Loki had been plagued with humanity in the few days since that look of devastation in Carter's eyes. It had infested him with wretched guilt and intense hatred of that dark side in him. Sleep evaded him, his furniture had been hurled at the wall and smashed to pieces, eyes sunken and drained of life. He hadn't known, he hadn't thought what his actions would cause her to feel or to see but that look. That look. It was if a thousand lives had crashed around him in the wake of her. He had underestimated her power and resolve.
He noticed his daughter, because how could he not? And that fucking necklace. "You should not have come," he said, leaning over the broken top of his table, the sceptre glowing menacingly.