Free Web NovelChapter 145: Chapter 145
The following morning, Ragnar departed at first light for the palace. The ride from his manor in Amris to the capital was a long journey that he was now used to, but the weight he carried within him—the scouts’ reports, his mounting suspicions, and the possible consequences of both—made the journey feel far longer than it ought to be.
By the time he passed through the palace’s outer gates the sun had begun its descent over the stone towers, casting a golden glow on the sprawling courtyard. freewёbnoνel.com
The guards at the main entrance saluted sharply as he dismounted. Their armor possessed a dull, regal sheen that frequently caught the light.
The queen must have been oblivious to his arrival because Ragnar could easily notice the differences in the palace’s atmosphere when the queen’s influence wasn’t yet present.
The palace staff didn’t seem to fear him as much and no longer watched him with that wary look he had grown used to under the queen’s influence.
Instead, the sentries at the main entrance regarded him with something closer to awe, an acknowledgment fitting for a man of his station, a decorated general and war hero.
For an instant Ragnar allowed himself to imagine how much simpler his life might be without the queen’s subtle manipulations, without the constant undercurrent of people bending to her wills. How much lighter the air would feel if most of the courtiers did not always rush to do her bidding.
The queen fuelled such a hostile environment in the palace and it was all in a bid to make Ragnar feel unwelcome whenever he was around. It worked well enough when he was much younger but now he knew better.
"I request a private audience with His Majesty," Ragnar said to the guards who flanked the entrance to the king’s wing. His voice was already steady and firm and he saw no need to raise it.
They did not move at once. The stoney set of his features and the tight expression he wore must have given them pause.
A second later, one guard bowed and walked away from the rest of them. He returned a few moments later with the news that the king had granted Ragnar’s request.
Ragnar followed him through a long corridor that led deeper into the king’s wing.
Tapestries and gilded portraits of Lamora’s long-dead kings looking down from their painted frames lined the walls, men whose eyes seemed to follow him as he passed.
At the very end of the hall was a gilded portrait of Marzen, their first ruler. The painter of the image made sure to capture Marzen’s likeness in youth rather than what he looked like when he lost vision in both eyes and was no longer able to continue ruling Lamora.
Marzen had been vain about his looks in life, and the portrait had clearly been ordered to flatter; Ragnar had seen it so often that he didn’t even let his gaze linger for even a second.
When he stepped into the room, King Zeriel was already waiting. light poured in through the tall arched windows, striping the floor with pale gold. freewebnøvel.coɱ
The king’s head was bare of any crown, or the gleaming circlet of gold and obsidian that he usually wore during more casual occasions. Yet Zeriel’s presence filled the room all the same.
He sat with easy authority, arching a single brow at the sight of his oldest son.
Ragnar bowed his head with the practiced respect of a soldier. "Your majesty, I have important information to share, news that I’m sure will please you."
The king flicked a hand and the attendants in the room with him took the hint and left. Once the heavy doors clicked shut and the echoes of the retreating footsteps faded, only the two of them remained in the room.
"I bring news from the scouts I sent to the east." Ragnar stepped forward and presented a thick, sealed dossier bound in black leather. The leather’s edge bore the faint scuff of travel.
"This contains everything we’ve gathered." Ragnar said. "The scouts confirmed the rebels’ camp in the eastern region, near Sācar. The encampment is large and fortified, with sentries posted around the perimeter. So far, they have not yet shown any signs of relocating."
King Zeriel accepted the documents with a thoughtful hum. He broke the seal and began to leaf through the pages. It included drawn maps, tally marks, terse field notes rendered in a cramped, but efficient script.
His sharp eyes scanned the lines of ink with the calm, clinical attention of a man who had read many such reports in his lifetime. The silence between them stretched, punctuated only by the whisper of turning pages.
Ragnar continued speaking with a controlled cadence, filling the gaps the king’s quiet left open.
"Their numbers are significant enough to cause concern, though not yet so great that they cannot be contained. I have catalogued probable supply routes, estimated troop counts, and the guards’ rotations observed by the scouts. Every possible point of entry and every weakness they revealed has been documented in detail."
When the king’s gaze rose from the papers, it was steady and appraising.
"You have been thorough," he said. His voice was cold, but there was also an unmistakable hint of approval there. Approval of any kind was an expression rarely seen in the king, and he only showed it whenever Ragnar returned after being shipped off to fight in another battle "Very thorough. I trust you did not come merely to hand me these findings."
Ragnar nodded his head once. "No, Your Majesty. I have come to request permission to deploy troops to the eastern front. If we strike now, with speed and precision, we can take them by surprise. From what the scouts reported, they are not expecting an attack. A well-timed ambush would greatly weaken their forces and disrupt their supply lines."
King Zeriel leaned back, tapping the armrest of his chair with the tip of a finger, as if measuring the weight of each word. A slow satisfied smile curved his lips.
