On the bridge of Asgard Palace, Thor strode ahead with a spring in his step, practically walking on air. Loki followed behind with a helpless expression, quickened her pace to catch up with her brother, and said, "Listen, Thor! You can't go tell Frigga and Odin. There's no basis for this at all—it's just a misunderstanding!"
"Doctor Schiller is pursuing you!" Thor stopped, raised his voice, and looked at Loki with shining eyes. "I told you long ago that you were wrong about yourself. That was all self-pity. The finest human on Earth admires your beauty. Why can't you be a little more confident?"
"He only painted a picture." Loki hurried in front of Thor, faced him, and walked backward as she spoke. "That proves absolutely nothing. Maybe he painted other people too; those paintings just weren't there."
"Then why was only your portrait displayed in his bedroom?"
"Maybe it was just a coincidence." Loki frowned. "Perhaps he happened to leave his painting supplies in the bedroom that day and didn't take the sketchbook away. It was just a very simple accident. Could you stop broadcasting this to the whole world?"
"Loki, why do I sometimes think you're incredibly clever, but other times think you're terribly dull?" Thor walked forward with his arms folded. "A man paints you and keeps your portrait in his bedroom. What else could that possibly mean?"
"But he never said anything to me. He doesn't want to..."
"Then that's his problem, not yours." Thor stopped and put his hands on his hips as he looked at Loki. "That's why I'm going to tell Odin and Frigga. Frigga's ancient matchmaking plan makes it sound like you're some poor little thing nobody loves, like we have to find enough contestants before we can marry you off. But