Hela was quietly tidying up her bookshelf. It had been a few hours since she had woken from that dream—that nightmare.
The Valkyries had already returned, and the gods had gone back to their respective domains.
Aphrodite was keeping her promises.
Freya had taken Skuld to Yggdrasil; they wanted to try to reverse the swaps Skuld had made in exchange for the information she had obtained.
At that moment, the house was silent and still. There was no one arguing or chatting.
There was no familiar sound of Ina playing with Garm.
Everything was quiet.
Merlin had created a massive mess in Hela's life—in everyone's lives.
Hela had always been bothered by the gods' fondness for illusions; it was truly easier to deal with gods like Ares, who preferred to settle everything with a good fight.
Illusions were simple manipulations; any god could create a micro-universe where only their will mattered.
The gods' schemes always involved illusions; it was always easier to manipulate the truth.
