RAGNAR’S POV

The raven arrived at dawn, its black wings cutting through the grey morning sky like an omen of death. I watched from my chamber window as it landed on the wooden platform where we received messages, a rolled parchment tied to its leg with royal blue ribbon.

My blood turned cold the moment I saw that ribbon. Only one person used that particular shade of blue for his messages, and hearing from him was never good news.

King Harald the Ruthless. My king, my overlord, and the most dangerous man in all the northern realms.

I made my way down to the courtyard, moving faster than I wanted to but unable to help myself.

The raven cawed once as I approached, its beady black eyes fixed on me with what seemed like malicious intelligence. Ravens were sacred to Odin, messengers between the world of men and the realm of the gods. This one felt like it was bringing word of my doom.

The parchment crackled as I unrolled it, the royal seal broken to reveal Harald’s familiar sharp handwriting. The message was brief, as his communications always were, but every word hit me like a blow from a war hammer.

“Ragnar Thornegrim, Jarl of the Northern Shores. You are summoned to appear before me at the royal court within one moon’s turning. Come alone. Do not disappoint me. – Harald, King of the Northern Realms.”

I read the message three times, hoping I had somehow misunderstood. But the words remained the same, and their meaning was clear as a blade to the throat.

Harald wanted me at court, and when the king summoned you, it was rarely for pleasant conversation.

“Bad news?” Jovna’s voice came from behind me. My second-in-command had approached while I was reading, his scarred face already creased with concern.

I handed him the parchment without a word. He read it quickly, his expression growing grimmer with each line.

“When did you last see the king?” he asked quietly.

“Three years ago,” I replied. “At the autumn gathering. He seemed pleased with my reports then.”

But that had been before Astrid. Before I had started acting like a man with something to lose instead of a warrior with nothing but his reputation and his sword.

“What do you think he wants?” Jovna asked, though we both knew the answer.

News traveled fast in our world, carried by traders and raiders, bards and merchants.

Word of my marriage would have reached Harald’s court weeks ago, along with stories about how the fearsome Wolf of the Northern Seas had gone soft over a foreign woman.

How I had nearly killed one of my own men for insulting her. How I spent more time thinking about her smile than planning my next raid.

Kings like Harald didn’t tolerate weakness in their jarls. They couldn’t afford to. A weak vassal was a liability, a crack in the foundation that could bring down everything they had built.

“He knows,” I said simply.

Jovna nodded grimly. “About the girl?”

“About all of it. About how she’s changed me.” The admission tasted bitter in my mouth, but there was no point in denying the truth. “Someone has been telling him stories.”

We both knew who that someone was likely to be. Magnus Ironfist had disappeared three days after our confrontation, along with two of his closest friends. I had assumed they had simply left my service rather than face further punishment.

Now I realized they had probably gone straight to the king with tales of their jarl’s weakness.

“It could be nothing,” Jovna said, but his tone suggested he didn’t believe it any more than I did. “A routine summons. Maybe he just wants to discuss the spring raiding season.”

I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “When has Harald ever summoned anyone for routine discussions? When has he ever done anything that wasn’t calculated to serve his own purposes?”

The answer was never, and we both knew it. King Harald the Ruthless hadn’t earned his name by being reasonable or forgiving. He had carved out his kingdom with blood and terror, and he maintained it the same way. Jarls who disappointed him had a tendency to disappear, their lands redistributed to more reliable vassals.

“What will you do?” Bjorn asked.

I rolled up the parchment and tucked it into my belt. “What choice do I have? I’ll go to court and face whatever he has planned.”

“It’s a trap,” Jovna said bluntly. “You know that, don’t you? He’s not summoning you for a friendly chat about your marriage.”

Of course it was a trap. Everything Harald did was a trap of one kind or another. The question was what kind of trap it would be, and whether I would be walking out of his court alive.

“Maybe,” I said. “But refusing his summons would be worse than walking into whatever he has planned. At least this way I have a chance to defend myself.”

