Free Web NovelChapter 50: Chapter 50
Ragnar didn’t like the way Nieah was looking at him after Circe slammed his bedroom door hard enough to shake the wooden panes. Her gaze was sharp, too sharp and far too knowing for his comfort. It was the kind of look that made him feel as though she could see straight through him, down to the very rot at his core.
Nieah’s eyes slowly swept over the room, taking in the aftermath of what could only be described as chaos. Shards of a broken glass vase glittered on the floor like splinters of ice. A candelabra lay toppled on its side, its wax still warm and beginning to pool. A journal had been flung across the room, now lying face-up with its pages splayed open and curling at the edges. It was a mess.
Ragnar didn’t even have to tell her what happened or that a fight had taken place only a few minutes ago, the evidence of it was right there in front of her.
"You haven’t even been back a full hour," Nieah said, her voice calm but edged with disapproval, "and already the two of you are at each other’s throats."
" It’s all her doing, that vicious Harpy of a woman." Ragnar pointed straight at the door where Circe just exited through seconds ago. " She’s aggravating." And yet, in spite of that, she lingered in his thoughts more than she should. Something had shifted during their time together at the palace. It was subtle but undeniably there and he didn’t want to examine it too closely.
" So am I to believe that you are completely blameless in this situation?" Nieah asked, lifting a brow. She didn’t know Circe well but something told her Ragnar was more involved in the argument than he was letting on. " Stop antagonizing her."
Ragnar said nothing. It was much harder than Nieah was making it out to be. It wasn’t a switch he could just turn on and off, especially with someone like Circe Valdris who despised everything about him. He could stand stock still, not talking or doing much of anything and his mere presence would be enough to send her into a fit of rage.
" Just make sure she doesn’t destroy any other rooms in the manor." Ragnar said instead. " And be careful while you are at it. My wife seems to possess the ability to turn anything she touches into a weapon."
He had never seen anyone use a candelabra as a weapon until her. The way she grabbed it without thought and the force she used to hurl it at him, it left him stunned. He paused for a heartbeat during their fight, staring at her like a fool. Only a lunatic paused when an object was being launched at their head. But there he had been, gaping at her in disbelief like a dolt.
Nieah gave him a pointed look. "I don’t think I’ll have much trouble with that," she said, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Then, as if remembering something, her expression softened.
"I heard what happened," she added gently.
Ragnar stiffened
It had been days and news tended to travel fast.
" If it’s about the trials in the arena, then yes. The queen has indeed gone mad." Ragnar gave a forced smile. He didn’t like talking about what happened that day and how fast his control had unraveled. He didn’t like thinking about how close he came to dying that day. If he wasn’t torn apart by the beast then he would have died by his own brother’s blade. The queen had planned it that way. It had all been a game to her. A bloody, twisted game.
"For what it’s worth," Nieah said after a pause, her voice softer than before, "you came out alive and victorious. That has to mean something."
It meant the queen would only try harder next time. Her schemes would grow more elaborate, her traps more cunning. She wanted him gone, and if she had to set the whole kingdom ablaze to do it, she wouldn’t hesitate.
This victory didn’t feel like triumph, it was a warning of more problems to come.
For years, Ragnar had been waging a quiet war against the queen, a conflict hidden beneath layers of courtly civility and restrained hostility. It was a battle of patience, of waiting and watching, of striking only when necessary. She had always played her moves in silence, never overtly. But now, for the first time, she had revealed her hand. Whether it was a misstep or a meticulously crafted ploy, Ragnar couldn’t tell. It made him uneasy just thinking about it.
If he had been anyone else, someone less connected, less useful, she would have disposed of him long ago. Quietly and efficiently, just as she had with so many others who had stood in her way or failed to meet her expectations. The queen didn’t tolerate threats, she simply erased them. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
But Ragnar was no easy man to erase.
He was the king’s firstborn son. Illegitimate, yes, but the king’s son regardless. More importantly, he wasn’t someone who could be easily cornered or controlled. It wasn’t his royal lineage that kept him alive, nor was it solely his reputation as a formidable warrior or his fighting prowess. What shielded him was the place he had carved for himself at the center of the kingdom’s strength. It was the fact that he had spent years burrowing himself deep into the heart of the kingdom like a tumor.
He had fought in every major war Lamora faced in the last decade, and he had never returned in defeat. Victory followed him like a shadow, just as literal shadows obeyed his command. His uncanny power, whispered about even in the darkest corners of the palace, made him both an object of fear and fascination. The nobility might loathe him for his origins, for daring to rise beyond the boundaries of his birth, but they could not ignore him.
He had become indispensable to Lamora’s military strength. He was its backbone in every siege, its sword in every campaign. That was his armor. That was what made him untouchable.
The queen knew it too, which was why she hadn’t managed to get rid of him yet.
