Brunhilde visibly grinned at Baldr's description of Eva's intentions, then stepped to the side so the prince could stand and converse. "You don't like seeing your kin and kingdom irreparably drunk? Not a big fan of comparing battle scars? Picking food out of your neighbor's beard at the table?" She could've gone on. And on. And on. But Baldr was familiar, it seemed, with the basics of these festivals. Plus, they'd just thrown a similar party the week before. She smiled absently with a twinge of anxiety and mania in her eyes, then shook the recollections back and refocused on her company. "I can assure that you are the very first to make mention of my feet," the Valkyrie gave a belly laugh and then nudged the prince with her elbow after she sidled up closer to him.
"Freyr," she whispered, her keen eyes keeping tethered to the king's face as his Midgardian offspring came a-calling. "What do you make of her? Have you spoken? Petr says she's quiet, a bit sarcastic..." Two traits that Freyr did not possess. The redhaired king said what he wanted and what he meant. "Speaking of lost family..." her dark eyes briefly flicked toward Loki. "How are things coming along with the Odinsons? King Thor keeping the peace?"