Chapter 729

Grand Master of Ceremonies.

Evenson wasn’t sure how prestigious the title was, but if a few cases of instant noodles could buy him a government position, he was getting an excellent deal. If Asgard started selling its offices at those prices, the royal treasury would be bankrupt within a week.

Still, he didn’t accept Hela’s offer.

It wasn’t that he objected to serving a goddess. The problem was the title itself. Something about the words Grand Master of Ceremonies made him instinctively uncomfortable. The phrase First Chosen wasn’t much better.

Whatever the local customs of Asgard might be, the combination of those titles gave him an inexplicable chill.

"What’s wrong?" Hela asked when he remained silent. "You don’t want to accept my generosity?"

Her expression darkened.

Once, she’d been the second-most powerful figure in Asgard. Now, after centuries of imprisonment, she was little more than a ghost haunting the ruins of her former life.

The contrast had left its mark on her. Beneath the cold, imperious exterior, Hela was surprisingly sensitive to how others perceived her. She wanted recognition. She wanted respect.

And now, having generously offered Evenson the positions of First Chosen and Grand Master of Ceremonies, she’d expected him to be overwhelmed with gratitude.

Instead, he stood there hesitating.

To Hela, it felt suspiciously like an insult.

Evenson recognized the danger.

Flatly rejecting her offer would be equivalent to slapping her in the face, and he’d only just finished fighting for his life. He had no desire to repeat the experience.

So he chose his words carefully.

"Your divine grace has shown me an extraordinary amount of favor. I’m deeply grateful, and I would gladly do everything in my power to repay your kindness..."

"Hmm." Hela gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Just get to the part after the but."

"You’re too perceptive, Your Grace."

Evenson put on an apologetic expression.

"It’s just that once we get out of here, I’m not sure Asgard will still exist."

Hela’s eyes widened slightly.

"Asgard is in trouble again? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Given my father’s style of government, it would be stranger if something didn’t go wrong. He’s always been too fond of appearances."

"Exactly!" Evenson said, seizing the opportunity to establish some common ground. "There are definitely things about Asgard that aren’t quite what they seem. Take your palace, for example. It’s called the Golden Palace, but the thing isn’t actually made of gold."

"It is made of gold."

Hela crossed one leg over the other, looking thoroughly amused by his confusion.

"There’s plenty of fakery in Asgard, I’ll grant you that. But the palace really is gold. I can personally vouch for it. We simply found the original surface too dazzling, so someone painted over it."

Evenson stared at her.

"...What?"

He looked as though he’d just discovered that gravity was optional.

"How thick is that paint? I spent nearly half an hour scraping a wall the other day, and all I got was plaster dust. Not a speck of gold!"

Hela’s mouth twitched.

She covered her face with one hand and turned away, suddenly wondering whether appointing Evenson her First Chosen had been a terrible mistake.

She’d made the decision on impulse. Clearly, she needed to be more careful in the future. No more reckless appointments. No more letting a momentary whim dictate her judgment.

Still...

She lowered her hand slightly and peered at him through her fingers.

This fellow is certainly worldly. A little too interested in practical benefits, perhaps, but his observations are sharp, and he knows how to conduct himself. If I offer him sufficient rank and wealth, he’ll probably prove quite useful.

Hela dropped her hand and changed the subject.

"Enough about the palace. What exactly has happened in Asgard? What sort of disaster could threaten the kingdom’s very existence?"

She adjusted her posture, adopting the dignified bearing of a monarch who might be far from home but still concerned with her realm.

After all, she already considered Asgard her rightful possession. She was its legitimate queen, whether Odin acknowledged it or not.

But what was a queen without a kingdom?

A queen of nothing was a rather ridiculous title.

"Well, a few days ago, Malekith, the Dark Elf King, led an invasion of Asgard."

"Dark Elves?"

Hela interrupted him.

"Weren’t they extinct?"

"Apparently not."

Evenson shrugged.

"Whatever history says, they’re very much alive."

"Hmph. It seems falsifying history runs in the family." Hela snorted. "Especially among the men. A fine tradition, passed down through generations."

She was clearly thinking of her grandfather’s tendency to exaggerate his military achievements.

"Go on."

Evenson proceeded to recount the recent events in considerable detail.

He explained how he’d discovered the murals in the palace, how he’d killed witnesses to conceal what he’d found, and how Odin had dealt with the Einherjar who’d seen the same evidence.

He left nothing out.

