"Fan," Thor warned. "I don't think,"
A loud crack cut him off. Fandral's chair had literally exploded into hundreds of tiny splinters. He hit the floor hard and swore. Reaching to cradle his head, he found blood seeping from his split scalp. He jumped to his feet with an array of curses and pulled the largest splinters from his legs.
Loki kicked his own chair out of the way. Wood splintered as the chair hit the wall. His blade sang as he whipped it from his belt. "Speak of her as an object again and I shall see you killed."
Fandral drew his sword in return, his face bright red. "I've had enough of you. The annoying little brother, always in my way."
Thor stood and tried to place himself between his friend and his brother. Mjolnir was in his chambers, not that he'd wanted to hit either of them with it.
"Is something the matter?" a woman's voice came.
The three looked to the door, where Sif had emerged. She wore a strange expression as she approached the table.
"I'm going to kill him," Fandral said with a shrug. "I'd appreciate not having to do it in front of a lady, so if you'd kindly excuse yourself." He turned his sneer back to Loki, whose face betrayed no sign that Sif's entrance distracted him.
"I'm afraid not," Sif said, stepping past Fan and pushing his sword hand away fearlessly. "I won't have anyone maiming my betrothed before our wedding."
Thor and Fandral all exchanged glances.
Still scowling at Fandral, Loki said, "Come again?" He knew better than to be bewildered. Odin was a man of his word and swift to anger. Loki just hadn't expected the decision to come so quickly.
"Haven't you heard?" Sif replied, pinching Loki's cheek briefly before giving him two firm pats. "We're to be married in a fortnight."