I became acutely aware of how close Loki was to me. He could reach out and touch me if he wanted, and I made sure to keep my arms firmly folded across my chest so I wouldn’t be tempted to do the same.

In a way, I had been grateful for al the chaos in the palace because I hadn’t had a chance to think about Loki, but with him standing here, I could think of nothing else but the night we’d spent together.

More than the things we’d done, the imprints burned into my skin from where he touched me, was the memory of what we’d actualy shared. A moment where I’d never felt closer to anyone, as if the two of us had become one.

The painting flashed in my mind, the image of Loki skewered at the hands of my father, and I knew that I would do whatever it took to save him, even if it went against Loki’s wishes. I could not let him die.

“I trust you have much to do, Markis,” I said, numbly, and my cheeks flushed when I realized we’d been staring at each other for some time. With my husband watching.

“Of course.” Loki gave a quick nod and turned to leave.

Tove walked after him, closing the double doors behind Loki.

Tove stood in front of them for a moment, leaning his forehead against the wood. When he turned back around to face me, he didn’t look at me. His mossy eyes flitted around the room, and he pushed up the sleeves on his pajama shirt.

“Is everything alright?” I asked carefuly.

“Yes.” He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m happy that you’re not going off to die. I don’t think I would like it if you died.”

“I wouldn’t like it if you died, either,” I said.

“But…” Tove trailed off, staring intently at a spot on the floor.

“Are you in love with him?”

“What?” I asked, and my heart dropped to my stomach. “Why would you…” I wanted to argue, but the strength had gone out of my words.

“He’s in love with you.” He lifted his head and looked up at me.

“Do you know that?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered. I walked over to the bed, needing to do something to busy myself, so I puled up the sheets. “Loki is merely –”

“I see your auras,” Tove interrupted me, his voice firm but not angry. “His is silver, and yours is gold. But when you’re around each other, you both get a pink halo. Just now you were both glowing bright pink, and your auras intertwined.” I stopped and didn’t say anything. What could I say to that?