Sigyn's Discovery (Part 1)

Rejection (SIGYN)

The whole trip back to the kitchen, my feet and hands tingled. My cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, though I attempted to keep a straight face around others. Servants typically washed in a communal space, but as the King's attendant, I'd been honored with a private vessel by the wall. I took advantage and bathed quickly so as not to disrupt the day's normal schedule.

While my skin didn't show signs of what happened, every muscle in my body cried out in delightful soreness. I could only hope to recover enough to perform again sooner rather than later. Wanting to leave the best impression next time he touched me, I used my knife to carefully shave the small hairs from my legs until perfectly smooth. No soldier could compete with how intimately I knew my weapon. I used a musky cream gifted to me by one of the other servants some time ago and was glad not to have wasted it on a man less worthy than Loki. Surely he would appreciate the aroma when pecking at my thighs again.

I shuddered with a content sigh at the thought.

Is it me, or is the sun stagnant? Each time I glanced toward the sky to gauge the time, it seemed to be moving backward. Night couldn't come fast enough, and I doubted Loki and I would have any time to even speak privately until then—so all I could do was wait.

Servants flooded the kitchen to gather breakfast for their charges, and I was no exception. More than a few of them cocked a brow my way, too observant that my attitude was more restless than usual. My feet pushed me forward at an abnormally quick pace and I rolled my eyes in annoyance when people stopped or slowed before me. They only made time drag.

False Odin was already present in his throne when I crested the top of the noble floor to the judgment hall. His usual crowd of worried soldiers surrounded him. Their voices were more hushed than usual.

A private pair standing by the tray stand chattered away. "Another fleet? Is Heimdall sure?"

"Indeed. Might be here as soon as tomorrow." The man made eyes at his red-clad companion and pressed his lips in a line.

My heart jumped at the thought of more fighting. More carnage. War.

The troop shifted away from the throne and toward Odin's chambers, no doubt to meet more privately in his foyer. I stood with my hands behind my back and bowed my head until most of them passed, attempting to melt into the pillar I stood beside. Good servants didn't make themselves any more noticeable than furniture.

Still, I hoped to meet False Odin's eye before he left the hall. I wasn't so fortunate.

Midday came and went—per as usual, the breakfast tray remained untouched, and the second was likely to stay that way as well. After assisting with some duties downstairs, I found Peorth cutting bandages alone in a quiet room alone.

While I knew it was Peorth and not Loki in disguise, the sight of her still made me uneasy. I tapped on the doorway to get her attention. "Can you assist me with something?"

She came out of the trance of her work and smiled at me. "Of course, what do you need?"

I relaxed, wishing I could confide in someone about my stolen love affair, but clipped my tongue and kept my task at the forefront. "As a healer, I hope you'll know what I need by description alone. I seek a...a potion of sorts, though it isn't for ingesting. It feels somewhat oily and smells hot. Makes the nose run. It's a healing balm in liquid form."

Peorth blinked a few times and snickered. "You don't know its proper name?"

"No. Every time I've seen it, the concoction has no label. Allfather found some in Queen Frigga's chambers and used it to stay comfortable beyond his injury, but the bottle shattered last night and the rest was lost."