Chapter 65 - Polish and Scars

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"Y/n!" she squeals, running back to you as you instinctually drop to your knees and open your arms. She nestles right into them.


"Good morning, honey. Thank you for taking Loki his breakfast this morning," you say.


"You're welcome! You scared us yesterday, Your Highness. Where did you go?" she looks up at you with big, scared eyes.


"Oh, you don't have to worry about me," you say. "I just went for a walk. I was a little bit sad."


"Is that why Prince Thor asked me to take Loki his food yesterday too?"


"Yeah, sweetie. Probably."


"They didn't let me," she says quietly.


"What?" you ask.


"The guards didn't let me deliver any food to him yesterday after you left," Thyra says, looking at you with big, confused eyes. "I tried, Y/n, but the guards said that Prince Loki said he didn't want any visitors for the rest of the day."


Your brow furrows as you consider the implications. Why would Loki seclude himself?


"Did he accept breakfast this morning?" you ask Thyra.


"Oh, yes! He was quite hungry. But he's very sad today," she answers.


"Okay honey, thank you,' you say, giving the little girl one more squeeze. As you let her go, she gives you her usual little curtsy before racing back towards where she had been going, and disappearing up the stairs.


Turning towards the kitchens, you find Loki's tray waiting, as usual, on the table near the doorway. You cast your warming enchantment and begin making your way towards the dungeons.


Thyra said he was sad today. What does that mean? You ponder this as you raise your mental walls and defenses. 


You don't expect Loki to be standing, peering through the transparent barrier with his hands clasped behind his back as if waiting for you. His hair is slightly tousled - a bit more unkempt than usual.


As you come into view, his eyes are immediately trained on you and he watches you silently as you cross to the control panel, and begin punching in the code. 


Your skin prickles under his gaze, and your heart flutters under the intensity of his stare. He maintains his silence as the transparent wall falls and you step up on his platform. As you near, you watch as his demeanor settles into one of chilled, yet pleasant tolerance while you set his tray on his bedside table.


"You didn't bring my breakfast."


His emotionless words fill the quiet space as you adjust the tray.

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