Chapter 36
It had nearly been two weeks since I returned from Alfheim. It was late in the evening, and I had been keeping Frigga company in her room. Loki and Thor were off having a late-night training session.
Frigga and I were deep in conversation, enjoying the quiet, when a servant entered with a letter in hand. She handed it to Frigga, which made sense—letters were far more likely to be addressed to the Queen. But instead of opening it, Frigga passed it to me.
My name was written elegantly across the front. That alone made my stomach drop. I hardly ever got letters, and one delivered to Frigga’s room? That was even stranger.
I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The handwriting was graceful and immediately familiar.
Dear Aurora,
If this letter finds you, then something is very wrong. I have been investigating the magic user who has been stealing magical items in Alfheim. I now have reason to believe this person has traveled here, to Asgard—though I do not yet know why. As a failsafe, I have written you this letter.
I have placed a magical veil upon it each night to keep it hidden from my servants. If for any reason I am unable to renew the spell, the letter will become visible, and my servant will deliver it to you.
If you are reading this, please come to my quarters. There you will find the details of my investigation—where I went, and why I failed to conceal this letter tonight.
Please, do not fear this to be a ploy to win you back. You are the only person I trust fully in Asgard. I sincerely hope you never receive this message.
I am aware I am defying the Queen’s orders by contacting you. I hope you will forgive me and cover for me this once. I did everything in my power to stay away from you, as you asked—but as this letter already violates that request, I ask one more thing:
I have been wanting to apologize to you.
I am sorry for all the pain I caused. I know so much could have been avoided if I had only been honest—honest with myself about what I did to Yrissa, and honest with you about the severity of the last dream. I know you do not believe me, but my feelings for you were real. I truly believe that if I had been a better man, you might have been able to love me.
This is the last I will speak of it. I understand that my apology will not change your view of me, nor does it excuse my actions. I respect your wishes, and I want nothing more than your happiness—even if that means we never speak again.
I understand what truly happened between us, and I take full responsibility.
Forever your servant,
Muriel
My face must have betrayed the shock I felt, because Frigga immediately leaned forward.
“My dear, is everything alright?”
“I… I don’t know,” I said, still staring at the letter. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to go. There’s something I urgently need to take care of.”
She reached out and took my hands gently. “Then go, my dear. But know that you have my confidence. If you need help with anything, just ask.”
I gave her hands a small squeeze. “I know. Thank you. But this is something I have to handle on my own for now. If there’s trouble, I promise I’ll call for help.”
She nodded without question. I was grateful she didn’t pry.
I said goodbye and left without delay, heading straight for Muriel’s quarters.
I had never been there before, but I knew where they were. There was an entire wing reserved for visiting diplomats, just a short distance from the royal quarters. It didn’t take long to find the Elven room—each door was decorated in the style of its home realm, and Muriel’s was unmistakable.
The door was unlocked.
I paused and reached out with my gift. The room was empty— no presence, not even a servant nearby.
Cautiously, I stepped inside.
It was luxurious, but smaller than mine. A reception area with a few chairs and a fireplace, but no dining or study space. A door led off to what I assumed was his bedroom. The lights were lit in the sitting room, but the bedroom beyond was dark.
I didn’t want to draw attention by turning on more lights, so I summoned a small orb—just enough to make things a little easier to see—and gave my eyes a moment to adjust. Once they had, I spotted a desk tucked into the far corner of the bedroom, covered in a mess I never would’ve expected from Muriel. Papers were scattered everywhere, and a toppled inkwell had spilled black ink across part of the surface.
Pages were missing from journals.
It looked like someone had gone through everything in a hurry.
I scanned the room. The bed was made, perfectly neat. The balcony doors were shut.
But as I stepped closer to the bed, something strange happened.
A tingling sensation crept up my spine.
There was nothing there—just the bed—but the closer I got, the stronger it became. I recognized it almost immediately. It felt like the lingering trace of an illusion… only far more intense than anything I had sensed before.
I had been honing my skills over the past few weeks—enough to recognize their residue when I felt it. And this one was strong. Very strong.
I stepped up to the edge of the bed and laid my hand lightly on the coverlet.
A sharp zap of magic crackled against my skin the moment I touched it.
The illusion held.
To the eye, the bed looked clean and untouched. But beneath the illusion, the fabric felt wet. Not damp. Wet.
I drew my hand back slowly.
The orb of light I had summoned cast a faint green glow, but it was enough to show that something dark clung to my fingers. I couldn’t tell what it was in the tinted light, so I walked back into the reception room for a clearer look.
I held up my hand and froze.
