A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Move You' by Kelly Clarkson

If I Knew

Chapter Twenty Two

I was a city boy
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun
But I wouldn't've done
All the things that I have done
If I knew one day you'd come

She feared she might actually have gone too far this time. He had been punishing her for days now, ever since their excursion in the grove. Where she had left him behind without a backward glance. She had not expected him to withdraw completely. It wasn't that he avoided her, he could hardly do that without attracting attention, but he treated her like any other member of the Court. Beneath his notice. At first she'd been amused, assuming he was licking his wounds, but the longer it went on the more worried she got. He seemed to have given up the game completely. He no longer sought her out, no longer crept up on her whenever she was alone, no longer went out of his way to annoy Leif for her benefit.

She absolutely refused to forfeit the game. This was just another tactic he was employing to weaken her defences and she wouldn't have it. She went about her days as if she hadn't a care in the world, happy to be being courted by a prominent Lord and establishing her place in the Court without her beloved Queen to guide her. But things were not well. Since their scuffle by the river, Leif had lost all interest in her and he actually did avoid her if he could. She knew she'd wounded his pride but she didn't really care. However, it was causing gossip at Court and she had no interest in allowing that to continue. So she played the dutiful fiancée.

She was currently organising a ball in honour of his birthday, a foolish idea in her eyes, but it had made her future mother-in-law beam approvingly at her when she'd broached the idea, and it kept her mind occupied. She was on her way to the kitchens to accost one of the best chefs and persuade her to cater the ball, it was always more difficult to get women on her side when they seemed to take an instinctive dislike to her, when she almost walked right into her Prince. Literally.

Startled, she stumbled back a step before catching her balance on the marble floor. He was wearing his idiotic mask as always, he'd stopped removing it in her presence, and the cold look on his face made her want to slap him. It took her a second for her brain to catch up with her eyes and acknowledge the skinny little thing hanging off his arm. Her gaze zeroed right in, studying her from head to toe with disdain.

"King Odin." She ducked into a gracefully curtsy, her rose-pink gown pooling around her.

He muttered something to the giggling thing clinging to him and then nodded his head for her to rise. She did, her face an impassive mask.

"Roaming the lower halls, Lady Eira?" There was a mocking tone in his voice that set her teeth on edge, but she kept control and gave a pretty roll of her shoulder, bared by the dress.

"I'm on my way to the kitchens." She curved her lips into an icy smirk. "Your Majesty."

His eye narrowed at the deliberate delay in providing his title, but she kept her face blank of any expression other than polite sweetness.

"Tired of singing?"

She caught the undertone but she ignored it, just as she was ignoring the simpering twit glaring at her by his elbow.

"Never, Your Majesty." She peeped at him from under her lashes. "I must speak to them about the ball."

He physically twitched and she quickly suppressed a surge of triumph. Ah, so he wasn't entirely done with her yet. He had of course heard about the ball for Leif, but Eira had cleverly sent her betrothed's mother to ask permission for it to be held. It had clearly not occurred to him that she, who never lifted a finger to assist anyone unless there was something in it for her, would be planning it.

"I see."

The fool clinging to him was frowning. She had clearly picked up on the atmosphere that was heavy between them, but she couldn't quite wrap her silly little head around the complexities yet. Eira eyed her from under lowered lashes critically. A new girl that had arrived at Court in the last few days. Her parents had clearly shipped her here to find a suitable husband. She had the bright eager-to-please shininess of the newly arrived. Her thick blond hair was rigid on top of her head, exposing a rather stunted neck. Eira tilted her head slightly, aware that the low-cut dress she was wearing emphasised the elegant length of her own throat. Her dress was clearly expensive, a boring sage-green that matched her eyes. This was really the best he could find to replace her with?

She lifted her gaze to meet his, knowing he'd watched her studying his new companion. Knowing she'd found her wanting. She straightened her back proudly, swept him a perfectly executed curtsy, nodded to the confused woman and went on her way.

Organising a ball was tedious business. Luckily her step-mother had barged in as usual and taken over. The most difficult part of the whole business, however, was wrangling a still sulking Leif. After another afternoon of trying to track him down, only for him to disappear from a room when she appeared, she had decided enough was enough. Leif was a creature of habit, one of the things that had bored her in their first courtship. She knew he'd be in his chambers after luncheon, so that was where she turned her attention.

"Oh, my Lady… I don't think… the Lord is busy!"

