Once we finish our small meal, we continue through the market, fingers laced, as she takes me from shop to shop, getting the things she needs. I continue to pay for things but she's started to have her money ready before we even get to the counters hindering my opportunity to do so.

We pass a dress shop and I watch her reflection in the window as she stares at a particular dress within.

It's emerald green, with gold swirling along the hem and bodice, creating intricate designs. The bodice is corset styled with the lacing in the front. Matching elbow length, fingerless gloves complete the look.

"Do you like it?" I ask her.

"I could never afford it," she smiles softly, still looking at the dress.

"That's not what I asked," I chuckle.

She looks to me with a smile.

"Yes, I like it," she says gently.

"It would look stunning on you," I look back to he dress, "and it would be perfect for the gala."

"Oh I'm sure it would," she grins, "too bad I haven't yet given you an answer."

I chuckle.

Cheeky woman.

"Indeed," I grin back.

We continue on our way, finishing her shopping.

"To your home now?" I ask as she places the final item in her basket.

"Oh um," she hesitates, "actually, you should get back to the King, I can manager my way home."

She smiles to me but I can see the nervous worry in her eyes.

"Is something wrong, Love?" I stop in front of her.

"No it's just," she sighs looking down to her feet, "mother doesn't want me to spend my time with you. She doesn't like noblemen."

She looks up at me through her lashes, seeming to be trying to apologize with her eyes.

"It's alright, Love," I smile and kiss her forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will?"

"Of course," I chuckle, "I have to ask you to the gala."

She smiles brightly and my heart swells.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," she stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek before heading on her way home.

I touch my cheek, the feeling of her lips still there, and continue to smile as I look after her. I watch as she turns around to look at me again with a bright smile before turning back around and hurrying off, getting lost from my sight in the sea of people.

My smile widens as I turn to head to my castle.

I turn a corner, getting away from prying eyes and vanish to my quarters, my illusion falling away at the same moment.

"You seem happy."

I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn to mother.

"It's that girl, isn't it?" She grins.

"Yes," I heave a breath to calm my heart, "I haven't felt like this in a long time."

"Is she your number?"

"I can't be certain, she refused to let me see her number," I say as I look down at the zero on my arm, "but I don't care if she isn't. She's perfect. Kind, whity, talented. Even if she can't give me an heir," I look back up at her, "I want her."

She smiles at me as she steps closer, placing a hand on my cheek.

She was unsure of my conquering Midgard in the beginning, but once she saw how I helped them to prosper and thrive, she was happy and proud of the way I ruled. She is the only member of my family that still claims me and visits me often.

"Then you need to tell her the truth."

My heart drops.

She knows me as Thomas, not as me.
Not as Loki.

She praises my rule, but still thinks me capable of unspeakable actions.

Would she accept me?
Would she be angry?
Would she be afraid?
Would she hate me?

"I can see those wheels turning in that head of yours," mother brings my attention back to her, "it's your choice wether you tell her or not," she sighs, "but know that one's lies tend to catch up to them."

"I know, mother," I lean into her hand, closing my eyes, "I know."

"Good," her thumb caresses my cheek, "now why don't you tell me about her?"

~∆~

We talk for hours, long after the sun has set. We speak of Asgard and Thor's ruling, we speak of Midgard and of the new upsetting news I have discovered from my beloved, we speak of father and his withering age, and we speak of mother and her time spent in the gardens.

"You know," mother says after a small, comfortable silence, "I would much like to meet Lilith."

A smile blooms across my face.

"I'm sure she would love to meet you, but not just yet," I reply, "I want to take more time to get to know her more. Her mother isn't fond of the nobles, and her sister attends one of the special school houses I made. I want to know the reasons for these things. I want to know what she loves and what irks her and why she has been shamed her entire life."

"Very well," mother says as I take a breath to continue, "I will wait."

"Thank you," I sigh.

"You're welcome."

~∆~

I sit at the dining table with Tali and mother, eating the small meal I prepared.

"What took you so long in the market today?" Mother asks, breaking the silence.

"I was with a friend," it barely come out above a whisper.

"A friend?" She raises an accusatory brow at me.

"Yes, mother," my appetite is gone now and I just push the vegetables around on my plate.

"And what did you do with this friend that took so much time?" Her gaze bores into me.

"We spoke and walked slower," I lie. It feels odd to lie to mother, but I know telling her the truth would get me punished again.

She seems sated with the lie and stops asking questions as she goes back to eating.

The rest of the meal is silent. Once mother finished she gets up, leaving her dishes in the sink for me to clean.

"Here," I scrape the rest of my plate onto Tali's as I get up.

She smile up at me and signs a thank you before I walk to the kitchen and start cleaning all the dishes.

I roll my sleeves up and start the water. I scrub at the pots and pans I used for dinner, struggling a bit with certain spots.

My eyes glance down at my arm, sweeping over my number.

"I don't care, I want you and only you."

I smile slightly at the memory.

I couldn't care less who this stupid number belongs to, I want Thomas.

Thomas makes me happy, and whoever this murderer is could never do that.

I put away the pots and pans and clean all the counters and stove before I head down the hall to shower.

I strip and look at myself in the mirror.

I'm skinny, so much so that you can somewhat see my ribs through my too pale skin, my red hair flairs out wildly, my green eyes are much too large for my face, my lips aren't very full, my nose is small, my breasts aren't very big, I don't have very defined curves, I'm covered in scares of my own making, my hip bones protrude out, my backside isn't quite as round as I would like.

Why would anyone at me?
Especially Thomas.

He's perfect in every sense of the word.
Why would he want me?

I start the shower and allow it to warm slightly before I step in and rid by hair and body if the day's grime and dirt.

Tomorrow I will be able to do as I wish in the market, be as slow as I want, speak to who I want.

I wonder if Thomas truely will return tomorrow, only to ask me to the gala.

Should I say yes if he should ask?
Or should I tell him to ask the next day?

That would insure him to return again, unless he grows tired of my game, of me. Then he would leave for certain.

What would mother say if she discovered that I've been spending my time with him?
What would she do if she were to learn that I wish to go to the gala with him?

I think back to the night she slapped me.

Would she do worse?
Would she beat me?

I look to the number on my arm.

She doesn't want me to be with a murderer, nor does she wish me happy with a kind and gentle man.

What am I to do?
Be alone for the rest of my life?
Be miserable?

No.
I won't.

I will stay with Thomas, if he would have me. Noble man or not.

He could be dirt poor, covered in soot, begging for a coin on the side of the market place, and I will still choose him.

He is mine.

And I am irrefutably his.