Free Web NovelChapter 116: Chapter 116
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Hairan had always been the sharpest thorn in his side.
"As opposed to your usual company of prostitutes and drunks?" Ragnar said coolly.
Hairan’s grin widened into something darker and predatory.
"Ah, that reminds me," he drawled. "I heard about what happened to your wife. She almost drowned, didn’t she?"
He clicked his tongue mockingly, eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Such a horrible thing. She must have been traumatized. Perhaps if you spent less time at these lavish gatherings and more time teaching her how to swim, we could prevent another unfortunate incident."
The words struck Ragnar like a hammer. For a moment, everything else fell away— the rustle of leaves, the chirping of distant crickets, the muffled sounds of music from the ballroom. All he could hear was the dull, furious ringing in his ears.
Something inside him snapped clean off. freёwebnovel.com
Hairan turned as if to leave, smug satisfaction radiating from every step. But Ragnar couldn’t let it end there. Not this time. Not after everything his brother had just implied, not after decades of unspoken hatred and festering resentment.
"What did you just say?" Ragnar’s voice was low, almost calm. It was a dangerous calm that came before the storm. He didn’t ask because he hadn’t heard; he asked because he wanted Hairan to repeat it. Daring him to say it again and see what happened next.
Hairan paused mid-step. Without turning, he said, "I said you’d better teach your wife how to swim properly or next time, she might not be so lucky."
Rage obliterated the last of Ragnar’s restraint. His vision blurred.
He didn’t even feel the movement, only the impact as he lunged, his fist connecting with Hairan’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward before Ragnar tackled him hard to the ground.
The two brothers crashed into the dirt, grappling violently, trading vicious blows that echoed through the courtyard.
Ragnar’s once-pristine attire was now rumpled and smeared with dust, blood streaking the corner of his mouth. The force of his fury was unrelenting, years of bitterness pouring out through every strike.
"That’s odd," Hairan gasped through gritted teeth, trying to shield himself as Ragnar bore down on him. "You weren’t this angry when Luria died."
Ragnar’s eyes turned pitch black as his fury sharpened into something primal. He seized Hairan by the throat and slammed his head hard against the ground, finally pinning him beneath his weight.
"You have no right to speak her name," Ragnar snarled, pulling the knife free from his belt. The blade caught the moonlight, gleaming cold and deadly as he pressed it close to Hairan’s face.
Hairan’s lips peeled back in a deranged grin, fangs flashing. Madness burned in his eyes. "Do it," he hissed. "Do it, so they can finally put you down like the rabid dog you are."
Ragnar’s hand trembled, not with hesitation, but with the sheer effort it took to restrain himself.
Then, before he could bring the knife down, someone wrenched it sharply from his grasp. Strong hands pulled him back, dragging him off his brother. He struggled against the hold, still half-blind with fury, until his gaze snapped upward, meeting Falein’s furious, commanding eyes
Behind him, another man had restrained Hairan, holding him down as he thrashed and spat curses.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Ragnar’s chest heaved with labored breaths, his pulse still thunderous in his ears.
The night around them seemed to hold its breath, the earlier music and laughter from the ballroom now distant, almost unreal.
Falein’s grip on his arm was firm but not cruel. His face, however, was carved with disappointment and something like disbelief.
"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed quietly, his voice low enough that only Ragnar could hear.
Ragnar’s jaw tightened. " It’s not what you think." He tried to argue. Lord Tomar just arrived and would not have fully understood what happened.
"Then what is it? Because I saw enough to know you almost made a terrible mistake." Falein’s gaze flicked toward Hairan, who was wiping blood from his mouth and laughing under his breath, a dark, mocking sound. "That’s exactly what he wanted, Ragnar. For you to lose control in front of witnesses. You just gave him what he came for."
Ragnar followed his gaze to the open archway leading into the garden path. A few guests stood there, wide-eyed, murmuring among themselves. The whispers were already spreading, he could see it in their shifting glances, the way they avoided his eyes.
Before morning, everyone in the entire capital would have known about their altercation. Gossip spread fast among the nobles.
He looked back down at his bloodied hands, at the dirt smeared on the fine threads of his sleeves, and a heavy sense of clarity sank in. He had played right into Hairan’s hands.
"Take him inside," Falein ordered the guards. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
As the men obeyed, Ragnar cast one last look at his brother.
Hairan’s expression was a perfect picture of smug satisfaction, despite the blood trickling down his jaw. He mouthed something silent, a taunting look in his eyes before the guards led him away.
Ragnar didn’t need to read his lips to know what it was. He had seen that look too many times before.
You’ll never win.
Falein placed a firm hand on Ragnar’s shoulder, steering him away from the gathered spectators. The once clean night air was now thick and clawing, making it almost difficult to breathe.
Ragnar said nothing as they walked. He didn’t trust his voice not to betray the storm inside him.
" Do you understand what would have happened if I didn’t intervene?" Falein asked after a long silence.
Ragnar didn’t glance at him as he spoke, just now feeling the aches and bruises he incurred from the fight.
" I would have killed him." And he wouldn’t have regretted it.
In Ragnar’s mind, one truth rang louder than the chaos around him.
Hairan had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed and when the time came, Ragnar intended to make sure his brother paid for it in full.
