Free Web NovelChapter 185: Chapter 185
Ragnar walked out of the room and closed the heavy oak door behind him with a soft click. He had barely made it halfway down the dimly lit hall that led back to his study when he spotted Casilo striding toward him, each step purposeful and measured, like a man on a mission.
Even from a distance, Ragnar could sense the tension radiating off him. His hackles rose instinctively, a silent warning thrumming through his veins. In Casilo’s hand was a folded piece of parchment, creased and worn from hurried handling. freēwēbnovel.com
"Gonan sent word from the capital," Casilo said without preamble when he came into speaking distance, his voice tight. "The queen has reportedly detained two of her ladies-in-waiting and about four of her personal lady’s maids without reason."
Ragnar’s eyes hardened instantly.
Without reason, he repeated quietly under his breath, lips curling into a thin sneer. There had undoubtedly been a reason, one the queen would never broadcast to the kingdom. She wouldn’t want more people to know about the ring she had used to bend half of her subjects to her will or to find out about the other skeletons rattling in her cupboard, secrets far darker than she would ever let on.
It had been three days since Ragnar and Jayran had destroyed the queen’s ring. Since then, he had waited with taut patience for the other shoe to drop, anticipating the inevitable backlash, and now it had come. His mind raced with the implications, and he knew with certainty that every move from this point forward would require extreme caution.
It was expected that the queen would grow suspicious of those around her, desperate to identify whoever had stolen her ring. What Ragnar hadn’t anticipated was that she would act so rashly before having any clear lead. Detaining people at random was dangerous, not for her, but for the delicate balance of power in the court and the ever tilting support of the nobles.
The queen had always been obsessed with the image she projected, the flawless veneer she displayed to courtiers and commoners alike. She always kept away from doing anything that would ruin that image that she so painstakingly built.
But what most fail to understand was that power alone did not grant impunity in Lamora as stated by centuries-old laws that were established after Marzen’s reign. These laws strictly defined what a royal could and could not do. These laws had been written to curb the blatant abuse of power, to prevent monarchs from acting purely on whim or desire.
After Marzen’s long tyrannical reign, those laws were put in place to prevent the past from repeating itself.
It was the only reason the queen was yet to come up with a half-baked reason to have Ragnar tossed in a cell and the only reason he had not already found himself facing the executioner’s block, though she had undoubtedly tried in less overt ways.
The four lady’s maids that were detained by queen Nheera might be overlooked by the general populace for their low standing in society, but the two ladies-in-waiting were nobility, members of the aristocracy.
Royals were not permitted to detain nobles without cause, and certainly not without provable justification. The queen’s indiscretion would not sit well with the court and her outburst would cause her to lose some of the courtiers’ support, particularly now that she no longer had the ring’s influence to sway minds at her whim.
Casilo handed Ragnar the missive, and he took it with a steady hand, scanning Gonan’s carefully penned words. His eyes lingered on each line, parsing the subtleties, ensuring he didn’t miss any important detail.
"What do you plan to do about this, Your Highness?" Casilo asked once Ragnar had finished reading, lowering the parchment with deliberate care.
"Nothing," Ragnar said, his voice sounding even as he gave the practiced response. "The queen throwing a tantrum has nothing to do with us." The words tasted like ash on his tongue but they were necessary. And it couldn’t be helped.
Casilo did not know the truth, had no inkling that the ring itself had vanished, or that its disappearance was the cause of this unrest.
Ragnar did not tell him. Not because he didn’t trust him, but because Jayran had been right. The less anyone knew about the theft, the safer they would be. The fewer people who understood the truth, the harder it would be to implicate them.
Stealing from the queen was a serious and punishable offense, and their current position was already precarious. One whisper of their involvement could unravel everything.
Casilo’s expression remained guarded, uncertain. "Are you sure, Your Highness?" he pressed, his tone laced with concern.
"Quite," Ragnar said, nodding, forcing conviction into his voice. It was not easy. Casilo had known him for years and could read subtle hesitation like an open book.
Yet another thought struck Ragnar suddenly.
"Have someone fetch a fresh jar of ointment," he added, as if it were a trivial afterthought.
The ointment Circe had found in the drawer was old, its potency likely diminished over time and was ready to be tossed out. If that was the case, he would have to get her a new jar of it like he said he would.
Casilo left to do the task he was given. Moments later he returned and met Ragnar in his private study. Then without a word he placed the jar of salve on Ragnar’s desk.
When Casilo spoke, it was to ask a question.
"Did you injure yourself, your highness?" Casilo asked curiously.
Ragnar shook his head as he reached for the jar to examine its contents. "It’s for my wife."
There was always a feeling of rightness that overtook him whenever he called her that. Because it was the truth. She was his and only his, a fact he would do anything to maintain.
He stood from his chair with the ointment in hand. She would have been done with her bath by now, which meant he could give it to her now.
