"And has it been managed?" Odin challenges. A muscle in his jaw tightens as he leans forward slightly. Classic dominance posture, but with the restrained precision of someone who knows exactly how intimidating he can be without trying. "The reports I hear suggest otherwise. GUIDE hunts magickal beings with increasing efficiency. The Enclave grows more corrupt and power-hungry with each passing year."
His single eye fixes on Nimue with unnerving intensity, and I find myself grateful not to be on the receiving end of that stare. "Earth's magick remains tainted, consequences of the evil queen's actions."
"Which is precisely why reopening the connection is necessary," Nimue counters, her voice rising slightly—the first real crack in her perfect composure. Her hands open in a gesture that might seem beseeching if not for the slight tremor of suppressed emotion. "How can Earth heal if it remains cut off from Yggdrasil? The other realms flourish while Earth withers."
Behind her carefully controlled argument, I catch the fervor of a true believer. Not just political posturing, she actually believes what she's saying. In my experience, that makes her more dangerous, not less.
"What you propose," Frigga says, her eyes soft with wisdom yet unyielding as diamonds, "would expose all realms to Earth's corruption before we understand how to cleanse it. The consequences could be devastating."
I want to ask about the consequences, but I don’t dare interrupt the two queens. I can ask Fen later.
"More devastating than leaving Earth to destroy itself?" Nimue challenges. "Your own grandson nearly died trying to find his mate there. How many more will we lose before you all see reason?"
"You throw words around like reason, but you do not answer my wife’s question," Odin rumbles. "You’re operating on pure emotion, Nimue. Earth is a bigger problem, not something you can just fix by opening a door. The planet is not completely cut off and never has been. Your people can still reach it, as can the Valkyrie."
I find myself leaning forward, absorbing every word of this exchange like I'm back in tactical training. My brain catalogs each revelation, each implication, filing them away for future reference.
Earth isn't the only world. The concept still sends a jolt through me, like someone rearranging the furniture in my mind. I've spent my entire life believing I knew the boundaries of reality, only to discover I've been living in just one room of an enormous house.
I glance between the three royals, reading the centuries of disagreement in their postures. This isn't just politics. It's fundamentally different worldviews colliding across a dinner table.
Nimue turns to me suddenly. "What do you think, Astrid Mathieson? You're from Earth. Do you believe your world should remain forever cut off from the other realms?"
All eyes turn to me, and my pulse quickens with the familiar surge of being unexpectedly called into a superior's office. I carefully set down my fork, buying myself precious seconds while my GUIDE training kicks in. Deep breath. Neutral expression. Speak from facts, not speculation.
"I think," I say slowly, choosing each word with the care of someone navigating a minefield, "that I don't have enough information to offer a meaningful opinion. Until a week ago, I didn't even know other realms or planets existed. I hunted magickal creatures because I thought they were all dangerous monsters."
I meet Nimue's gaze steadily, watching her eyes narrow slightly at my admission. The tension in the room thickens. I've just confessed to being what magickal beings would consider a murderer, but I keep pressing forward. "Perhaps before debating whether to open doors," I continue, "we should consider who gets trampled when they swing."
A week ago, I would have been on the other side of that door with a weapon drawn. Now I'm sitting at a table with beings I once would have tried to capture or kill. The irony isn't lost on me, but I refuse to flinch from my past. It's what gives me perspective neither side of this ancient argument seems to have.
A moment of silence follows my statement, heavy as a fully loaded tactical vest. I hold Nimue's gaze, refusing to look away first. A silent contest of wills. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I brace for rebuke or outrage.
Then Odin speaks, his voice breaking the tension like thunder after lightning.
"Well said, granddaughter."
Granddaughter. My breath catches, and for a moment, I'm struck completely speechless. Odin the All-Father—a literal god from mythology—just called me his granddaughter. Heat rises unexpectedly behind my eyes, and I blink rapidly against the sudden emotion. My wolf stirs within me, not with aggression but with a warm sense of belonging.
I turn to meet Odin's gaze and see acceptance, perhaps even pride and that makes my throat tighten. I manage a small nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. In that single word, he's offered me something I didn't realize I was missing… a place in this new world, not just as Fen's mate, but as part of a family. His family.
"You surprise me, Astrid. Most humans would leap at the chance to access the magick and wonders of the other realms."
"Most humans haven't seen what I've seen," I reply evenly.
"Which brings us back to why you're really here, Nimue," Odin says, his tone making it clear he's tired of diplomatic circling. "You feared Astrid had died, ending the quest to find all the Knights' mates and restore their soul shards. A quest you believe will eventually sway the royalty in all realms to your position now that the Council has lost its power."
"I came because I heard disturbing news about a chimera attack and wanted to verify the outcome for myself. Is that so difficult to understand? We share common goals, even if we disagree on what follows."
"Do we?" Odin leans forward, his single blue eye suddenly glowing bright gold. "Or do you seek to manipulate events to serve the siren’s interests alone?"
Before I can process this sudden emotional ambush, the air in the room shifts, becoming heavy with power. My hand twitches toward my hip instinctively. But I’m reaching for a sidearm that isn't there. Old habits.
The hair on my arms stand on end as Odin continues to stare at Nimue, his eye burning brighter. His canines elongate and a growl rolls from his chest.
Nimue doesn't back down. Instead, she meets his gaze directly, her own eyes shifting to a luminous silver, her posture remaining perfectly poised even as her teeth visibly lengthen and sharpen in response.
Beside Odin, Frigga's eyes flash the same amber-gold, though she maintains her serene composure.
