Chapter 110: The Queen’s Unbridled Fury.

Chapter 110

The afternoon sun shone with a lovely, brilliant radiance over the royal palace, illuminating the ivory towers and gilded archways in a breathtaking display of autumnal warmth though autumn was yet to arrive, it sone nonetheless.

Yet beneath the shimmering exterior, the air within the stone corridors was suffocatingly heavy, choked with a dark, toxic tension that put every servant and guard on high alert. The joyous lingering remnants of the previous day’s wedding had vanished completely, replaced by a terrible, silent panic.

Deep within her lavish private quarters, Crown Princess Maria stood in the center of the room, her trembling hands clawing at her own styled hair as her wide, bloodshot eyes stared down at the crisp parchment resting on her vanity. "No, no, no... this cannot be happening," she muttered, her voice cracking as ragged, shallow gasps escaped her chest.

Her mind raced in a frantic, unravelling loop as she pictured the whispers already sweeping through the capital streets. In a single morning, her carefully constructed facade of saintly virtue and innocent grace had been utterly shattered, dragged through the mud before the entire realm.

Sensory awareness crashed over her like a freezing wave, making her skin crawl as she caught sight of her personal maidservants standing near the heavy velvet drapes. Their heads were bowed, but Maria could feel the sharp, contempt-filled judgment wafting off them like a foul odor. They knew. Everyone in the castle knew. The humiliating truth of her malicious, unprovoked attack on her step-sister was out for all to read.

Panicked fury erupted within her chest, and she whirled around, her pale face contorting into a mask of wild rage. "What are you staring at? Leave! I said LEAVE!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the high stone ceiling. The maids flinched violently, curtsying in a frantic blur of skirts before scurrying out the door and pulling the heavy oak barrier shut behind them.

Left alone in the deafening silence, Maria snatched the scandal gazette from the table, her hands shaking so violently the paper rattled. She scanned the bold, unrelenting print again, searching desperately for some flaw, some misunderstanding that could explain how her triumphant narrative had been turned into a nightmare. In her prophetic visions, the late Count Varenne’s dark dealings were supposed to serve as the stepping stone for the absolute undoing of Sigrid. The Count was destined to fall, and in his desperate bid for survival, betray her saving himself and dragging her name further into the mud. Why had it not happened that way? Why had reality fractured so drastically from what she had foreseen?

A sudden, sharp realization struck Maria like a physical blow, making her breath catch in her throat. Soren. It was Duke Soren. In her visions, Sigrid had stood alone and unprotected before the royal court, an easy target for Ragnar’s righteous authority. But the Duke’s sudden, formidable presence had disrupted everything, shielding Sigrid from the consequences and forcing Ragnar to execute the Count prematurely to cover his own tracks.

With a raw, guttural cry, Maria tore the parchment into jagged ribbons, scattering the shreds across the polished floorboards. "How could this be?!" she screamed into the empty room, her knuckles turning bone-white as her fists clenched. Her mind conjured the image of Sigrid’s cold, beautiful face at the tea house, and pure venom flooded her veins. "Sigrid... that vile, scheming witch! How dare she! How dare she ruin everything!"

A sudden, cautious knock rattled the chamber door, shattering Maria’s violent reverie. She whirled around, her heart pounding against her ribs. "What is it?!" she snarled toward the wood.

The door creaked open an inch, exposing the pale, terrified face of a young palace courier who shrank back at her terrifying demeanor. "M-Your Highness... Her Majesty the Queen commands your immediate presence in her royal chambers," the girl stammered out, her voice trembling.

The summons hit Maria like a heavy iron weight plunging into the pit of her stomach. Dread, cold and absolute, washed over her, extinguishing her fiery rage and replacing it with a sickening terror. Queen Evelyn had barely tolerated Maria even during the wedding preparations, viewing her as an opportunistic commoner elevated only by Ragnar’s infatuation. To face the Queen now, while the entire capital laughed at the crown’s humiliation, was a prospect that turned Maria’s knees to water.