It was red.
Thick, syrupy, and wet. My stomach churned.
Blood.
My fingers trembled, but I didn’t wipe it off. Not yet. I didn’t know what to do. Should I call a guard? Would they even believe me? Would they think I had been in Muriel’s room, tampering with things?
“Loki will believe me.” I said it aloud to steady myself.
Then I reached through our bond.
“Loki, where are you? I need help.”
I did my best to sound calm, but I knew he would already feel the panic in me.
His voice came through at once.
“I am training with Thor. What is going on? What is wrong?”
“Something is very wrong. I can’t explain it—I just need you to come. Please, I need you here now. Bring Thor, but come quickly. I’m in Muriel’s quarters. It looks empty, but something is horribly wrong. You should probably send for your mother too—but please, hurry.”
I felt Loki’s anger flare the second I told him where I was.
“We are on our way—but there had better be a very good reason for you to be there. I have sent a servant with an urgent message to my mother. Are you unharmed, Aurora? Did he hurt you?”
His voice rang in my head, tight with panic.
“No, I’m not hurt. And Muriel isn’t here. Just get here and I’ll explain.”
I sat down in one of the reception room chairs and pulled my feet up beneath me. I cradled my bloody hand carefully in my lap, trying my best not to let it touch anything. Muriel’s letter was still clutched in my other hand. I rocked gently back and forth as a chill ran through me.
About seven minutes later, I heard footsteps pounding down the corridor.
Relief crashed into me as the door burst open and Loki and Thor stormed into the room.
“What in the Nine Realms are you doing here?” Loki snapped, his voice sharp with anger and fear.
I didn’t answer. I just handed him the letter.
He took it, and I saw Thor read it over his shoulder. While they were reading, the door opened again—Frigga swept in, her face grim.
“What in the Norns’ name is the reason you are all in this room?”
They turned to look at me.
“Remember the letter I received?” I asked, nodding toward the parchment in Loki’s hand.
They’d finished reading it. I gestured for Loki to hand it to his mother. She took it, read in silence, then turned to me—so did Thor and Loki.
“I did what he asked,” I said quietly. “I checked his notes. There’s a desk in the bedroom—it’s filled with journals and loose papers. But it looks like someone went through them. Pages have been ripped out, the desk is a mess, and an inkwell was knocked over.”
Loki started to move toward the bedroom.
“Loki, stop!” I shrieked. He froze instantly.
I took a breath and tried to steady my voice.
“When I couldn’t find anything useful in the notes, I looked around the room. I was about to check the balcony when I felt an incredibly strong magical tingle coming from the bed. I think it’s an illusion. When I touched it, the bed felt… wet. But it still looked perfectly clean. I didn’t want to turn on the bedroom lights, so I went back to the other room to check my hand.”
I swallowed hard.
“And that’s when I saw it, that’s when I called you.”
I let my feet drop to the ground and stood. Then I showed them my hand.
Frigga gasped.
“I think it’s blood,” I said in a small voice. “The bed is spelled with an illusion. I think it’s hiding something really bad.”
Loki was beside me in an instant, his arm wrapping around my shoulders.
“I need to go into the bedroom and investigate,” he said calmly. “I believe it is best if you stay here.”
No way in hell.
“I’m going in with you,” I said, louder than I meant to—stronger than I felt.
We walked into the bedroom, and all I could do was stare at the clean, pristine bed. It looked completely untouched. Loki waved his hand, and the room filled with a soft, bright light. I stayed near the doorway while Loki and Frigga moved around the bed. Thor stayed beside me, giving them space.
“Loki, do you feel this?” Frigga asked. I saw him nod.
“Yes. Aurora was correct. There is an illusion cast over the bed.”
He turned toward me.
“Did you attempt to break it?”
“No. The only magic I used in this room was summoning a light orb. When I felt the illusion and found the wetness, I went back into the sitting room to see what it was that was on my hand.”
Loki nodded, then looked to Frigga. I could tell they were silently discussing something.
Together, they raised their hands and pressed gently against the air surrounding the bed.
“Do you recognize the magical trace?” Loki asked.
Frigga’s brow furrowed. “No. This is not a Seiðr signature I have ever encountered. Whoever cast this illusion is unknown to me.”
Loki dropped his hand. “Nor do I recognize it. I have never worked with anyone who uses magic like this. And the illusion is too powerful for something so simple. No one in the palace—at least no one we know—should be capable of this level of magic with an unfamiliar Seiðr trace.”
He hesitated. “It is similar to what I discovered in Alfheim… but not identical. It was not cast by the same individual.”
