Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 247: Chapter 247

Ragnar found Lady Taryn already waiting for him in the guest parlour, seated near the tall windows where sunlight streamed into the space. At his entrance, she rose at once, gathering her skirts with practiced grace, and bowed low.

"Your highness."

Ragnar inclined his head in return, a gesture much less formal than hers. "You needn’t stand on my account."

She smiled as she straightened, the lines at the corners of her eyes deepening with the expression.

"Old habits," she said lightly. "And some courtesies deserve to be kept, even among allies."

He gestured for her to sit, taking the chair opposite her a second later. This was not their first of such meeting, nor their tenth. Lady Taryn had been a fixture in his political life long before the queen even began to see him as a formidable threat to Hairan’s position and before some of the courtiers learned to whisper his name with caution.

Where others offered useless flattery, she spoke plainly. Where others practically worshipped the queen, Lady Taryn remained a distant observer, gathering any information that Ragnar may need. In the years that they have been allies, she has proven to be incredibly useful.

"The capital was quite a buzz before I left, especially among the noble circles," she began without preamble. "Prince Hairan has been busy."

"And?" Ragnar asked, settling back. "What has my brother done now?"

The smile on Lady Taryn’s face faded into something sharper. "He has been generous."

Ragnar huffed a quiet breath. "That is never a good sign."

"Three minor lords were invited to a private supper two nights before my family and I came here," she continued. "From what I heard, favors were promised. He spoke at length about unity, and about stability for the ruling class under the crown."

"Under his crown," Ragnar corrected.

"Of course." She folded her hands in her lap. "Throughout the entire ordeal, he said things to them that presented himself as the safer and more logical choice."

Ragnar’s mouth curved faintly. "I assume I was painted as the opposite."

She did not deny it. "He did not name you explicitly of course but the implication was clear. But the nobles are flattered by the attention he is showing them."

"Or blinded by it," Ragnar replied coolly. "What else is he offering them?"

"Positions. Influence." She said. "But that’s not all. Prince Hairan intends to pick a bride and the nobles are scrambling to make sure that their daughters are chosen."

Ragnar gave a quiet huff of amusement. "And you? Pray that he doesn’t set his sights on your daughter."

Taryn scowled. "I would rather pluck out my own eyes than allow that mad man anywhere near my precious Avarine."

That earned her a genuine smile.

Their conversation flowed easily after that. She had always been skilled at assessing situations so the information she gathered was always precise. It was why Ragnar had trusted her for years.

They were midway through their discussion when the door to the parlour opened.

A young maid stepped aside first, bowing low. freewebnσvel.cøm

"Lady Avarine," she announced softly.

Avarine entered with that basket still cradled in her hands, covered neatly with linen. It was her first time being there so she paused just inside the threshold, subtly glancing around the beautifully furnished space.

"Your highness," she said, dipping into a graceful curtsy. Then she turned to Taryn. "Mother."

Ragnar dipped his chin in polite acknowledgment. "Lady Avarine. It’s good to see you."

"Thank you, your highness," she said, her smile gentle, her voice soft.

The maid bowed once more and withdrew, closing the door behind her and leaving the three of them alone.

Lady Taryn gestured for her daughter to come closer. "You found your way here easily enough, then?"

"I did," Avarine said. "Though I took the longer path." She shifted the basket slightly in her arms. "Since it was my first time here at the estate, I wanted to see the grounds before intruding in on your conversation."

Her words were light and playful.

"It is an understandable indulgence," Ragnar said to her. "You should also see the gardens before you go. The flower garden by the courtyard is my wife’s most favorite place in the estate."

A flicker crossed her expression at that, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"I will, thank you for the offer." Avarine smiled. She had been smiling since she entered the parlour and most of her smiles were directed at Ragnar while her mother watched on quietly.

She stepped forward and extended the basket toward him.

"I brought almond tarts," she said softly. "I hope you don’t mind."

"Of course not," Ragnar replied, offering her a courteous smile. "You’re very kind."

But she noticed that he did not reach for one.

For a moment, the basket hovered between them, her arms steady, her expression unchanged. Then she inclined her head and set it down carefully on the small table beside his chair, aligning it so it faced him.

Lady Taryn glanced at the basket, her next words already at the tip of her tongue.

"You remembered his preference," she said approvingly. "How kind of you."

Back when Ragnar still lived in the capital, he would pay them visits occasionally and whenever he did, their cooks would always bake things made with almonds. That was how Avarine came to know of his love for them

Avarine’s fingers stilled on the basket handle for a second too long.

"I thought it would be appropriate to bring something along with me." she said smoothly.

Ragnar nodded, already turning back toward Lady Taryn. "Back to what you were saying. Was Lord Armen part of those he was trying to convince."

"Yes," Lady Taryn said, picking up where she left off without hesitation. "Hairan has begun courting the outer houses now.

The outer houses were the ones who prided themselves on their neutrality.

Whenever there was a shift in power in the court like when a crown prince was about to be chosen, the noble families were fond of choosing sides. But there were a few families that tended to opt out of the entire squabble altogether. Lord Armen was a part of one of those families.

As they spoke, Avarine moved quietly to one of the chairs nearby. She folded her hands in her lap and listened.

When Lady Taryn spoke, Avarine’s gaze rested politely on her mother’s face. Then when Ragnar responded, it would shift subtly to him.

"He believes he can buy their favor with money and promises," Ragnar mused. "If his own mother had failed in that endeavor, what makes him think he will succeed?"

His brother had always been unfairly confident.

Avarine tilted her head slightly, as if considering this, her eyes still on Ragnar.

"If I may," she said softly.

Both of them looked at her, surprised but not displeased by the interruption.

"Of course," Lady Taryn said.

Avarine’s smile widened slightly. "Lord Armen likes to think ahead," she said. "He won’t align openly unless he’s certain the outcome benefits him long-term. But he also doesn’t like feeling like he is being forced into something. If Prince Hairan presses too hard, he may lose him entirely."

Ragnar studied her for a moment.

"You’ve been paying attention." He said and at first it was difficult to tell if he was impressed or displeased by that fact.

"I listen," she replied. "People speak more freely when they believe you to be unassuming."

Lady Taryn smiled, pleased. "She has always been observant."

Ragnar nodded his head once. "A useful trait."

Avarine lowered her gaze demurely at the praise. When she looked up again, her attention lingered on him a fraction longer than before, as though she were searching his expression for something else. Approval, perhaps.

He returned his focus to Lady Taryn.

The conversation resumed, flowing around Avarine rather than including her. She did not interrupt again. Instead, she stood and reached for the wine pitcher that had been placed on the center of the table before her arrival, pouring some in a cup for her mother first then for Ragnar without saying a word.

Ragnar paused when she set his own down beside the small basket.

He had not asked her to do that.

"Thank you," he said anyway. But just like with the tarts, he didn’t reach for it. He didn’t want to drink anything that would prevent him from returning to his task in the library after this.

"You’re welcome, your highness," she replied gently.

Lady Taryn rose a while later once they concluded their discussion, smoothing her skirts. "We’ve taken enough of your time today, your highness."

"On the contrary," Ragnar said, standing. "You’ve given me valuable information. I’m grateful."

As they exchanged parting courtesies, Avarine gave him one last lingering look. Mother and daughter left the parlour together, their footsteps echoing down the hall while Ragnar chose to stay back in the parlour for a moment longer. When he finally turned to leave as well, he found Circe standing by the threshold looking a bit off-kilter, her arms wrapped around her middle.