Free Web NovelChapter 64: Chapter 64
Those words immediately snapped Ragnar out of his thoughts and compelled his feet to move faster. What was his brother doing here?
He shoved through the front entrance of the manor, his gaze scanning the entire foyer with keen eyes. There was no sign of Jayran. Behind him, he heard the quick, purposeful steps of someone following. Turning, he saw that it was Casilo.
Casilo had clearly picked up on the urgency in Ragnar’s stride and had decided to follow without waiting for an explanation.
Ragnar wasn’t surprised that Jayran wasn’t in the foyer. He didn’t need to stop one of the house staff to ask about his brother’s whereabouts. He already knew where to find him.
Jayran had visited the manor enough times to know his way around without assistance. And each time he came, it was the same: no warning, no invitation and no sense of boundaries. This time was no different.
Ragnar stormed through the corridors, his boots thudding heavily against the stone floors. When he reached the doors of his study, he threw them open without hesitation. The sound echoed off the high ceilings and walls. Casilo remained right on his heels.
The man inside the study didn’t even flinch at the sudden intrusion or the heavy footsteps that followed.
Jayran sat behind the grand, ornate desk, lounging as if it were his own. One foot was propped shamelessly on its polished surface, and in his hand, he idly twirled a smoking pipe between two fingers. A smug smirk curled his lips when he looked up and met Ragnar’s thunderous expression.
"Why are you here?" Ragnar demanded, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of his brother’s boots defiling the clean surface of his desk. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
"You don’t look thrilled to see me," Jayran replied coolly, adjusting his posture so he could meet Ragnar’s glare head-on. "That’s no way to welcome family."
"Answer my question first, then I’ll decide how you deserve to be welcomed in my house," Ragnar snapped, his tone clipped and devoid of warmth. His lips curled in distaste when he saw Jayran’s shoes on the polished surface of his desk.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like the twins, he was mostly just indifferent when it came to them. But after the incident with Hairan’s betrothed, Ragnar had learned to always be on high alert when he was around them, especially because it was difficult to tell where their loyalties lay at any given time.
But what infuriated him most was someone entering his private study without permission.
Jayran’s smirk didn’t waver. " I’m here to speak to you," Jayran’s eyes slid to Casilo who was standing by the shut doors, and narrowed, " and I would prefer if we spoke alone."
Ragnar crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "Speak now, while you still have my attention and don’t worry about Casilo, he’s not going anywhere."
Jayran gave a small shrug, as if the outcome hardly mattered. With a lazy motion, he removed his foot from the desk and leaned forward, resting both elbows atop the carved wood.
"Very well," he said." I will be completely transparent going forward and I’m going to start now by saying this. I have landed myself in less than unfavorable circumstances. I would like to say that I was blinded by my pride and insatiable greed when I made that wager but that would be a lie. I knew what I was getting myself into."
Ragnar’s brows furrowed. He stepped closer. "What did you do, Jayran?"
Jayran gave a short, humorless laugh, his tone steeped in self-loathing. "What didn’t I do?" he muttered. "I gambled away half of everything I own just to prove a point."
That was always the nature of things between Jayran and Azul. They were identical in appearance but complete opposites in temperament. Despite their closeness, they were locked in an endless cycle of trying to best one another. Winning mattered more to them than anything else and losing, especially to each other, was unacceptable.
"That still doesn’t explain why you showed up unannounced," Ragnar pressed, his frown deepening with every second his question went unanswered. He had other matters to attend to and his patience was slowly wearing thin.
Jayran’s playful demeanor faded, his gaze sharpening with something colder, more calculated. When he spoke again, his tone carried no trace of amusement.
"I don’t see myself ever becoming King," he said. "Neither does Azul. But you... you do." He rose from the chair, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving Ragnar’s. "So tell me, brother, how badly do you want Father’s title? How much do you crave Marzen’s throne?"
The question hit like a stone thrown into still water. Ragnar hadn’t expected this turn. His jaw clenched.
"I don’t—" Ragnar began.
"Don’t lie to me, dear brother," Jayran cut in sharply. "It’s unbecoming. You’re always so quick to judge me for my vices, but in the end, we’re more alike than you’d care to admit. We were all cut from the same cloth. The truth is that your greed knows no bounds. You covet what you’re told you can’t have, just as I do. Don’t pretend you’re above it."
Ragnar didn’t respond. There was no point. Jayran’s words echoed too closely to truths Ragnar had never dared voice aloud.
Seeing his silence as confirmation, Jayran stepped away from the desk entirely. His movements were fluid, resembling a predator on the prowl.
"And yet, for all the questions you’ve thrown at me, you’ve still failed to ask the one that matters most."
Ragnar raised a brow, watching his brother with growing unease.
Jayran’s voice dropped lower. "You didn’t ask about the terms of my wager or who the other party was."
"I don’t see how that concerns me," Ragnar said, though the edge in his tone betrayed his unease. His stance was still as ridge as when he first stepped foot into the study.
"But it does," Jayran replied, his eyes gleaming. "It concerns everyone in Lamora."