They stood in silence for a moment, both visibly disturbed.
“We should break the illusion,” Frigga said. “We have witnessed the trace. If needed, we can identify it later. But now, we must know why Aurora found blood on her hand.”
Loki nodded and turned back to me.
“Are you certain you do not wish to leave the room?” he asked gently.
I shook my head.
“It can’t be worse than what I’m already imagining.”
He stepped forward and raised his hands again, this time pressing against the edge of the illusion. I felt the ripple of his magic hit resistance. Frigga followed suit, her hands mirroring his movements. The room filled with sparks of light as their power pushed against the enchantment.
Then the illusion shattered.
I gasped, and Frigga covered her mouth with one hand.
I had been wrong—what I imagined was nowhere near this.
The bed was soaked in blood. In the center of it, pale against the crimson, lay Muriel.
I took a step forward before my brain caught up with what I was seeing. There was a massive hole in his chest—right where his heart should have been. My stomach turned.
Next to him lay a bloodied blade. Muriel’s own knife.
I wanted to scream, to throw up, to cry—but I was just frozen in place.
I heard Loki curse and noticed him moving toward me. He put his arms around me, but it barely registered. I saw Thor cross the room to his mother, placing a hand on her shoulder. The emotions radiating through the room were overwhelming. I thought I might black out.
Then… nothing.
All the emotions vanished. Everything went numb. Only my own horror remained.
My legs gave out. I sank to the floor, but Loki caught me and lowered me gently. I just sat there, staring at the blood-soaked bedding.
Muriel was dead.
Not just dead—murdered.
Some desperate part of me hoped it was all an illusion. A cruel joke. Maybe this bloody body was the spell. Maybe he would sit up and smirk, fooling us all.
But then I looked down at my hand.
His blood was still there.
I needed it off. Now.
I rubbed my hand against my skirt, trying to clean it, but only made it worse. The red smeared across the fabric—sticky, thick, impossible to ignore.
I crawled backwards across the floor, needing distance. My back hit the wall and I slumped against it, shaking. Loki knelt beside me. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him. Thor and Frigga were talking too—voices rising and falling—but it was like they were underwater.
Then I caught a few clear words.
“Get the guards, Loki. I will make sure Aurora is alright.” Frigga’s voice was sharp, commanding.
Loki hesitated, then obeyed.
Frigga moved to kneel beside me.
“Aurora?” she said gently.
I looked up at her.
“I’m okay,” I replied in a tiny, brittle voice.
The emotions in the room started to return—hers first. Worry. Shock.
I wiped my face with my sleeve. Tears. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment. Here we go again. Poor Aurora, breaking down.
I tried to push it all back. I forced myself to stand, and Frigga steadied me with a hand on my arm.
“Let us wait in the other room,” she said softly.
I nodded and followed her out of the bedroom.
I didn’t look back at the bed. I already knew I’d never forget what I’d seen. That image was seared into me.
Muriel. Pale. Bloody. Empty.
We reached the sitting area and sat down. I stared at the floor, trying to gather myself, but grief kept creeping in—grief and guilt.
We’d been friends. Even more than that, once. And now he was gone. He had wanted to apologize, to make things right. I never gave him the chance.
He was supposed to live for thousands of years. He was a prince, a fighter. How had this happened?
“What will happen now?” I asked, glancing at Frigga.
“Thor is fetching his father, and Loki the guards,” she said, her voice tense. “There will be a full investigation into his death. We must all give statements. This is extremely serious, Aurora. He was the Crown Prince of Alfheim.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“I must ask you something difficult,” she continued. “Have there been any recent interactions between you and Muriel that I should be aware of? Any altercations between him and my sons?”
I shook my head. “Nothing new. I saw him once since his return. A few weeks ago, Thor and I were walking in the gardens when Muriel ran into us—completely by accident. I could feel it. It startled him as much as it did me. Thor was ready to attack, but I stopped him. Muriel asked if he could speak with me, and I said no. Thor revoked his right to address any member of the royal family by name. I told him to leave me alone—and he did. This letter,” I said, nodding toward the folded parchment, “is the only contact I’ve had since.”
Frigga nodded slowly.
“Aurora, I must ask something else of you. My sons… both held a grudge against Muriel. While I cannot imagine them doing something like this, I need to be certain. You are an empath. Can you read them for me? I need you to promise me—if you sense anything, anything at all—that you will tell me the truth. I cannot protect them unless I know.”
I hesitated, then nodded.
“I think I was in shock when we first found the… body,” I said, my voice faltering. “I couldn’t feel anything but my own horror. But when they’re back, I’ll try. You have my word. I won’t lie.”
