"Erna! Errrrrrna!" She sighed heavily, hearing her father shout her name. "Where are you, girl?"

Well past girlhood, it always angered her when he called her girl. She silently hoped he would give up when he found her bedroom empty. She was reclining on a couch on the balcony and had no desire to speak to her father. She already had a very good idea of the subject he'd like to broach.

But the heavy tread of his boots on the stone floor came closer and she heard him grunt in triumph. "There you are!"

She feigned sleepy confusion, letting him think he'd just roused her from a nap. "Father, what a nice surprise." The words felt heavy in her mouth, but he didn't notice her obvious distaste. Typical.

"What in the Allfather's name happened this morning?" He towered over her, blue eyes watery in the late afternoon light. He'd probably already had several tankards of ale this afternoon. Tall and thick, he was built like a barrel. To hear the servants tell it, he was once a fine specimen in his warrior days, but a fondness for port and rich foods left him with a belly he tried in vain to disguise with his robes. They were such a visual contrast to one another in most ways, but he did share her red-gold hair, although silver had begun to creep into his neatly trimmed beard.

"What do you mean, father?" If he insisted on treating her like an idiot, she would act like one.

"You spoke to the king and I had to hear about it from a servant?" He made the simple act of conversing with someone of lower social status than him sound like some filthy chore. For what had to be the thousandth time, she wondered how they were even related to each other.

"I got lost on the way to breakfast and he saw me as he was leaving the hall. We exchanged a handful of words." Strictly speaking it was more than that, but she didn't want to get into the particulars of the conversation.

"What did he say?" He enunciated each word as if speaking to a small child.

"He told me breakfast was already over, but that my servants could have something sent to my room."

"And?"

"And then he had a guard escort me back to my chambers so I wouldn't get lost again."

"So you weren't alone with him?"

"No." Reynard could be unusually thick sometimes. It was why him treating her like an imbecile exasperated her all the more. Although his lack of cunning made him far easier to outwit. "Obviously not if word got out that we spoke."

"Good. Yes. That makes sense." Only after she'd pointed it out to him. Some of the angry color started to recede from his cheeks and he seemed calmer. "But you know, girl, that you're never to be alone with him. The Asgardian court doesn't tolerate that kind of behavior. This isn't Alfheim."

"A fact you reminded me of before we left, while we traveled, and when we first got here. I understand, father."

"See that you do. We can't afford another incident like the snow elf one, not here. Your reputation wouldn't withstand something like that in this realm."

She leapt to her feet and glared up at him, pure rage flashing in her amber eyes. Now she was the angry one. "That was a long time ago! I understand the damn rules now, all right?"

Not understanding the true threat of her anger, he smiled placidly at her. "And be sure to watch your language when you're at court. It's bad enough vulgar words leave your pretty little mouth in your chambers, but at least keep yourself in check in public." He had no idea how she was keeping herself in check even now. Father or not, if her staff was in her hand, she'd likely knock him onto his back given the chance.

"I have to dress for dinner now, father," she practically hissed the words at him.

"Wear something green if you would, it's the king's favorite color."

It took every ounce of control to stay silent as he strode from the room. He'd probably write home to his wife that night and brag about what a fine parent he was, guiding his wayward daughter in proper behavior. Proper. She'd never hated a word so much in all her life. It was supposed to govern her every thought and action and she wanted to throttle the people who'd decided what proper womanly demeanor was.

And she couldn't fault the women that actually enjoyed the pursuits everyone kept shoving down her throat. There were times when she found such things as needlework soothing, but the minute a man like her father pushed her to it because something else she wanted to do wasn't seemly, well it made her fucking mad.

"Fuuuuuck!" She screamed the word at the top of her lungs once she heard the door close behind him. "Fuck fuck fuck. I'll say it as often as I fucking please you misogynistic prick! Gods forbid if I talk to a man alone, lest Yggdrasil might explode! If I saw a cock before my wedding day it would likely bring about Ragnarok." The outburst made her feel better, although she wished she was able to shout it directly at her father. But as much as she wanted to rub his nose in his idiotic beliefs, she didn't want to be disowned. Her life was difficult enough as a noblewoman, it would be infinitely worse without her family's resources.

As she prepared for the meal, she idly considered running off to become a Shield Maiden. She'd be trading one set of vigorous dogma for another, but maybe it could offer her a worthwhile path for her life. And maybe she'd fit in there better than at home. A maid interrupted that line of thought with a letter.

When Erna asked who sent it, the woman just shrugged and said it had been slipped under the door.

She nearly fainted when she read the words.

I apologize for getting you into trouble. But I did check, and Yggdrasil is still in one piece, so no lasting damage seems to have occurred. I'll ensure that all the men's breeches are tightly cinched though. It's too soon in my reign to deal with the apocalypse.

L

She'd been on the balcony during her outburst. And the king had overheard her. There had to be a hole somewhere in the palace that she could disappear into. As much as she was dreading dinner before, it now multiplied by a thousandfold. But avoiding the great hall would likely bring another visit from her father and there was only so much she could stomach in one day. She threw the note into the fire before trudging out with a handmaiden in tow.

Once in the hall, she ate as quickly as she could without garnering even more attention. For once in her life, she must have appeared the perfect little lady, with downcast eyes, silently listening to the conversation around her.

Her mind whirled with questions. What had been the purpose of letting her know he'd overheard her? Maybe it was just his trickster nature. There were many such stories circulating around the palace, although most were from the time before he took the throne. The only reason she could come up with, was that he'd simply seen the opportunity to make a visiting lady uncomfortable and seized it, likely finding it a terribly funny joke.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he caught her eye entering the hall. He looked directly at her and gave a small smile before alighting to the high table. Rather than the mortification she'd expected to feel, defiance bloomed in her chest. She held his gaze and offered a small nod. It wasn't exactly disrespectful, but it wasn't embarrassment either.

Feeling that she'd succeeded in sending some kind of message, she excused herself and left the hall.