Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 455: Chapter 455

Nheera stood by his bedside, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unmoving upon the bed. She came here every day, lingering for hours at a time—sometimes seated at his side, other times standing in the very spot she now occupied. It was all part of the image she had crafted, the devoted, heartbroken wife faithfully attending to her stricken husband. It was what was expected of her, after all.

Time slipped past unnoticed. The hours seemed to dissolve into one another. She had not spoken a single word since she arrived.

The flickering candlelight bathed the room in a golden glow. When her gaze drifted toward the windows, she found the outside world swallowed whole by darkness.

She reached out and placed the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling his temperature. Zeriel did not stir.

"Every day, I wake and pray that it might be the day you finally die," she said at last, her voice as cold as a frozen lake. The words felt foreign after hours of silence, yet once spoken, they seemed to unlock something within her. "And yet, you continue to deny me even that small mercy."

Her hand lingered for a moment longer before she withdrew it, letting it fall back to her side.

"I wished it would not come to this. I truly did. What kind of mother would I have been, taking my children’s father away from them? I asked myself that question more times than I can count." Her gaze hardened, settling on his face. "But you left me no choice. You forced my hand."

The words came easier now, spilling forth with a force she could no longer contain.

"I tolerated you for decades," she continued, each word tinged with bitterness. "Years of gritting my teeth, of swallowing every slight, every humiliation you so carelessly inflicted. Every time you paraded one of your mistresses before me and our children as though I were nothing. As though I meant nothing. When your children needed you, you failed them. When they sought you out, you disappointed them, just as you disappointed me. Again and again, without remorse."

"I thought of your father on my way here. It still baffles me how a man as remarkable as he was could sire someone like you." She clasped her fingers behind her. "He never looked down on me for my status. Never made me feel lesser, as you so often did. He treated me with a kindness that made me believe foolishly that something good might come of this marriage. I did not love you when I agreed to marry you, nor did I love you on our wedding night. But I hoped."

Her voice wavered with the ghost of something long buried. "I hoped that, in time, we would develop feelings for each other. And if not that, then at least respect. But you could not even offer me that. Then your father died and I found myself wishing it had been you instead. That was when I knew that whatever we had between us had rotted beyond saving. And yet, even then, you found a way to make it worse. You brought your bastard into this palace. Into my life. Into my children’s lives. It was a mistake, one I intend to correct. Soon you will be dead and so will Ragnar."

---

The first thing Ragnar did after receiving the latest missive from the palace was seek out his second-in-command without delay. A rider from the palace had delivered it to the manor just moments ago.

The parchment was still clenched in Ragnar’s hand when he found him, and without preamble, he thrust it forward. freewebnøvel.com

Casilo, who had been in the middle of drawing his bow at Rowen’s persistent urging, barely had time to react before the missive was pressed firmly into his grasp. The arrow wavered for a moment before he lowered the bow entirely, his attention shifting.

"Read it," Ragnar said simply, folding his arms across his chest as he stepped back.

His tone left no room for questions.

Rowen glanced between the two men curiously.

Ragnar turned to him, his expression softening. "Can you give us a moment alone?" he asked. "The cooks made those custard tarts you and your sister like. Take as many as you want and bring some to Circe."

At once, the boy’s face lit up.

"Yes, Your Highness!" Rowen beamed, already turning on his heel. Whatever curiosity lingered was swiftly replaced by excitement as he dashed off, the promise of sweets outweighing all else. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Only once the boy had disappeared did Casilo unfold the parchment fully. His eyes scanned the contents, his expression darkening with each passing line.

When he finished, he lowered the missive slowly and lifted his gaze to Ragnar, disbelief etched plainly across his face.

"They want you to lead the beast hunt," he said.

"An order written and sent by the queen herself," Ragnar replied evenly.

Casilo let out a sharp breath. "She is sending you to your death."

"The beast you fought in the arena failed to kill you," he continued, his grip tightening on the parchment. "So now she wants another to finish the job." Then his eyes narrowed. "You cannot be considering this."

Ragnar’s expression did not change.

"She has not left me with much of a choice," he said. "If I refuse, it will be seen as defiance of a direct command. She will brand me a coward and a traitor to the kingdom."

He knew Nheera. Knew the way she reasoned and her cruelty. And with how many times her cruelty has been directed at him in the past, very little she did could still surprise him.

"Decisions... Decisions..." Casilo muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "And yet you are damned either way" He let out a low exhale, shaking his head. "You are a more patient man than I, Your Highness. Had it been me, I would have put a knife through her damned throat and to hell with the consequences."

"Then how do I take the throne if I’m rotting in a prison cell?" Ragnar asked. Despite everything, there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes, touched by the fact that his friend was so openly offended on his behalf. "There is only one clear path forward from here."

"You plan to hunt the wrecked things?" Casilo asked, his disbelief evident not only in his voice but in the way his brows furrowed deeply.

"I fought and killed one before."

"And you almost died," Casilo retorted sharply. He understood why Ragnar was choosing this path, he truly did, but that understanding did nothing to ease the tight knot of unease in his chest.

"Then we just have to hope I get lucky once again." He didn’t dare dwell on the possibilities, nor on what would happen if he failed to return alive.