She walked right past the stuttering guard lounging outside the door to his chambers, not even bothering to waste time charming him. His living quarters were a shambles, she noted with distaste as she marched through the outer rooms. He still hadn't learned to lock his door she thought in amusement as she shoved open the door to his bedchamber. As expected, he was sprawled face down on the big canopied bed. She walked past it to the curtains and hurled them open.

"What-" Leif startled awake at the sudden shafts of sunlight piercing into the room.

Eira stood imperiously before him with her hands on her hips. The servant girl beside him curled into a ball, holding the sheet to her chin with trembling hands.

"Ah, beloved!" She enthused, struggling not to laugh at the mutinous look on his face. "I thought I'd find you here."

She shot a glance at the girl who was now shaking from head to toe, the colour fully drained from her face.

"You can leave, dear."

The girl edged towards the side of the bed, her eyes darting between Eira and her dress discarded on the chair. Eira scooped the dress up and held it out to her. She continued to hold her gaze as the girl crept closer. She tried to keep the sheet but Leif had rolled over and was now tangled in the other half, so she had to let go and make a desperate leap to snatch the dress from Eira's hands. She dressed with the speed of someone used to doing it alone and in a hurry, avoiding Eira's eyes. She hurried over to the door, refusing to look at either Eira or Leif.

"One moment." She froze with her hand on the doorknob. "Name."

She partly turned back to Eira and her eyes were huge with fear. Eira relished it for a moment, feeling almost sorry for the girl, a romp in the sack with Leif was hardly worth this level of humiliation.

"Ursa, My Lady." She whispered.

"Ursa." Eira rolled it over her tongue thoughtfully. It was quite pretty actually. "Ursa, give the chambers a little tidy, sweetling." The girl sagged against the door in relief. "Oh and Ursa… if I ever see you in my future husband's vicinity again." She smiled the poisonous predatory smile that she'd learned from Loki. "I'll have you fed to the beasts."

She gave a little squeak, bobbed in a confused curtsy and fled. She left the door open in her haste and Eira sighed.

"Sloppy." She rolled her eyes, crossing the room to push the door closed.

"That was rude." Leif grumbled from the bed.

She shot him a glance over her shoulder. He was rumpled from sleep and sex, the sheets pulled to his waist as he glared. She ignored it.

"There's no excuse for sloppy servants in the palace." She shrugged, crossing the room to his garderobe.

"You know what I meant." He snapped, running his hands through his hand and causing it to stick up every which way. "I can bed whoever I like, you don't have to be cruel about it."

She perused his expensive clothes thoughtfully.

"Of course you can, darling." She replied, selecting an appropriate outfit. "That's why I waited until I knew you'd be done."

He stared at her as she emerged from the adjoining room holding his clothes. He was confused. Perhaps he'd thought she'd be jealous over his fumblings with a nobody? If he was, he'd be sorely disappointed. Having been subject to Leif's seductions before, the little servant girl was welcome to them. Especially after being touched by her Prince. She let out an involuntary shiver.

"Get dressed." She ordered, placing the clothes on the chair.

He folded his arms sulkily and she fought back a surge of irritation. She'd bruised his ego, she'd have to play nice to get him back onside. Instead of shaking him like she wanted to, she forced a smile to her face.

"Please."

He goggled at her, more suspicious than ever.

"Why?" He finally asked grudgingly.

She fought to hold onto her patience. Must men be so tryingly stupid.

"We're to dine with our parents tonight."

He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, his cheeks flushing a little. She realised in amusement that he was embarrassed about his behaviour, not in case he'd hurt her, but in case his mother found out about it. Pathetic.

"Bathe first." She said as he slid out of the bed, holding the sheet around him.

He opened his mouth to argue but she levelled her gaze at him.

"I don't think it would do to greet my parents with another woman's scent on your skin." She cocked her head. "Would it, darling?"

Shame burned all over his face and he scuttled into the bathroom.

He was far more pliant after that, creeping back into her good graces as best he could. She didn't see the little servant girl again, Eira was sure he had secreted her somewhere safe from her wrath, just in case. However the bed-play seemed to have brought him back to himself to the rest of the Court. He was back to being a shining example of a courtier, flirting and dancing and gambling with the best of them. Eira didn't pay much attention, her plots were focused on one man, alone. Unfortunately that man was still avoiding her.

He seemed to have the sense not to flaunt his little concubine in front of the court, to protect Frigga's reputation rather than soothe her jealousy she was sure, but it was remarkable how many times she seemed to stumble on the two of them in the most innocuous of places! If she went to the library for some peace, there they were giggling. If she was in the gardens with her parents, they were sitting closely together in a corner gossiping. Leaving the grand hall after a night of gambling and working naive little lords into a frenzy? There they were, playing a gambling game at a table by the throne.

