" Your majesty, Prince Ragnar wishes to speak to you." Irah spoke low but Ragnar was still able to hear every word.
" It's fine. You may leave us now." The queen waved away her chief lady in waiting, her gaze on the attrium's entrance where Ragnar stood. His huge frame and presence filled the entire doorway.
The atrium was decorated more like a sitting area, with white lounging furniture, luxurious pink pillows, and a koi pond filled with exotic shimmering rainbow colored fishes. It was where the queen usually held meetings with her ladies in waiting and other servants.
Irah bowed low before turning around to leave. She glanced up at Ragnar as she approached the threshold. Her hand reached out to brush along his shoulder but Ragnar was faster, moving away before her fingers could even make contact.
He didn't look at her and she walked out without uttering a single word. The little exchange didn't go unnoticed by the queen.
Queen Nheera lounged on the chaise. She crossed one leg over the other and in front of her was a tray of half eaten pastries. The gown she wore had a plunging neckline, its color as dark as pitch. Her silver blond hair hung loose, falling down to her lower back in waves. It framed a heart-shaped face with a long nose and full lips.
The moment the queen looked at him, Ragnar instantly felt the familiar weight he always felt when she was around, pushing down on his mind. The sensation was akin to fist pounding against hard steel. It took everything in him not to bend over clutching his head. He stood straighter instead, tucking away every sign of discomfort.
Her painted lips curled into a coy smile. " To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit."
" It's about the princess of Westeria." Ragnar said.
" What about her?" The queen asked.
Ragnar hated the way the queen's pale eyes watched him so keenly. Nothing got past her. He had to tread more carefully around her because of it.
" I'm here to ask you to reconsider your decision. I see no reason why I should be the one to wed the girl when the task could have easily fallen to any of the lords of the court." Some of his disdain for the situation slipped out with his words despite how hard he tried to keep his emotions in check.
Nheera turned to face him completely. " Tell me something, Ragnar. Do you think you are above marrying someone like Circe?"
Ragnar didn't answer. He couldn't. His lack of response seemed to stoke Queen Nheera's amusement.
" Circe is a member of Westeria's royal family. She is a child of their late king and a legitimate one at that. Something you are not. It can even be said that she outranks you. But then again she is still human." The queen tilted her head. " Is it her being human that bothers you?"
" The kingdom will benefit nothing from this marriage." He argued. " Instead of tightening our defenses in the east, we will be wasting time and resources planning a royal wedding. Once again I ask that you reconsider."
The queen's lips parted. Ragnar already knew what she would say before the actual words had even left her mouth.
" My decision stands."
" But your majesty—" Ragnar went to interject but the queen cut him off swiftly.
" And I would prefer you never bring up the matter with me ever again." Her tone was as frigid as a frozen lake. Her eyes were piercing in its intensity. The emerald ring she wore on her right ring finger caught the light when she moved her hand. Instead of gleaming, the ring seemed to emanate a slight glow from within.
Ragnar did his best to not stare at it. If he did, he could no longer pretend to be oblivious to the queen's most kept convoluted secret. If the queen caught him staring at the glow, she would know that the mind control she had the entire palace under didn't work on him, that it never once worked on him.
For that reason, Ragnar kept his gaze on her when he spoke. " Your majesty, I have to insist. My duty is to fight and defend our nation, I am under no obligation to marry."
" I beg to differ. When you knelt in front of the throne and took a vow of servitude to Lamora, you also pledged your life to the crown and whoever wears it. Since the king didn't object to my proposition, you will do as you are told or you will face the consequences. You may leave if there isn't anything more to discuss." She looked away.
It was a clear enough dismissal. He clenched his jaw as he bowed before her.
A part of him had known he wouldn't achieve anything by directly confronting the queen. It was as though the more he showed her his unwillingness to do something, the harder she shoved it at him. It was her way of reminding Ragnar that he would forever be beneath her. But Ragnar had been fueled by desperation. Speaking to Nheera had been his last option and now he was right back where he started, with no solution in sight.
As soon as he put physical distance between himself and the queen, the weight on his mind slowly eased and he breathed a sigh of relief. After he exited the atrium, he immediately turned and made his way to the stables which housed some of the king's prized steed. When he reached the pens, he bypassed the other horses and walked straight to one in particular. His war horse.
It was a huge stallion with a shiny black pelt. The horse stomped its hooves on the ground in unbridled excitement at the sight of its master approaching.
Ragnar took his horse by the bridle and led it out of the stable. He took them into the open fields right outside the palace gates. He let the horse graze on a patch of luscious green foliage.
With a grunt, Ragnar plopped down on a patch of soft grass. He sat with one leg stretched out, the other bent towards his chest. It was silent, safe for the whistling wind and the occasional snorting sound his horse made. He gave into the thoughts plaguing him and retreated deeper into his mind.
He suspected the queen's motives. He conjured up multiple reasons that explained the queen's actions but only one stood out to him. The queen didn't want him to strengthen his influence and standing in the court. Marrying Circe would do the exact opposite.
Despite being a royal herself, Circe had no power in Lamora and was nothing more than a prisoner between the castle's walls. Marrying her would threaten everything he had worked to build throughout the years, years he spent enduring the queen's barbed tongue and sharp words.
One decision and everything would come toppling over.
Ragnar was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the approaching footsteps. Two tall figures stood over him, blocking his view. When Ragnar looked up, he spotted two identical male faces staring down at him.
" What brings you out here, brother?" The first twin, Jayran asked. Ragnar knew exactly who spoke despite the fact many struggled to tell them apart.
" And why are you alone?" This time it was the second twin, Azul that spoke.
They both had their mother's silver blond hair but instead of pale blue eyes, they had the king's brown eyes.
" Because I enjoy silence." Ragnar responded curtly.
Jayran clicked his tongue. " Don't be like that, brother. Loneliness has never helped anyone. And while we are on the topic of you being alone, you knew we weren't in the capital the night your troops returned from Westeria. Why didn't you tell us you're getting married?"
" When did you start keeping secrets?" Azul chimed in. The way the twins behaved was unsettling. They spoke as though they shared one mind. It was eerie the way they seemed to finish each other's sentences. Ragnar was already used to their mannerisms so it didn't bother him.
Regardless of the fact that they all grew up together and shared the same father, there were still times Ragnar couldn't tell where their loyalties lay, hence he couldn't trust them.
" The queen has all the answers to your questions. Go and speak to her and leave me in peace."
He watched the twins share a loaded look. Right then they communicated in a language only the two of them understood.
Without a word, they both dropped down to the ground beside Ragnar. One on each side.
Ragnar belatedly noticed the specks of blood on their clothes. Identical swords hung strapped to their sides.
" Who was it?" Ragnar asked. He didn't need to elaborate for them to understand.
Who did their father send them to kill this time?
" Lord Tamelyn." Azul answered.
" But Tamelyn is our uncle." Ragnar's face twisted into a grimace.
Jayran threw his head back and laughed.
" Do you think that matters to the king?"
No, Ragnar couldn't help but agree. Family never mattered to the king. Nothing ever did.
This was going to create unrest amongst the lords of the court once the news of the death was exposed. They would all be forced to tread more carefully from that moment on. Because if the king can murder his own cousin, what's stopping them from becoming his next target?