FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

The Execution

Queen Eira stood up abruptly, her furs pooling on the floor around her feet, “What is this?” Her voice dripped with contempt.

“We caught this scum in the princess’ bedroom,” the woman shoved Loki forward, “bow before the Queen.”

“I’d rather not,” Loki shrugged, “bad knees, you know.”

I winced as one of the guards thrust the butt of his spear into the back of Loki’s leg, and he went down heavily on one knee. Tears collected again, blurring out the Queen’s face as she descended the stairs toward Loki. When she drew close she bent down, her face inches away from his. She reached out and seized his face with one hand, “You were planning to kill my daughter, weren’t you? Assassinate her.”

“No,” Loki’s voice sounded strained, he was in pain. Was it from his knee, or was the Queen doing something to him that I couldn’t see from back here? I felt ready to burst in frustration.  My lungs swelled with the air it would take to scream, my body wanted to scream, needed to. I wanted to run forward and yell at the Queen. Don’t touch him! Let him go!

But Erik’s hand was suddenly on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that startled me. My head snapped back up as the Queen spoke,

“How did you get into the palace?”

Loki’s voice was defiant, “If you didn’t treat your servants like they were less then animals, I wouldn’t have. You ignore them, and teach them to act like they don’t exist unless you want them. So they practically become invisible. You shot yourself in the foot, your majesty. You seem to have a habit of doing that.”

Queen Eira’s face went pale, and her red mouth firmed into a hard line. She drew her arm back, and the crack of her hand hitting Loki’s face echoed through the throne room.  This time I tensed forward,  about to cave into my need to run up and stop her. Erik’s hand suddenly slid over onto my other shoulder so that his arm was circling around me, holding me back.

“Throw him in the dungeons tonight. He’ll be executed at dawn.”

My knees finally gave out. The room seemed to be spinning in dizzy circles. Erik’s arm tightened, pressing me against his chest, holding me up.  He moved sideways, practically carrying me with him as the guards dragged Loki past. The Queen turned abruptly, striding towards her throne, passing it and heading for a door behind that I hadn’t even noticed, it blended into the wall so seamlessly. Servants scurried to follow her. Clearly she thought she was too angry to be seen by her subjects right now.

“Come on,” Erik murmured in my ear, ‘let’s get you back to your room.”

I tried to tell him on the way back. I think it was guilt that made it spill out. Guilt that I hadn’t stood up for Loki, even if it would get me killed too.

“He wasn’t going to kill me,” tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother wiping them away, “he just wanted me to run away with him. He likes me.”

I expected him to be angry, but instead he just looked down at me sadly, “Amora, he might be lying. He was supposed to kill you, right? You told me so yourself.”

“That was before,” I knew it sounded pathetic when I said it, like I couldn’t accept the truth.

Erik sighed and ran one hand through his blonde hair, making it stick up like crazy, “I’m sorry to say this, but Loki is known for being a trickster. He’s an excellent liar and a skilled battle tactician. He’s all about fooling the enemy.”

My voice came out in a sob, “he doesn’t think I’m the enemy!”

We had reached the door, and Erik looked down at his hands. The look he gave me was full of pity, like I was a foolish, impulsive little girl. My hands curled into fists and for a split second I felt like hitting him. After all, he was the one who’d burst in and caught Loki in the first place. I glared at him,