Free Web NovelChapter 195: Chapter 195
Nheera’s fingers curled slowly against the velvet arm of the settee, her nails digging in just enough to threaten to rip the fabric. The harsh silence that followed Laheir’s words was taut and commanding, causing her to vibrate with barely contained rage.
"You dare threaten me in my own chambers?" she asked, her voice low, and menacing, now stripped of every trace of feigned disinterest it once possessed seconds ago. The lazy posture he had met her with had vanished.
She sat upright, spine becoming more rigid, chin lifted as she assessed him from head to toe, in that shrewd way of hers that forcely reminded Laheir of who he was presently dealing with. frёeωebɳovel.com
But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t look the least bit intimidated.
They had worked well together in the past to achieve their goals during her earlier years as queen. After all, they had once been on the same side, the side that plotted and succeeded in making Zeriel king back when he was still her betrothed. Laheir had been just as ambitious as she was.
But he had never truly respected her authority as queen, which was a problem in itself.
"You know very well what I stand to lose," he replied. "And you know what you stand to lose with me. If the king traces rebels’s dealings back to anyone connected to my house, he will not stop until every name is drudged up, including yours, Nheera Osbourne." He used her full name to drive home his point.
Her jaw clenched, a sharp tick betraying the first crack in her composure. "You overestimate your importance to the royal family if you are unable to fix problems caused by your incompetent son without running back to me with your tail tucked behind your legs."
"And you underestimate your vulnerability in this situation." Laheir’s tone remained steady, and calm. "You think losing that ring is your only crisis, but it is merely the first stone in an avalanche that will be your downfall. Meanwhile, you waste time tearing your rooms apart like a child throwing a tantrum."
Nheera surged to her feet, the hem of her gown sweeping across the polished floor. "Watch your tongue if you wish to keep it."
"I am simply saying the truth," he said. "I’m minding the only person in this palace foolish enough to believe she still holds full control over the court." His gaze drifted pointedly toward the guarded entrance. "You no longer command this court the way you once did. The king doubts you. The nobles whisper behind your back. And the moment Ragnar is officially declared heir, half of them will turn their backs on Hairan entirely."
Nheera moved past him, pacing once, twice. Her movements were tight, and controlled, as though she feared that even a twitching muscle might betray her current state of mind. When she stopped, it was with her back to him.
"You speak as if I caused Ragnar to capture the rebels," she said. "As though I wished for what Zeriel did when it was your good for nothing son that put you in this situation."
"You fueled it," Laheir countered. "Every move you made at court sharpened the contrast between you and Ragnar. Every outburst, every punishment, every attempt to undermine him only highlighted how controlled and measured he appeared beside you."
Her laugh came out brittle. "The court hates him. I made sure of it."
"The court fears him," Laheir corrected. "They tolerate you."
Nheera turned sharply, eyes flashing with something deeper than anger, something close to genuine alarm. "Hairan is the king’s son. He should have been the one they rallied behind."
"You planned on using Hairan as your puppet once he is on the throne," Laheir said bluntly. "Everyone that knows you, knows this. No one follows a future king who is drunk more times than he is sober."
She struck the nearest table with an open palm, and one of the ornaments toppled off and cracked against the floor.
"You blame me for Hairan’s faults," she hissed. "But I have done everything to secure his future. Every choice I made, every sacrifice was for him."
"For him?" Laheir repeated softly, "or for your own power?"
The question hung there, heavy and sharp.
Nheera didn’t answer. Her silence was answer enough.
Laheir pressed on, his voice clipped. "The king’s inquiry begins at dawn. If they interrogate the rebels and discover ties that leads to Yannick, the truth will not stay buried. You must act before that happens."
"And what is it you expect from me?" she demanded.
"I expect you to stop indulging in personal obsessions," he said, "and start behaving like a queen with something to protect. Secure Hairan’s position. Control the narrative before the king makes his announcement public."
Nheera stared at him, breathing hard, the full weight of the situation settling like ice along her skin. She had always known that the power she held could shift quickly and unexpectedly, but she had never imagined how swiftly it could unravel when she wasn’t watching every thread.
"Ragnar will not sit on Marzen’s throne," she said at last, her voice sounding colder. "I will not allow it."
"Then prove it," Laheir replied. "Because right now, the only one standing in his way is you."
Nheera’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint forming, one Laheir recognized all too well. It was the look she wore right before she carved a path no one expected.
"Leave," she said. freёwebnovel.com
Laheir inclined his head, satisfied enough to obey. "Do not wait too long, Your Majesty."
When the door closed behind him, the chamber fell into a heavy stillness. Nheera remained standing, statue-like, her hands trembling despite her efforts to steady them.
Her ring was gone and her so-called allies were unreliable. Ragnar was quickly rising to power. And the king was preparing to expose a treachery that could caused Nheera her title and drag her to ruins.
For the first time in years, Queen Nheera felt the precarious tilt of power slipping beneath her feet.
She drew a slow breath, Then another. By the time she exhaled, her expression had settled into icy determination. If the court wanted a queen capable of decisive action, she would show them one.
And whoever had taken her ring would suffer for daring to tip the scales.
