“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Astrid said.
“If you insist, Your Majesty.”
Astrid frowned.
Freya covered the awkwardness by beginning the process of pinning the crown in place atop Astrid’s brunette hair. When Astrid stood from her vanity, her grand cloak brushed the floor at her feet. She looked every inch powerful, every inch a queen.
I am not in love, Freya told herself again.
Dinner was blissfully uneventful. When it was over, a courier waited at the door to Astrid’s antechamber, surrounded by three guards and carrying a box determined to wriggle out of their hands.
“What is this?” Astrid asked.
“For Freya Wedd,” the courier said. A grumbling noise came from the box.
Astrid raised her eyebrows significantly at Freya.
“Extra protection,” Freya said. She accepted the box from the courier and brought it with her into the antechamber.
“Freya,” said Astrid, “I think we need to talk about these precautionary measures you’ve been taking. I’d like you to ask me before you do anything drastic. I feel I can’t take two steps without tripping over my own guards.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t trip over them,” Freya said.
“Freya,” Astrid said.
“The castle is full of strangers. Anything could happen.”
“Has something brought on this overabundance of caution?” Astrid could be just as perceptive as Freya. “It’s not just the ambassador, is it?”
The box yowled at Freya. She set it on the floor, her mind working furiously. The last thing she wanted was to tell Astrid about Brenn’s prediction. Brenn had no new information to share about the specifics, even though she was checking in every day with the goddess. Freya was going to wear Astrid’s cloak thin with all the strings she pilfered.
“Of course not, Your Majesty,” said Freya. “I simply could not bear to lose you.”
Astrid’s eyes widened at the admission.
Stars. That was far too honest. “I meant, I take my role seriously.”
For a time, Astrid was quiet. “We should revisit the idea of you moving out of my apartments.”
“I would love to,” Freya lied, “only perhaps we can wait until the visitors for the history fair have left.”
Unhappily, Astrid sat on her bed.
Freya had to invent a good reason to stay in the queen’s rooms. The assertion of distance did not bode well for Astrid’s impending loss.
“Show me whatever new precaution you’ve come up with,” Astrid said, resigned.
Freya lifted the lid of the box. Out strolled the largest cat she’d ever seen. It was black with green-yellow eyes, and it was perfect. Promptly, it strutted over to Astrid and rubbed against her leg.
“What’s this?” Astrid asked.
“Fenrir,” said Freya. “He will alarm us first if something is amiss. I’ve been told by his previous owner that he is an excellent guard cat.”
“Freya, I have my orcs guarding me, and you. Why do I need a cat?” Regardless of her protest, Astrid bent to scratch Fenrir between the ears.
“He comes all the way from Olwen,” Freya said. “He used to guard their queen. She passed recently, and they had no use for him. Think of it as a charity case, if it helps, Your Majesty. He needs a home.”
“I suppose this is not my first stray,” Astrid said meaningfully.