“Thank you,” Frigga said gently. “If you do sense anything concerning, come to me first.”
“Of course,” I nodded. I trusted her completely.
We sat in silence till the door opened again. Thor returned, and Odin was with him.
I felt the surge of his fury as soon as he entered. His gaze didn’t even pass over us—he went straight to the bedroom, Thor at his side.
I closed my eyes and focused.
Odin was furious. Raging beneath the surface.
Thor was angry too—but also shocked. His emotions radiated a raw sense of injustice. Grief. Frustration. But no guilt. No trace of cruelty or satisfaction.
I inched closer to Frigga and whispered, “Odin’s furious. Thor’s angry, horrified by what happened. But… I don’t feel anything that would make me suspect him.”
She nodded and took my hand. I could feel her relief in the bond.
Then Loki stepped into the room.
“Mother,” he said, “the guards have been informed. I ordered them to secure this wing, this room, and our own quarters immediately.”
Frigga motioned toward the open bedroom. “Your father and brother are inside.”
Loki joined them.
I shifted my attention again, reaching for his emotions.
What I felt from him hit harder than I expected.
Loki was furious—yes. Shocked—yes. But beneath all of that was a deep, pulsing grief. Pain. Loss.
Despite everything that had happened… Loki still cared deeply for Muriel.
I had to bite back tears as I turned to Frigga.
“He’s not just angry or shocked,” I whispered. “Loki’s hurting. He’s grieving. Muriel’s death is… it’s hitting him hard.”
A tear slid down Frigga’s cheek. “Thank you, Aurora. As a mother, I would never distrust my sons. But as queen… I must look at them first. They had reason to hate him. I know my son—his emotions run deep. I am heartbroken that he is in pain. But I am grateful to know he still had love in his heart for Muriel.”
I looked at her. “Do you distrust me?”
She blinked, then smiled softly.
“No, my dear,” she said, gently rubbing my arm. “You wear your heart on your sleeve. The way you reacted in that room… no actor alive could fake that. I believe in your innocence. Though my husband will still want to question you.”
And, right on cue, Odin stepped into the reception room and fixed his piercing eyes on me.
“Is it true?” he asked, voice like iron. “You were the first one in this room?”
I nodded.
“It seems his murder occurred earlier this evening. Lady Eir will confirm, but I require a full account of your day—particularly what you did after receiving the letter,” Odin said, his voice clipped and cold.
The emotional distance I felt from him wasn’t personal—it was deliberate. This was Odin the king speaking… not Loki’s father.
“Odin, would you be willing to see for yourself?” I asked, my voice tired. “I don’t want there to be even the slightest doubt. Please—like during the trial. Look at my day, or even the last two. I have nothing to hide.”
The chill in him softened just a little.
“Thank you, Aurora,” he said, his tone gentler now. “This will assist me greatly in the pursuit of the perpetrator.”
To my surprise, he knelt in front of my chair. He was tall, and even kneeling we were nearly eye to eye. He reached out and placed his hands lightly at my temples. I closed my eyes and allowed him in.
The day played back in my mind like a vivid dream. When the memory of Muriel’s bloodied body surfaced, I clenched the armrests—but Odin said nothing. A moment later, it was over, and I sagged into the chair.
He squeezed my hand gently.
“I am sorry for your loss, Aurora,” he said. “I know you parted on difficult terms, but I also know you once cared for him. This cannot be easy.”
“Thank you for your kind words,” I replied quietly, managing half a smile.
I glanced at Loki. His worry was written all over his face.
Odin turned to his sons. “My sons, I must ask for the same level of trust that Aurora has just shown. Under normal circumstances, I would never request this of you. Please do not take offense. But Muriel was the Crown Prince of Alfheim. The House of Odinson must be above all suspicion.”
Both Thor and Loki nodded without hesitation. I watched as Odin repeated the process, viewing their memories as well. When he finished, he gave a short, relieved nod.
There was a soft knock at the door. Thor opened it to reveal Lady Eir. Frigga moved to greet her and led the healer into the other room.
Odin turned to his sons once more.
“I suggest you both get some rest. The coming days will be demanding. I shall inform the guards and oversee matters tonight with your mother. Tomorrow we will proceed as necessary. Loki, please alter the wards on the royal wing. Only the royal family, Lady Aurora, and our personal handmaidens are to pass beyond our doors. I would see our family protected.”
Thor and Loki didn’t reply immediately, but I could feel their frustration. They wanted to do something. Sitting still was not in their nature.