Throughout most of the account, Hela listened with an indifferent expression. A faint, cold smile occasionally touched her lips.

Then Evenson mentioned Malekith’s poisoned dagger.

And how it had wounded Frigga.

Hela’s composure shattered.

She seized Evenson’s hand.

"How badly was Mother hurt?"

The question came out so urgently that, for a moment, she seemed to have forgotten everything else.

Then she realized what she’d done and released him abruptly.

Her expression hardened again.

"Frigga... didn’t die, did she?"

Evenson watched her carefully.

"The poison on the dagger was called Yelchin—"

Crack!

The sound came from beside Hela.

She’d crushed the stone armrest beneath her hand.

The muscles in her face twitched, but she stubbornly maintained her cold expression.

"At the time, Odin was helpless to treat her. He even considered ending her life early to spare her further suffering."

Hela’s body stiffened.

Despite her efforts to remain composed, she trembled.

Evenson smiled faintly.

"Fortunately, I happened to be there. I have a rather unusual method of dealing with poison. After I treated the Queen, she recovered from the immediate danger and is doing very well now."

The effect was immediate.

Hela seemed to deflate slightly. Her breathing grew heavier, and some of the tension left her shoulders.

"Is that so?"

She looked away.

"Frigga survived. Good. You did well."

She paused, then added in a much colder voice, "I’d almost thought I’d lost my chance to punish her myself."

Evenson nearly laughed.

Right. That’s definitely what you were worried about.

Her reaction a moment earlier had told an entirely different story.

Hela seemed to realize she’d revealed too much, so she hurried to explain why she supposedly wanted Frigga alive.

"Do you know what Frigga did when my father decided to imprison me?"

Evenson shook his head.

"Nothing," Hela said bitterly. "She stood there and watched. She never said a word in my defense. Not once."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the stone.

"When I return to Asgard, I’ll drive her out. I’ll banish her from the kingdom. I’ll watch her leave, and I won’t lift a finger to stop it. Believe me, I won’t show her the slightest mercy."

"You can’t blame the Queen for refusing to intervene," Sigrun said sharply.

The Valkyrie had remained quiet until now, but her patience had limits.

"You’re not even her biological daughter. After everything you’ve done, why should she plead for you?"

Sigrun had no intention of fighting Hela again, but that didn’t mean she’d forgiven her. Hela had killed every one of her sisters, along with Sigrun herself.

There was little reason to expect warm feelings between them.

Hela slowly turned toward her.

"I’m not Frigga’s biological daughter?"

Her voice rose.

"You actually believe that nonsense?"

She struck the stone beside her in mounting fury.

"My father really is a master of deception!"

Sigrun stared at her.

"You... wait. You mean... the Queen gave birth to you?"

"Of course she did!"

Hela sounded thoroughly exasperated.

"It was all part of my father’s scheme. He told everyone I wasn’t Frigga’s daughter so he could classify me as an illegitimate child instead of a legitimate heir. That gave him an excuse to strip me of my place in the succession!"

Evenson blinked.

That was certainly a revelation.

But another question immediately occurred to him.

"Then what about your hair?"

Of the children he’d seen associated with Odin and Frigga, the only one he’d personally encountered was Thor, who had blond hair.

Hela, meanwhile, had a head full of black hair.

Hela looked at him as though he’d just demonstrated an astonishing lack of basic knowledge.

"What about it? Hair color among Asgardians doesn’t necessarily follow the parents’. It’s usually determined by the kind of power a person inherits."

She gave him a pointed look.

"Look at that little runt Loki. He’s got black hair too."

Evenson rubbed his forehead.

"I’m not sure that’s the strongest example you could’ve chosen. You do realize Loki is adopted, right? He’s a Frost Giant."

"Oh, adopted. Yes, adopted..."

Hela gave him a look of weary disbelief.

"You’ve already seen my father’s true nature. You know how many people he’s killed and how ruthless he can be. And yet you’re willing to believe that he found a helpless infant abandoned in the wilderness, felt a sudden pang of compassion, and decided to adopt the child of an enemy?"

Evenson stroked his chin.

Now that she mentioned it, the story did sound suspicious.

Before learning the truth about Odin’s past, he’d accepted the tale of Loki’s adoption without much thought. But viewed in the light of everything else, the story raised uncomfortable questions.

Odin wasn’t a soft-hearted ruler prone to impulsive acts of mercy. He’d committed atrocities on a grand scale, including the destruction of entire peoples.

