ASTRID’S POV

After breakfast, a summon was delivered by a young page who couldn’t meet my eyes.

“King Harald wished to speak with you privately in his solar,” he said and added quickly. “ Alone.”

The request sent a chill down my spine. In the three days we had been at court, the king had never asked to see me without Ragnar present.

Every interaction had been carefully orchestrated public displays, designed to show his power and our vulnerability. A private audience could only mean one thing – he was ready to make his real move.

I found Ragnar in the courtyard, practicing his sword work with some of the other jarls. The familiar ring of steel on steel was somehow comforting in this place where everything else felt dangerous and false.

He looked up when he saw me approaching, his ice-blue eyes immediately reading the worry in my expression.

“What is it?” he asked, lowering his sword.

“The king wants to see me,” I said quietly. “Alone.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened, and I could see him calculating the political implications of refusing such a request.

We both knew he couldn’t stop me from going without creating an incident that would give Harald exactly the excuse he was looking for.

“Be careful,” he said finally. “Remember what we discussed. Whatever he offers you, whatever he threatens, don’t let him see your fear.”

I nodded, trying to project confidence I didn’t feel. “I’ll be fine.”

But as I walked through the castle’s winding corridors toward the king’s private chambers, I felt anything but fine.

The walls seemed to close in around me with each step, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into a trap that had been carefully laid just for me.

The king’s solar was a surprisingly intimate room, much smaller than the great hall where we usually saw him.

Rich tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of battles and conquests, and a fire crackled cheerfully in the stone hearth.

Harald sat behind a massive oak desk, studying what looked like maps and reports. He looked up when I entered, his face breaking into that charming smile that never quite reached his pale eyes.

“Astrid,” he said warmly, rising from his chair. “How lovely to see you. Please, sit. I’ve had wine brought – I thought we might have a civilized conversation.”

There was something about the way he said ‘civilized’ that made my skin crawl. I took the offered chair but ignored the cup of wine he pushed toward me.

After our experience at the inn, I had no intention of drinking anything I hadn’t seen prepared.

“You wished to speak with me, Your Majesty?” I said, keeping my voice steady.

“Indeed I did.” He settled back in his own chair, studying me with the intensity of a cat watching a mouse. “I wanted to discuss your future, my dear. Your options.”

“My options?” I repeated carefully.

“Yes. You see, I’ve been watching you these past few days, and I must say I’m impressed. You have qualities that are quite rare – intelligence, strength, the ability to command respect even in difficult circumstances. It would be a shame to see such potential wasted.”

I said nothing, waiting for him to reveal where this conversation was truly headed.

“The thing is,” he continued, swirling the wine in his cup, “I fear you may have tied yourself to the wrong man. Ragnar is… how shall I put this delicately… past his prime. His reputation precedes him, certainly, but reputations can be dangerous things. They make a man overconfident, careless. They make him believe he’s invincible when he’s actually quite vulnerable.”

The threat was subtle but unmistakable. Harald was telling me that Ragnar was in danger, that his position was precarious. And somehow, this was all leading up to an offer I wasn’t going to like.

“Ragnar has served you faithfully for years,” I said carefully. “Surely that counts for something.”

“Oh, it does, it does. But loyalty must be balanced against… other considerations. The good of the realm, the stability of the crown, the need to ensure that power remains in the right hands.” He leaned forward slightly, his pale eyes fixed on mine. “Tell me, Astrid, what do you know of Jarl Eriksson?”

The name was familiar – one of the younger jarls who had been at court during our visit.

A man perhaps thirty years old, with dark hair and ambitious eyes. Unmarried, wealthy, and completely devoted to the king.

“Very little,” I admitted.

“He’s quite taken with you,” Harald said with a smile that made my stomach turn. “Quite taken indeed. He’s asked me about the possibility of… shall we say, a change in your circumstances.”

Understanding hit me like a physical blow. “You want me to leave my husband for another man.”

“I want you to consider your options,” he corrected smoothly. “Marriage to Eriksson would offer you many advantages. He’s young, wealthy, politically astute. His lands are rich and his future bright. You would be a jarl’s wife, certainly, but more than that – you would be my protégé, my ally. I would ensure your comfort, your security, your influence at court.”

“And what would happen to Ragnar in this scenario?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.

Harald’s smile never wavered. “Ragnar would be free to pursue… other interests. Perhaps a nice quiet retirement somewhere far from court. Or perhaps he would choose to seek his fortune in foreign lands. The choice would be his, of course.”

The lies rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so convincingly, that I almost believed he meant them. But I could see the truth in his eyes. Ragnar wouldn’t be retiring quietly anywhere. If I accepted this offer, my husband would be dead within the month.

“That’s a generous offer,” I said slowly, buying time to think.

“It is indeed. And I hope you’ll consider it carefully. A woman of your intelligence must see the practical advantages of such an arrangement.”

He was watching me closely now, looking for any sign that his offer was being seriously considered.

This was the moment he had been building toward since we arrived at court – the chance to separate Ragnar from his greatest strength, to leave him isolated and vulnerable.

“May I ask,” I said, “what makes you think I would be interested in such an arrangement?”

“Come now,” Harald said with a chuckle. “We’re both adults here. Surely you don’t expect me to believe that your marriage to Ragnar was a love match? You were a prize of war, taken from your village and forced into a political alliance. No shame in that – such arrangements are common among our people. But now you have a chance to choose your own destiny, to align yourself with power that is rising rather than falling.”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with his own reasoning. “Besides, I’ve seen how the court ladies treat you. How they whisper and laugh behind their fans. Wouldn’t you prefer to be the one they fear rather than the one they mock?”

For a moment, I was tempted to pretend interest, to string him along and see what other information I could gather. But looking at his smug, self-satisfied face, I found I couldn’t stomach the deception.

Instead, I started to laugh.