They Don't Have to Know

By the end of the night, my feet were hurting and my head spun. Loki's face was imprinted on my mind. My family and I were staying at the palace for a few days so I decided to leave and go to my room. "You were thinking of me all night, how sweet." Hissed a low voice. I froze, it was Loki. How had he known?

I spun around. "And why would you think something as ridiculous as that, My Prince." I said sharply.

"Intuition." He said, smirking.

"You tapped into my thoughts, didn't you?" I cried out, "You were reading my mind! You have absolutely no right to do that! Whatever goes through my head that isn't vocalized is PERSONAL!"

"You have no right to speak to me like that, Sigyn." Loki said calmly.

I was beginning to lose my temper. "I can speak to you however I damn well want to!" I yelled. He walked over to me in two long strides and grabbed my wrist. I knew I took it too far. Before I knew it, I was pinned up against a wall.

"And you, will treat me with respect, as your prince you will obey that command." Loki snarled. I cowered beneath his icy glare. He let go of me. I began to storm off to my quarters.

"I BLOODY HATE YOU!" I screamed at Loki. The handsome prince whirled around and in nearly no time at all, he was no less than and inch away from me. I studied his features. His pale face was angular, distinguished, and sharp. His blue-green eyes were blazing, and his lips were pressed into a tight, thin, line. Loki was truly angry.

All of a sudden the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang about the empty hallway and I was on the ground, the side of my face burning and tingling in an icy flame. Loki hit me. That stupid, barbaric, monster hit me. I picked myself up and defiantly looked him in the face then sprinted to my room. I slammed the door behind me and buried my face in my pillow and allowed the free flowing tears to pour.

After a spell of sobbing from an unpleasant combination of pain and bitterness and anger, I stood up and walked over to the small bag I had hid along with me. I pulled out my dagger and walked over to the large wardrobe that sat against a wall in my room. I pulled it aside and then stared at the blank wall.

Smirking, I carved the Prince's face into the midnight blue coloured paint on the wall. Stepping back to admire my amazingly realistic handiwork, I chucked my knife at the beautiful carving I had made. I walked back over to the image and pulled my dagger out of the center, repeating the process over and over again late into the night.

After about four hours of my new favourite pastime, I heard someone stirring in the next room over. I quickly concealed my knife under my pillow and moved the wardrobe back into it's place. I jumped into the soft bed and feigned sleep as someone opened my door and peered into the room. I dared to barely crack open an eye and saw it was my mother. Apparently she heard the commotion I was causing. She quickly scanned her eyes around my room and left. After letting out a relieved breath, I let my body be overcome by troubled sleep.