Smoothing down her wrinkled gown with frantic, awkward sweeps of her hands, Maria tried to force her breathing into a slow, steady rhythm as she walked the long, suffocating corridors toward the royal wing. She repeatedly rehearsed her defense, convincing herself that if she wept softly and played the fragile, misled victim, she could manipulate the Queen just as easily as she manipulated Ragnar. Reaching the heavy double doors of the Queen’s sanctuary, Maria took a deep, shuddering breath, pasted on a look of contrite innocence, and stepped into the room. Before she could even curtsy or utter a word of greeting, a harsh, whistling wind rushed past her ear, followed instantly by the crack of a brutal hand striking her face.

The force of the blow snapped Maria’s head sideways, sending her stumbling back against the doorframe. Her cheek erupted in a white-hot, stinging fire, and her eyes watered from the sheer shock of the impact. Clutching her swelling face, she looked up in horror to find Queen Evelyn standing over her, looking like the very avatar of hell unleashed.

The Queen’s eyes burned with a pure, murderous malice that made Maria’s blood run cold. "You absolute, brainless fool," the Queen spat, her voice dripping with lethal contempt. Maria opened her mouth to plead, to offer some desperate excuse, but the terrifying glare in Evelyn’s eyes instantly choked the words in her throat. "How dare you drag the royal name into the gutter with your pathetic, childish vendettas! I knew you were involved in that disgraceful incident with the Duchess, but I had no idea your stupidity was the spark that ignited the entire disaster!"

"Y-Your Majesty—" Maria squeaked, her voice trembling pitiably.

"Silence! Speak another word and I will have you tossed into the dark depths of the dungeon before the sun sets!" Evelyn commanded, her arm sweeping outward in a sharp, dismissive gesture. From the side of the room, Crown Prince Ragnar stepped forward, his face pale and his posture defensive. "Mother, please, do not speak to her in such a—"

Before Ragnar could finish his sentence, Evelyn whirled around and delivered a devastating, backhanded strike across his cheek. The sharp crack echoed through the vast chamber. It was clearly not the first blow he had received today, as his jaw was already reddened and bruised. "Fools are not permitted to speak in my presence!" the Queen roared, towering over her son with an terrifying authority that forced the Crown Prince to flinch back. "Do you possess no shame whatsoever, Ragnar? You allowed this lowborn, scheming fool to drag you into making baseless, treasonous accusations against a powerful Duchess! You attempted to detain the Duke’s wife without a shred of credible evidence, and then threatened her life when your incompetence was exposed! Have you forgotten every lesson in diplomacy I ever drilled into your thick skull?"

Ragnar rubbed his bruised jaw, his eyes flashing with stubborn, foolish pride despite his mother’s rage. "I knew there were no impartial witnesses, Mother! And besides, Sigrid is merely Soren’s bought wife—she does not command my respect, nor does she deserve it!"

Evelyn let out a long, exasperated sigh, though her expression hardened into a terrifyingly cold scowl as she stepped closer to her son. "It matters not how you view her, you incompetent boy! The public views her as a tragic, refined victim of royal tyranny! Her reputation has skyrocketed into the heavens as a pitied damsel, while the crown’s prestige has plummeted into the filth!"

The Queen turned her back on them, pacing toward the tall stained-glass window as her mind raced with silent, agonizing fury. How dare that insolent Sigrid defy my explicit warning? Evelyn thought, her chest heaving with silent rage. We struck a bargain. I granted her life and permitted her quiet retreat to the North, yet she leaks these treacherous documents to the gazettes nonetheless. She harbors no dread of the throne... she shall pay dearly for this insolence.

Turning back to face the young couple, Evelyn looked upon them with unbridled disgust. "The damage is done, and the public demands blood. You two shall do absolutely nothing. I will handle the damage control and suppress what I can, but you are both strictly forbidden from leaving the palace grounds until further notice." She glared directly at Maria, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "If it were entirely up to me, girl, I would have thrown you out onto the streets this very hour. But since your disgrace is now tied to my son’s crown, you will use your own hands to repair this image when I command it. Now get out of my sight before I lose what little patience I have left!"

