Free Web NovelChapter 208: Chapter 208
Hairan had long grown bored of the company and even more bored of listening to the man seated across from him drone on. His disinterest was plain as day on his face, etched into every sharp line of his features, and he did not bother to mask it. Lord Rycoff, oblivious or simply too arrogant to care, continued speaking with the same self-important cadence.
Rycoff had always been a staunch supporter of the queen and, by extension, of Hairan. But after the king’s vague and unexpected declaration, some alliances were bound to shift. Nobles, after all, excelled at only one thing: attaching themselves to power. And though the queen still held the reins for now, it would not remain that way if the king ultimately chose Ragnar as his successor.
If Ragnar became king, those same nobles who once dismissed him for being a bastard would switch sides without hesitation, eager, desperate even, to preserve their tenuous hold on power.
Hairan knew this. It was why he had been moving swiftly to prevent such a future from forming. This meeting was part of that effort. It was a test of Lord Rycoff’s loyalty, to see whether the man had remained an ally or if he had already crawled toward the path of cowardice.
Rycoff was a wealthy lord, the owner of many sprawling estates scattered across Lamora and, more recently, the beneficiary of an enormous fortune from a particularly successful investment. His wealth had only amplified his presence in court, where he was loud, opinionated, and terribly influential. All useful traits for Hairan to exploit. Which was why he had not hesitated to summon the man.
What Hairan had not expected was for Rycoff to drag his daughter along.
The lord had been anything but subtle about his intentions. He introduced the young woman with far too much flourish and spent nearly half the meeting listing her accomplishments, her virtues, her talents, each praise more performative than the last.
Another parent eager to shove their child up the rungs of society.
Hairan’s mood had soured the moment he saw her seated beside her father. The three of them sat at a round outdoor table in the palace gardens, the chilly morning breeze rustling the leaves, carrying with it the delicate scent of late-blooming flowers. For anyone else, it would have been a peaceful morning. For Hairan, it was close to being a punishment. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
It had been only a year since Iliana was murdered, and already the overly ambitious nobles were trying to replace her, angling for the chance that when Hairan ascended the throne, their daughter would rise with him. Their eagerness didn’t offend him. Their lack of standards did. They really believed he would accept just anyone after Iliana.
His betrothal to Iliana Tavish had been a political arrangement, a union of convenience rather than affection. Neither of them had loved the other. But they had grown up with the unspoken understanding that their houses would one day be united.
When Hairan asked for her hand, he had not done so entirely out of duty. He had done it because she was the daughter of Laheir Tavish, one of the most powerful men in Lamora, which made her one of the most sought after women in the kingdom.
She had been the best, and Hairan had always wanted the best.
So it infuriated him that these nobles thought he would lower his standards now, simply because his betrothed was gone.
Footsteps approached the table. A palace courier bowed deeply to Hairan, then to Rycoff and his daughter.
"Your Highness," the man said respectfully. "A message has arrived for you."
Hairan extended a hand, and the courier placed a sealed letter on to his palm. With a dismissive flick of his fingers, Hairan sent the man away.
The table before them was crowded with plates of freshly baked pastries, sugar-glazed buns, buttery tarts, and golden, flaking rolls still warm from the ovens.
While Lord Rycoff and his daughter had indulged in a few bites, Hairan had not touched a single thing. His appetite had evaporated the moment he realized what Rycoff was attempting to do by bringing along his daughter.
Ignoring his company entirely, Hairan picked up a thin dinner knife and slit open the seal of the letter, unfolding its contents. As his eyes skimmed the page, a small smile tugged at his mouth.
It was a report from the spies he had stationed around Ragnar’s estate. ƒreewebɳovel.com
He had ordered them to observe all unusual movement while staying outside the grounds. He would have preferred to have someone inside the estate, but Ragnar had increased the number of foot soldiers patrolling the perimeter. Every new employee was subjected to intense background checks, and the old staff were fiercely loyal to Ragnar, they would sooner bite off their own tongues than betray him.
This left Hairan with limited options.
He had begun monitoring Ragnar after the discovery of the rebel camp. Being blindsided once had been enough, he had sworn never to be caught unprepared again.
The letter stated that two of Ragnar’s guards had ridden out of the estate. One spy had followed them discreetly all the way to Jireh. There, the guards had gone from forge to forge, questioning smiths, searching for a particular blacksmith.
Hairan’s smile widened, cold and calculating.
Despite how absurd the entire thing sounded, Hairan knew Ragnar too well to believe this was all there was to it. Something else had to be at play.
He had barely finished reading the letter when another servant approached the table. This time, it was not to deliver a letter but to inform him that the queen was summoning him.
Hairan pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, offering his guests a perfunctory smile.
"Well, it seems something else has come up. I’m afraid this meeting will have to come to an end," he said. In truth, he was relieved for the interruption. Anything was preferable to enduring Lord Rycoff’s droning voice and transparent matchmaking schemes, even if it meant trading their company for his mother’s.