“Could someone walk me back to my rooms?” I asked softly. “I don’t feel entirely safe wandering the halls alone right now.”
Their eyes snapped toward me at once—protective instincts immediately kicking in. I saw Odin’s mouth twitch, amused, and I knew he’d caught on to my tactic. I didn’t care. It worked.
We left together in silence. As we reached our wing, I saw the enhanced security at work—nearly a dozen guards were stationed at the entrance. They let us pass without a word.
Thor gave me a quiet goodnight, then Loki walked with me the rest of the way to my door. The hallway was lined with guards, but not close enough to overhear us.
“Do you need company tonight?” he asked softly.
I nodded.
“I will adjust the wards as my father requested, then enter through the bookcase passage. I do not wish to startle you by appearing without warning. It will only take a few minutes—you will not be alone long.”
I nodded again, unable to find my voice.
He waited until I closed the door before leaving.
I stood there for a moment, the door against my back, trying to make sense of the evening. What had Muriel uncovered? Whatever it was, it had to be serious for him to end up dead.
I shook the thought away. There were people far more qualified to ask that question.
I pushed off the door and walked to my bedroom—and just as I entered, the bookcase opened and Loki stepped through.
His eyes found my skirt instantly.
I looked down.
Blood. Muriel’s blood. Smeared across the fabric in thick, ugly streaks.
My stomach turned.
I ran for the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. Loki was behind me at once, holding my hair and steadying me.
When I was done, he helped me to my feet. I rinsed my mouth, then waved my hand and replaced the dress with a nightgown. The bloodstained garment fell to the floor. I didn’t want it near me—not even in my void storage.
Loki picked it up.
“Shall I take care of this?” he asked.
“Yes, please. Burn it. I don’t ever want to see it again.”
He nodded and stepped out.
I stared at my hand—the one that had touched the blood.
I suddenly felt the need to wash it again.
I turned on the faucet and grabbed the soap. The water was scalding hot, but I didn’t care. I scrubbed and scrubbed, desperate to erase every trace.
Then I felt his arms around me.
“Aurora, you are hurting yourself,” Loki said gently, pulling me back.
He turned off the tap and turned me toward him. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I just stared at my hands, now red and raw from the heat and scrubbing. He took them in his and let his magic soothe the skin, returning it to its normal color.
That was when it hit me. Muriel was dead. I had seen his body. His blood had been on my hands.
Before I could even breathe in to cry, Loki pulled me into his arms.
I sobbed against him, clinging to him like a lifeline. I didn’t even register him carrying me to the bed. I just cried until I couldn’t anymore… and then lay still, safe in his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This isn’t fair. You’re in pain and grieving too.”
I looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot—he had cried with me, and I hadn’t even noticed.
“It is stupid,” he said with a dry, humorless smile. “I wanted to kill him for what he did to you. And now he is dead, and I am crying over him.”
I could feel the tangled confusion inside him.
“That’s because even after everything… he was still our friend,” I whispered. “He didn’t deserve to die like this.”
Loki didn’t answer. But I could feel it through the bond—he agreed.
“Aurora, about what my father said…” Loki’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “Did you ever love Muriel? I know there was something between you both. I know you told me he did not love you… but did you love him?”
I shook my head slightly. “I really liked him, especially when things between us were good. There were moments when I thought maybe I’d fall for him eventually… but I never did.”
I hesitated, then added, “I think it was partly because I could feel his emotions. I could feel the lack of love from his side. I think that unconsciously kept me from developing anything deeper. With my ability, it’s easy to get swept up in someone else’s feelings, but it also grounds me. Keeps me from falling in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same. And honestly, I can’t think of anything worse than loving someone who doesn’t love you back.”
I glanced up at him, suddenly self-conscious. “I hope you don’t think less of me—knowing I wasn’t in love with him.”
“No,” he murmured near my ear. “It makes you sound wise.”
He exhaled softly. “I think many would envy your gift for that reason alone. To know when they are loved, and not waste time where they are not. To walk away before the heartbreak.”
I shook my head. “It’s not as useful as it sounds. At least when you don’t know, there’s hope. Yes, it saves you pain in the end—but going through life knowing someone you love for doesn’t feel the same… it still hurts.”
I shifted in his arms, finding a more comfortable spot. We stayed like that most of the night—sometimes talking, sometimes silent. Neither of us slept much. When we did drift off, it was never for long. The image of Muriel haunted my dreams, and each time I cried out, Loki was there to wake me. To hold me.
By the time dawn arrived, we’d only caught a few hours of rest. And neither of us wanted to face what the day would bring.