Without waiting for a second command, Ragnar turned on his heel and strode out of the room in a blind, furious hurry, leaving Maria to stumble behind him as fast as her heavy skirts would allow. She chased him down the long, echoing corridors, tears finally spilling over her lashes as she called out his name in a raspy, desperate croak. "Ragnar! Please, wait for me!" He ignored her entirely until they finally reached the privacy of their grand bedchamber. The moment the doors slammed shut, Maria reached out to touch his arm, her voice shaking. "Ragnar, my love—"

Before her fingers could brush his sleeve, Ragnar turned with a snarl and brutally shoved her away, slapping her reaching hand aside with sickening force. Maria gasped in pain, stumbling back onto the carpet as she looked up into his face. The adoration and warmth that had filled his eyes for weeks had vanished entirely, replaced by a dark, volatile malice that made her freeze in absolute terror. "You utter, pathetic fool!" Ragnar spat, pacing the floor like a caged beast as his hands gripped his hair. "Look at what you have done to me! The entire kingdom mocks my name! My mother treats me like an incompetent child, and my father will surely strip me of my duties when he returns! I have ruined my standing, my honor, and my future, all because I was foolish enough to listen to your hysterical, baseless accusations!"

He marched up to her, looming over her trembling form as his face contorted in rage. "This was your grand scheme all along, wasn’t it? To make a complete laughingstock of me, to watch me fall from grace while you played the martyr! Well, what do I have left now, Maria? Answer me!"

Maria shrank against the heavy carved wood of the bedpost, her chest heaving as terror paralyzed her throat. "N-No, Ragnar, please... I didn’t know! I swear to you, I only wanted to protect you from her!"

Ragnar raised his fist and slammed it violently into the stone wall inches from her head, causing her to squeak in absolute horror as dust rained down on her hair. "You will pay for this," he growled, his breath hot against her forehead. "I will make you suffer for dragging me into your filth."

Desperation, raw and primal, surged through Maria’s mind as she searched for any lifeline to save herself from his wrath. "It was Sigrid!" she suddenly shrieked, her voice echoing frantically off the walls.

Ragnar paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he glared down at her. "What did you say?"

Maria scrambled to her feet, clutching his arms with frantic, desperate strength as she poured all her venom into her words. "It was Sigrid’s fault, Ragnar! Can’t you see? She knew I suspected her, so she deliberately set a trap to make us look foolish! She is the one who leaked those documents to the gazettes to ruin our wedding day! She orchestrated this entire scandal to destroy your reputation out of pure, unadulterated jealousy because you chose me over her!"

Ragnar froze, his brow furrowing as he processed her words. The toxic lie slipped seamlessly into his bruised ego, feeding his desperate need to shift the blame away from his own incompetence. "Sigrid..." he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as the thought took root. "I... I should never have allowed her to leave the capital alive. She engineered all of this."

Seeing the shift in his demeanor, Maria pressed her advantage, her eyes burning with malicious triumph. "Yes, my love! She has repeatedly humiliated you before the court, and now she has turned the entire populace against us! She deserves to suffer for her arrogance, and now that Duke Soren has marched off to war, she is entirely defenseless in the North! This is the perfect time to strike her down!"

A dark, twisted smile slowly spread across Ragnar’s face as the rage within him found a new, singular target. "Yes... you are right, Maria. It is entirely her fault. She is envious of our happiness, envious of your crown, and she seeks to sabotage everything we have built. I will make that arrogant wench bleed for what she has done to my name."

The terrifying malice in his posture melted away, replaced by the familiar, blind obsession that had bound him to Maria in the first place. He reached out, gently taking her face in his hands and pulling her close against his chest. "Forgive me, my love," he whispered softly, kissing the top of her head as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I lost my temper. You did not deserve my harshness. It is Sigrid who will pay for pushing us to this brink."

Maria leaned into his embrace, her heart swelling with euphoric relief as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. A vengeful smirk curved her lips, hidden against the rich fabric of his doublet. Sigrid deemed she could destroy me with a pathetic gazette, Maria thought, her hatred burning brighter than before. She nearly drove my prince to turn his blade upon me. For that, I shall not rest until I see her stripped of her grand title, dragged through the capital gates in iron chains, and executed before the very realm she sought to weaponize against us.