Jovna looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew as well as I did that defying a royal summons was tantamount to declaring rebellion. And I wasn’t ready for that kind of war, not yet.

I would need to leave within the week to reach the royal court in time, which meant arranging for the defense of my stronghold, making sure my affairs were in order, and deciding which of my men to take with me.

The message had said to come alone, but I wasn’t fool enough to travel without any protection. I would take a small guard, enough to show respect for my position but not so many as to seem like I was bringing an army to threaten the king.

I was in my chambers reviewing maps and making final preparations, when Astrid appeared in my doorway. She had been quieter than usual all day, and I could see the worry lines around her eyes that told me she knew something was wrong.

“The servants are saying you received a message from the king,” she said without preamble.

I set down the map I had been studying and looked at her. She was wearing a deep green dress, the one that brought out the color of her eyes, and her hair was braided with the silver threads I had given her. She looked beautiful and strong and infinitely precious, everything I was about to risk losing.

“Word travels fast,” I said.

“Is it true? Are you going to court?”

There was no point in lying to her. She would find out soon enough, and I had promised myself that I would try to be honest with her whenever possible.

“Yes,” I said simply. “I leave in three days.”

I saw the fear flicker across her face before she masked it with that careful composure she wore like armor. “Why? What does he want?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I can guess.”

She stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? Because of our marriage.”

The pain in her voice made my chest tighten. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that this had nothing to do with her. But we both knew that would be a lie.

“Partly,” I said. “Kings don’t like it when their jarls start acting unpredictably.”

“And falling in love is unpredictable,” she said quietly.

The word ‘love’ hung in the air between us, unspoken until now but present in everything we had shared. I hadn’t said it to her yet, hadn’t admitted it even to myself, but hearing it from her lips made something warm and terrifying unfurl in my chest.

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

She was quiet for a long moment, and I could see her thinking, processing the implications of what was happening.

“You’re not going alone,” she said finally.

I blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. “What?”

“I said you’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

The declaration hit me like a physical blow. “Absolutely not.”

Her green eyes flashed with the stubborn fire I had come to know so well. “You can’t stop me.”

“Astrid, you don’t understand. This isn’t a social visit. The king didn’t summon me to court so we could have pleasant conversations over dinner. This is dangerous.”

“All the more reason for me not to let you face it alone,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in that defensive gesture that meant she had already made up her mind.

“The message specifically said to come alone,” I pointed out.

“The message was addressed to you, not to me,” she countered. “And I’m not one of your warriors who has to follow your orders. I’m your wife.”

The way she said ‘wife’ made my heart skip a beat. It was the first time she had claimed the title without any bitterness or resentment, the first time she had said it like it meant something to her.

“My wife who I want to keep safe,” I said desperately. “Astrid, you have no idea what Harald is capable of. He’s not like other men. He’s completely without mercy or honor when it suits his purposes.”

“Then why would I let you face him without me?” she asked. “Do you think I could just sit here in this stronghold, wondering if you’re coming back? Wondering if I’m about to become a widow before I’ve even had a chance to be a proper wife?”

The raw emotion in her voice undid me. I could see the fear she was trying to hide, could hear the love she was finally admitting to in every word.

But I could also see the determination in her eyes, the steel backbone that had made her stand up to me in that healing house all those weeks ago. She wasn’t going to be talked out of this, no matter what arguments I made.

“It’s too dangerous,” I tried one more time.

“Everything about our situation is dangerous,” she replied. “But we’re stronger together than apart. You know that.”

She was right, and that was what terrified me. We were stronger together, but that also made us more vulnerable. If something happened to her because of my choices, because of the enemies I had made, I would never forgive myself.

But looking at her face, seeing the fierce love and loyalty blazing in her green eyes, I knew I had already lost this argument.

“I will not be left behind,” she said, her voice carrying the absolute certainty of someone who had made a decision and would not be swayed. “Whatever happens at court, we face it together.”