Why would he suddenly spare the infant son of a sworn enemy?

If Odin considered killing a baby beneath his dignity, he could simply have abandoned Loki in the wilderness. If he’d genuinely wanted the child to survive, he could have brought him to Asgard and placed him with a common family or one of his trusted nobles.

There was no need to adopt the child personally.

And if his intention had been to raise Loki alongside Thor as a future political asset, there were simpler ways to achieve that, too. Loki could have been made Thor’s companion, attendant, or bodyguard.

Such an arrangement would have reinforced the hierarchy between them, encouraging Loki to obey Thor and discouraging any ambitions of his own.

Instead, Odin had formally adopted Loki and publicly granted him the title of prince.

Why?

Evenson’s thoughts began to race.

A particularly outrageous possibility took shape in his mind.

Then he shook his head.

"No. No, that can’t be right. Loki really is a Frost Giant. I’m certain of that."

Hela watched him with open amusement.

This one really does have a good head on his shoulders. He’s already figured out so much about Father’s plans for Thor and Loki.

He was tantalizingly close to the truth.

Of course, there were still things he couldn’t know. It was hardly his fault that he’d dismissed the final possibility himself.

Hela smiled mysteriously.

"Why not trust your first instinct? Loki having Frost Giant blood and Loki being my father’s son aren’t mutually exclusive."

She tilted her head.

"And have you ever wondered why Loki is so small for a Frost Giant?"

Evenson’s eyes widened.

His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally managed to speak.

"...Holy crap."

As Hela had pointed out, there was no contradiction.

Loki could have Frost Giant blood without both of his parents being Frost Giants. His mother could have been a Frost Giant while his father was an Asgardian.

And if his father were Odin...

Evenson tugged at his collar. The implications were making him feel strangely warm.

"So Loki is the son of Odin and a female Frost Giant..."

He paused, working through the next piece.

"And everyone believed he was the son of Laufey, the Frost Giant King. Which means the woman in question was probably Laufey’s wife. The Frost Giant Queen."

Hela nodded, wearing a satisfied smile.

Evenson stared at her.

"Well, I’ll be damned. I knew your father wasn’t nearly as noble as he pretended to be, but this is something else."

The implications were staggering.

No wonder the Frost Giants had maintained such bitter hostility toward Asgard. Odin had not only defeated their king and brought their realm to the brink of destruction. He’d also slept with Laufey’s wife and fathered a child with her.

And then Laufey had been forced to accept the child as his own and raise him.

That was the sort of humiliation that could drive anyone to madness, never mind a king.

It also explained why Laufey had abandoned Loki during the retreat. The usual explanation was that he’d been forced to withdraw too quickly to take the infant with him.

Perhaps there was some truth to that.

But if Laufey had been given enough time, Evenson suspected he might have found a much more permanent way to dispose of the child.

The whole affair was a political catastrophe wrapped in an extraordinarily ugly family scandal.

"Good grief," Evenson muttered. "The royal families of the Nine Realms really know how to make a mess of things."

He shook his head, then considered the broader implications.

"But I have to admit, the strategy is clever. Odin didn’t just want Loki to become a ruler friendly to Asgard. He wanted the Frost Giant throne to remain under his bloodline for generations."

Hela nodded for him to continue.

Evenson was already piecing the rest together.

"Loki was raised as an Asgardian. His tastes, loyalties, and sense of identity would naturally develop around Asgardian culture. If he eventually married and took a queen, he’d most likely choose an Asgardian woman."

He raised a finger.

"Then their children would have even more Asgardian blood. If the pattern continued over several generations, the Frost Giant ancestry would gradually become diluted while the Asgardian bloodline grew more prominent."

His expression turned thoughtful.

"Eventually, their descendants might become almost indistinguishable from Asgardians."

He leaned back, impressed despite himself.

"And people tend to imitate their rulers. If the Frost Giant royal family began favoring marriages with Asgardians, the nobility might follow suit. After a few generations, pure-blooded Frost Giants could become a thing of the past, their entire civilization assimilated into Asgard."

Evenson nodded slowly.

"Conquer a kingdom without marching an army across its borders. That’s an impressive piece of work, All-Father."

"Impressive my foot!"

Hela spat the words out with contempt.

"That might be a decent strategy for short-lived races, but do you have any idea how long Frost Giants live? Generations? Do you think I’m going to sit around waiting that long?"

She folded her arms and snorted.

"Give me enough time, and I could conquer the Frost Giant kingdom several times over!"