[PoV Yata]
The warm flicker of candlelight filled the grand hall, reflecting off the towering stone pillars and polished marble floors adorned with thick red carpets. The ceiling was adorned with magnificent crystal chandeliers, adding a touch of dazzling opulence to the scene.
I stood in one of the hall's corners, dressed in formal attire prepared by a maid at Linnie's request—a black robe embroidered with gold threads and adorned with golden buttons.
Letting out a deep sigh, I swept my gaze across the room. In the center of the hall, guests from all over the world indulged in fine cuisine and lively conversations.
Even outside, I could hear the distant hum of celebration. I had heard that a separate feast was being held beyond the palace walls for the people of Utgard, which explained the equal liveliness outside.
Among the crowd, a familiar figure caught my eye—Linnie. She stood near a large window, dressed in a flowing sky-blue gown that cascaded to the floor. Her shoulder-length red hair was left loose, adorned with a snowflake-shaped hairpin. She looked truly enchanting and regal, like a princess from the ancient fairy tales of my past life.
I walked toward her. "Linnie."
She turned, her smile blooming. "Yata! You're here."
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I shrugged. "You look… really beautiful tonight."
A faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and she averted her gaze, flustered. "Thank you. You look different tonight as well. That outfit... it suits you."
I offered a small smile, feeling slightly more awkward than before.
Linnie let out a soft laugh, breaking the tension. "Father wants to talk to you. He's near the main table."
I nodded, thanking her before making my way toward Loki.
Loki stood casually by the grand banquet table, brimming with luxurious dishes. As always, his attire was flamboyant—an elegant blue-and-gold robe that radiated extravagance. When I approached, he turned, his signature smirk already in place.
"Ah, Yata," he greeted, raising his wine glass. "I thought you wouldn't come."
"How could I not? Though, I must admit, events like these aren't exactly my scene."
"Yes, because you're a bird." Loki took another glass of wine and downed it in one swift gulp. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Hm? Shouldn't I be asking that? It was your daughter who told me to come here because you wanted to speak with me, Master."
Loki chuckled. "You're right. To be honest, I just wanted to see you. Though I don't actually have a topic in mind."
"I see," I muttered, stroking my chin. "Well then, may I ask about Anitra?"
Loki scoffed and shrugged. "Of all the things you could ask, you chose to ask about that girl? In a situation like this? Are you serious?"
"Am I not allowed to?"
"No, no, no." Loki shook his head. "I didn't say you couldn't ask. I'm just a little surprised you'd bring that up at a time like this."
"So… what have you gotten from her? Any useful information?"
His smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a blank expression. "Unfortunately, nothing. She's incredibly stubborn. No matter what methods we've tried, she refuses to speak."
"No clues at all?"
Loki shook his head, his gaze darkening slightly. "If only there were a magic spell that allowed us to see people's memories, this would be much easier."
I let out a long sigh, disappointed. "I see."
"Well, I have other guests to attend to tonight."
"Alright then. Good luck."
With that, Loki walked away, disappearing into the bustling crowd of the palace.
Having nothing else to do at the moment, I decided to leave the area and look for Fenrir.
"Now, where could that gluttonous girl be?" I scanned the hall, contemplating. "Knowing her, she's probably somewhere near the food."
With that in mind, I began circling the banquet tables, searching for her.
And there she was—seated at one of the long dining tables, surrounded by an array of dishes stacked high with food.
She wore a shimmering silver gown that hugged her slender frame, accentuating her curves. She would have looked absolutely elegant—if not for the sheer ferocity with which she was eating.
With a satisfied grin, she devoured her meal at a terrifying pace. Every piece of food was shoveled into her mouth without hesitation, completely unbothered by the disapproving stares from the other guests. It was as if this feast had been arranged solely to satisfy her insatiable appetite.
I approached her, taking a seat across from her. "Enjoying yourself?" I asked, barely suppressing a chuckle.
"Yes!" she replied without hesitation, her mouth still full. "The food is amazing!"
I simply nodded, offering a small smile as I watched her demolish the dishes before her. The other guests might have found her behavior crude, but to me, seeing her eat so enthusiastically was rather amusing.
Minutes passed.
The atmosphere shifted when the music changed to a slower, more melodic tune—the signal that the dance portion of the evening had begun. Couples gathered in the center of the hall, gracefully swaying to the rhythm.
I glanced at Fenrir before standing and extending my hand. "Fenrir, would you care to dance with me?"
She raised an eyebrow, momentarily halting her feast. "What? No. I can't dance."
"I can guide you," I said, offering a reassuring smile.
She scoffed, eyeing me suspiciously. But after a moment, she let out a long sigh and took my hand. "Fine. But don't regret this."
We walked to the dance floor. I placed one hand on her back while her other hand hesitantly held mine.
"Just follow my lead," I whispered, starting with slow, careful steps.
She moved awkwardly at first, the heels of her shoes clearly making things more difficult. More than once, she stepped on my foot, making me wince.
"This is stupid," she grumbled.
"It's fine," I chuckled. "Just follow the rhythm."
Gradually, she improved. Her grip loosened, and her steps became more fluid.
I guided her into a small spin, my hand pressing gently on her back to direct her movements. She followed, hesitating at first, but soon found her own rhythm.
Her silver gown fluttered as she turned, catching the warm glow of the chandeliers. Her wolf ears twitched slightly to the music, and her golden eyes held a softness that was rarely seen.
"Are you smiling?" I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.
She scoffed, her cheeks tinged pink. "Don't be stupid. I'm just… trying not to step on your foot."
I chuckled but chose not to push further. Teasing her like this somehow made me feel closer to her.
We continued to move, our steps growing more harmonious. The music shifted, slowing into a more romantic melody, as if urging the entire hall to pause and take in the moment.
Fenrir's once-tense hands softened in mine. Now, her grasp felt more natural, more comfortable.
I spun her once more, her long purple hair shimmering under the flickering candlelight. A small smile finally graced her lips.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. The music, the grand hall, the people around us—all of it faded into the background. There was only me, Fenrir, and the rhythm of our steps.
Our eyes met. Slowly, the space between us lessened. My heartbeat grew erratic. Yet, strangely, I found myself relishing this closeness.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion rocked the hall. The floor trembled, chandeliers swayed, and screams of panic filled the air.
"What's happening?"
"An explosion? Who—?"
Chaos erupted as the guests cried out in fear.
Beside me, Fenrir immediately pulled away, her ears and tail standing rigid. Her once-soft gaze hardened, her jaw clenching to reveal sharp fangs.
"Grrr… This scent…"
Her reaction alone told me this was bad.
And then, as if to confirm my worst fears, a soldier's frantic shout rang through the air—
"The Asgardians are attacking!"