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There was a picturesque fantasy of what it meant to be a princess, one repeated often in both fairy tales and the dreams of young girls.
Laegjarn knew all of this first hand, for despite being a princess herself she dreamed of that utopian life of luxury as well.
That however, never had been her reality, and it never would be.
Every aspect of her life was dictated by her father Surtr, and that… well, Laegjarn was simply powerless to stand up against him.
She sighed as she leaned back against a balcony railing, enjoying the frigid night air as she swirled her dark wine in its glass.
Oh, how she had always dreamed of attending a ball such as this, though never like this.
Even in this moment where one of her childhood dreams had been fulfilled, Laegjarn was still enveloped by her father’s shadow.
She was keenly aware of the vial of poison hidden beneath her dress, the glass cold against her skin, and with it she was constantly reminded of her reason for being here.
Hríd… the first son of the Nifl royal family, as well as the biggest threat to Surtr’s ambition.
Laegjarn brought her glass up to her lips as she watched Hrid chat with his sister Fjorm, trying not to look at their smiling faces as she built up the nerve required to do what had to be done.
This was for Laevatein, this was all to protect her from Surtr, all Laegjarn had to do was keep telling her that and-
“Is everything alright?” A soft voice asked, smooth like silk as the words flowed together, causing Laegjarn to jump.
She quickly glanced to her side, tensing slightly at the sight of Princess Gunnthrá.
She was beautiful in her long flowing dress, so much so that Laegjarn’s eyes began to inadvertently wander, but most of all there was a growing horror deep within her that she had been found out.
“It is, Princess Gunnthrá.” She coughed, trying desperately to not have her words come across as sounding stilted. “I was just… thinking.”
“I see. I’m sorry if I started you.” Gunnthrá murmured, seeming not only to be genuinely apologetic but also genuinely concerned.
“It’s fine, really.” Laegjarn soothed, instinctually trying to smooth things over as Gunnthrá stepped closer.
“Needed some fresh air?” She asked, to which Laegjarn nodded. “I’ll confess that I felt a similar itch, a desire to escape from all that noise.”
“Is that why you came out here?” Laegjarn asked, surprising herself.
What… was she doing? What was she hoping to hear?
Why would that even matter?!
“No, though I’ll admit it played a factor. I actually wanted to speak with you, and maybe offer you a dance.” Gunnthrá said softly, a warm smile on her face.
There was genuine warmth in her kind eyes, but also glimmers of something else, an intelligence that made Laegjarn just a bit uneasy.
“I see.” She said simply, more than a bit flustered.
Gunnthrá had been beautiful from the moment Laegjarn had first laid eyes on her, but like this, standing out here in the moonlight?
She looked ethereal, almost divine.
“Is the wine to your liking, Princess Laegjarn.” Gunnthrá suddenly asked, and Laegjarn’s unease returned in force.
“It is.” She murmured, feeling as though she were walking into a trap as Gunnthrá stepped closer still.
“Not many grapes bloom here in Nifl, but those that do…” She whispered, taking Laegjarn’s glass from her hand. “Well, their flavor is like little you can find anywhere else.”
She brought it up to her full lips, and Laegjarn’s heart skipped a beat as she took a small sip.
Laegjarn parted her lips, unsure of what exactly she had been trying to say as no words exited her mouth.
What… was happening?
Was Gunnthrá… coming on to her?
Suddenly Laegjarn’s entire face was aflame as her heart raced, her eyes falling a bit lower to briefly ogle Gunnthrá’s chest.
“May I confess something else, Princess Laegjarn?” Gunnthrá asked, handing her back her glass.
“You may.” Laegjarn exhaled shakily, setting her glass down on the railing.
“I believe to have been seeing you in my dreams as of late, perhaps… because I knew you would be here tonight. My gift of foresight, it seemed quite convinced you would join me for a waltz.” Gunnthrá said smoothly, offering Laegjarn her hand.
She smiled as Laegjarn took it, interlocking their fingers before leading her back into the hall.
Laegjarn followed behind her, thoughts of her mission fading away alongside her unease as Gunnthrá’s other hand landed on her hip and the two began to dance.
As those burdens slipped away, so too did her questions, and for one blissful night she allowed herself to act out the fantasies of her youth.
Come the morning though, she wouldn’t be able to help but wonder just how much Gunnthrá had actually seen, as well as how much she knew.