How obnoxious.

She refused to let is bother her. She continued with the plans for her husband-to-be's birthday ball. Well, she allowed her step-mother to do whatever she wished with the planning while she nodded along and feigned interest. And she proceeded with her prior plans to torture both of her suitors. She made sure to dress carefully, choosing gowns that were outwardly modest enough to please Leif's parents whilst being subtly enticing to the male gaze. All her gowns pinched in at her waist to enhance the curve of her behind and her slender waist, they were tightened just enough to hint at the swell of her breasts and the length of her legs. She watched with some amusement as Leif gazed at her in torment, rightfully wary yet desperately in lust.

Her real target was not unaffected by her plotting, no matter how often he dragged that giggling nobody around the palace hallways. She could feel his predatory gaze on her at all times as she drifted around the palace issuing orders and calling in favours from hot-eyed Lords. The day before the ball, she had carefully dressed in a peach gown that fell off her shoulders to emphasise his favourite feature, her throat. She'd had her hair coiled around her head to expose it fully and left it bare for full effect. She contrived to accidentally stumble upon the mismatched couple right before the little tart always attended on her aunt (a poor chaperone to say the least) for cards for an hour.

The timing was perfect and Eira rounded the corner near the old bat's personal chambers with seconds to spare. As they approached, she suppressed a smirk. Her Prince may have his hideous mask in place, but he could not hide that he was tiring of the little fool as she twittered nonsense at him. In fact she seemed to be at least intelligent enough to understand that she was losing the King's interest as she desperately babbled. As he had not planned to run into her, they were not entwined as usual, in fact he wasn't touching her at all. Caught on the hop by Eira's sudden appearance, he glared at her. Eira ignored it. She dipped elegantly into a curtsey, making sure to lower her lashes demurely the way he liked.

"Majesty." She purred, leaning just the tiniest bit forwards so he could see the tempting swell of her breasts beneath her gown.

The girl (she really should have bothered to enquire as to her name by now) pouted as Eira rose back to her feet and peered down her pretty nose at her. She shot a nervous glance at her companion who was ignoring her completely. Eira watched in amusement as the poor girl dithered, not wanting to relinquish her claim to power but realising she had no choice. Eventually she curtsied and flounced away.

The silence between them stretched out, but Eira didn't break it. She was letting him take her in. Letting his mind turn over her sudden appearance in this area of the palace, ponder who she could have been visiting. Letting his jealousy build. She schooled her face into a mask of innocence and made to step past him. His hand whipped out and clamped onto her bare arm. When she turned, his mask was gone.

"Prince?"

Her voice was cool and calm, even as her heart thundered against her ribs. He drew her towards him, his bodyheat washing over her. She inhaled his familiar scent, letting it pulse through her body.

"Prince." She said again, watching him from under her lashes. "I must see to the final arrangements for my husband's birthday."

She saw his nostrils pinch, his mouth twitch, felt his fingers biting into her arm.

"Husband." He repeated slowly, rolling the word around his mouth distastefully.

"Husband-to-be is so…" She wrinkled her nose. "Inelegant."

He pulled her suddenly against him, his long lean body rigid against her softness making her shiver.

"Inelegant." He flashed her that grin that made her toes curl. "My dear sweet little one." He chuckled menacingly and she forced herself to remain calm at the look in his eyes. "It was not a week ago that I had you on your back in the grass, gasping in want."

She felt heat in her cheeks but she refused to lower her gaze.

"Inelegant." He repeated mockingly.

She stepped back from him, although he kept his grip on her arm. She tilted her chin.

"I am not married yet, Prince." She said, sounding remarkably demure given the topic of discussion. "Who I take to bed is my affair, until I am wed."

Loki cocked his head, ignoring the violent flush of jealousy that pounded through him at the very idea. He had been punishing her since their dalliance and she knew it, but she had not crumbled as he'd wanted. He had wanted her to come begging, desperate for his attention. Preferably desperate for him to finally have his way with her. Not so. She had taken his punishment in stride, had ignored him in turn and gone about her business as if his displeasure meant nothing to her. Had she replaced him already? He scowled. Certainly not. He was irreplaceable.

Clearly he would need to contrive an alternative punishment for her, one a little more insidious. But he was done depriving himself of her. Every single time she peered up at him with that defiant tilt of her chin, looking utterly delectable in those colourful gowns, it took every inch of his self-control not to have her however he could. No, he was determined. When he finally had her, it would be because she'd come to him.