Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Ragnar barely hid the surprise on his face when Gonan stepped towards the prisoner and began hoisting up his body. Gonan’s hatred for the assassin had been palpable, so watching him lift the corpse now into his arms made Ragnar frown in confusion.

Despite the strange sight before him, Ragnar refused to question it. After exiting the tiny cell, Gonan led them down a narrow corridor that stretched in a direction opposite to that of the main entrance. A door stood at the end of the path. It led out into the gardens at the side of the house.

A man was crouched by the flower beds. He wore a wide brimmed straw hat to protect his face and eyes from the sun as he tended to the gardens.

He rose to his feet swiftly upon spotting Gonan and Ragnar striding out, their movements rushed and frantic. They caught him staring seconds after his eyes landed on them.

The man’s eyes widened when he spotted the motionless man in Gonan’s clutches. Their expressions were grim. They didn’t slow as they reached him.

He darted out of the way quickly to let them pass without a word. He didn’t miss when Ragnar briefly paused by the spot where multiple gardening tools were sprawled haphazardly on the grass and picked up a shovel before once again falling in step with Gonan. He could hardly resist watching them walk farther away from the house until they finally disappeared behind the tree line.

Gonan hastened his gait with each step. Ragnar doubted it was because they had been spotted with the body, it probably had more to do with the fact that Gonan wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

They stopped when they had both walked far enough away from the house. Surrounded by thick trees, Gonan settled the assassin’s corpse down on top of the dried leaves and twigs that littered the ground.

" Here will have to do." Ragnar said. He pushed the head of the shovel into the dense earth where he stood. Soft soil came loose. Another push with the shovel and more soil came loose. He repeated the action until he had an adequate sized hole.

By the time he was done, dirt clung to his breeches and sweat glinted off his forehead.

Gonan lowered the Assassin into the grave, making sure to lie him on his back.

" Hopefully the flames of hell would be kinder than what I had planned to do to you." Gonan was staring at the dead assassin as he spoke. He took the shovel from Ragnar and used it to toss the first patch of dirt into the hole. It landed directly on the assassin’s chest. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Once he was done filling up the hole, he glanced at Ragnar standing silently off to the side, gaze raking over his dirt stained clothes.

" You can’t speak to the queen looking like that." Gonan rebuked as they walked back from where they came. His eyes held a look of disapproval that Ragnar had earned on more than one occasion.

" I couldn’t care less about what the queen thinks." Ragnar stared straight ahead as he spoke. His words were only partly true. Thoughts of the queen were constantly on his mind, not because he respected or admired her.

It was more in the same way a soldier thought of his opponent in battle, trying to anticipate their every move. He thought of her because she was the queen and her actions had the ability to unravel everything he had accomplished.

Gonan’s look of disapproval deepened. " I, for one, refuse to let you leave my estate looking like that."

Despite them both taking turns using the shovel, Gonan’s clothes somehow managed to remain pristine.

" Looking like what?" Ragnar quirked a brow. He was glad for the light conversation. Without it, he feared his mind would continue spiraling from what he witnessed that day.

" Looking like you tussled in dirt with the pigs." Each word was tinged with faint disgust.

Vampires, particularly those of noble blood, were notorious for their vanity, prizing beauty as fiercely as power. Yet Gonan took this a step further. Even as a boy, he had hated roughhousing with his peers, refusing to spar with wooden swords for fear it would muss his hair or crease his fine clothes. Now grown, he remained fastidious to the point of obsession, grooming himself with near-sacred precision and finding cruel delight in mocking those whose attire looked disheveled.

The man that tended to the gardens was gone by the time they returned back to the house. The plan had been to bury the prisoner without anyone seeing but neither of them were worried about the man telling people about what he saw. Every member of Gonan’s staff was sworn into secrecy. Telling outsiders what they saw and heard while working there would mean breaking their vow and doing so was met with harsh punishment.

Inside, Gonan handed Ragnar a fresh set of clean clothes.

" Clothes befitting a man of your station." Gonan joked.

Ragnar accepted them without complaint even while he eyed the clothes skeptically. They were from Gonan’s wardrobes so he doubted they would fit.

Gonan and Ragnar were about the same height but Ragnar had a wider build, arms and legs corded with thick muscles hewn from years training and war. Those were thankfully one of Gonan’s looser fitting clothes and although still a bit snug around the arms, Ragnar could still wear them comfortably.

"What do you think the queen wants this time?" Gonan asked. There was a slight hint of worry in his voice and in the crease between his brows as he watched Ragnar mount his horse. He knew Ragnar would be riding for the palace from here but no matter how hard he wrecked his mind, he couldn’t fathom a reason behind the queen’s summons.

" Why else but to torment me? She knows I hate the palace so she comes up with ways to force me back day after day." Ragnar feared one day he would snap and attack queen Nheera with the same level of hatred and aggression she had used on him his entire life. But entertaining the thought alone was treasonous. " Send one of your men to Kezar to retrieve Cornelia Biven. I need her alive and unharmed."

Gonan’s lips thinned. " I’m not risking another of my guard’s life for that wretch."

Ragnar’s horse snorted impatiently. freewēbnoveℓ.com

" I made a promise, Gonan. I gave my word to a dying man." Ragnar didn’t make promises lightly and whenever he did, he made sure to fulfill them.

Whatever few morals Ragnar once possessed had shriveled up and died in the battlefield along with Ragnar’s fallen comrades.

But his word still meant something.

Gonan’s expression was unyielding for a few moment, eyes glinting with harsh refusal. But the next second, he relented with a small nod. Ragnar was like a brother to him after all. They have been friends for far too long and dealt with bigger matters together for this small task to be an issue.

" You are one of the king’s sons. Kindness doesn’t suit you. Not while surrounded by people who could easily use it against you." Gonan said. " I will send her straight to your manor as soon as she is found."

Ragnar cracked a smile. " You’re a good friend, Gonan."

" It’s what you deserve."