Free Web NovelChapter 393: Chapter 393
Inside, the grand chamber was already filled. The entire royal family was present. The king sat upon the raised throne at the far end of the hall, his crown gleaming beneath the glow of chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. Beside him sat the queen, her posture elegant and rigid, her expression completely devoid of emotion. Prince Hairan stood nearby with his new wife at his side.
Nearly all the most influential courtiers had gathered as well. Arik and Falein were among the last to arrive.
Once everyone had taken their places, the attention of the entire court turned toward the king.
"A great tragedy has befallen us," the king began, his voice carrying clearly across the vast chamber. His back was ramrod straight as he addressed the nobles assembled before him. "I am certain that all of you present here have already heard of the slaughter that unfortunately took place within Lord Rycoff’s home. Some of you were even directly affected by it. Many among you have lost family members and loved ones in that dreadful event. My prayers go out to each of the grieving families."
He paused briefly, before continuing.
"Though I know that words alone cannot mend such terrible loss, I still wish to express how deeply I regret that such a tragedy was allowed to occur within our kingdom. Rest assured that I will spare no effort in discovering who is responsible. When they are found, they will face the full severity of the law for the heinous crimes they have committed."
Several courtiers nodded in agreement. Others whispered quietly among themselves, their voices blending into a low murmur that filled the chamber. freёwebnovel.com
But among them stood one man whose expression did not mirror the others.
His gaze was fixed directly upon the king, his eyes narrowed slightly while his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. freёwebnovel.com
"Your Majesty, might I have a word?" Halric asked. His voice cut cleanly through the murmurs, immediately drawing the attention of the entire room.
"If you must," King Zeriel replied, lifting one hand in a small gesture for him to continue.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Halric said with a respectful bow. Yet even after he straightened back to his full height, the tension in his face remained unchanged, and the expression he wore suggested that the words he was about to speak would not be as agreeable as the king might hope.
"I feel very sorry for all those who lost their lives at Lord Rycoff’s banquet, and I deeply appreciate that you have taken time out of your busy schedule to properly address the tragedy that occurred. But I would like to ask where this same level of outrage was when armed thugs attacked me and my son on our way home and ransacked our carriage. Where was your sympathy when my son eventually lost his life from the injuries inflicted on him by those same thugs? It has not been long since it happened, yet I have never heard you say anything about it. Is Galen not worthy of the king’s sympathy?"
The rest of the courtiers were left gawking, stunned into speechless silence by Halric’s outburst and the sheer audacity of his statement. A ripple of unease passed through the throne room as nobles exchanged incredulous glances with one another.
"Lord Nereth, this is not the time or place for you to air your grievances," Hairan snapped sharply. "If you have a problem you wish to address with His Majesty, you may do so with him in private."
Lord Rycoff simply observed in silence while Halric and Hairan spoke. He had received a letter recently, one that contained deeply concerning information but he had not yet acted on it.
Davien Rycoff was not a man who made reckless decisions, and he certainly did not intend to launch accusations against someone as powerful as Halric based solely on the contents of a single letter. But witnessing the callous and arrogant manner in which Halric had just spoken made something inside Davien snap.
His vision burned red as rage surged hot in his chest, consuming the last fragile threads of restraint he possessed. Whatever cautious reasoning he had clung to moments ago shriveled to ash.
How dare he?Davien glared at Halric from across the throne room, his jaw tightening. Only moments ago he had been uncertain of what his next move should be, but the man’s shameless display had swept away every lingering doubt.
"Your Majesty, if I may?" This time it was Arik Tomar who spoke.
The king already looked visibly irritated by Halric’s earlier remarks, the faint tightening of his expression betraying his displeasure. Still, after a brief pause, he granted Arik permission to speak with a curt gesture of his hand.
Arik did not bother bowing. Instead, he stepped forward and barreled straight into his words.
"Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect of any sort," he began, "but I am inclined to empathize with Lord Nereth in this situation. How can you promise to provide justice to the victims of the massacre when my sister has been dead for eleven years and you have done next to nothing to ensure that her killers are brought to justice? My sister died in this very palace. She was married to one of your sons. Should that not have made her murder a top priority for you? Yet every appeal my father and my older brothers have made to you about this matter has always been blocked."
Beside him, his father suddenly grabbed his arm and tugged harshly, clearly trying to stop him before he said something that could not be taken back.
But Arik refused to yield. He shook off his father’s hand and pressed on.
"After years of silence from Your Majesty," he said coldly, "you cannot blame me for taking matters into my own hands."
At that exact moment, the massive double doors of the throne room creaked open.
The sound drew every eye in the hall.
Three men stepped inside. One of them had his hands tightly bound in front of him with thick rope, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. The other two were guards hired by Arik, their grips firm as they dragged the struggling man across the polished floor of the throne room and forced him before the king.
The courtiers watched the scene unfold with rapt attention.
Ragnar’s spine went rigid the instant his eyes landed on the bound man. A sharp breath tore from his lungs. Even after receiving word from the messenger, nothing could have truly prepared him for what it would feel like to see the man again after all these years, to look upon the face of his wife’s killer.
