“You threatened everyone I knew, everyone who was dear to me-” Does he not realize the cruelty of his actions on a young girl?
“Servants,” he cackles even in his predicament, “who had no business mingling with the heir apparent to the throne. I strove to harden you, girl, and yet you still churned out softer than silk.”
“Harden me?” She gapes as if he is a creature from the Abyss. “I was just a little girl you kept so much knowledge from.”
“Your mother's blood was a necessary means to unite the kingdom. Why do you delude yourself into this farce that you’re extraordinary? That the world owes you happiness?”
“Never!” She feels the seams of her spirit tear as her fists tremble. “Never have I felt anything more than a tool. Do you know who treated me like a princess, a future Queen? King Thord Hilmirsson of Salt.”
Her words fall silently across the field as the crowd of onlookers thickens. Ceowald merely stares unblinking up at his daughter.
“You were a tool for Thord just as you were for me-”
“No!” She jabs a finger in his face. “You do not get to speak ill of that man. He was more of a father to me than you ever were!” The words spit like fire from her lips.
Ceowald scoffs.
“Did you kill King Thord?” She jumps straight to the point, careful to watch his blank expression.
Does he have it in him to kill a man?
Her chest seems unwilling to exhale while she waits for his response.
At last, the King of the Ridge narrows his eyes. “I protected my people.”
She feels as if a chunk of ice settles deep in her core.
But she knows.
Deep down, she knows that her father orchestrated much of the heartbreak in her life. She squeezes her eyes shut and struggles to contain her shaky breaths.
“How was that benevolent man such a risk to the Ridge?” Avina’s nails dig into her palm to help maintain her composure.
“He wished for Treland to fall to Sigvid, who will destroy you, Avina. You mean nothing to him.” He sighs as if this conversation is beneath him. “Thord was guided by nonsense about a blessing from the gods related to your births..”
Avina feels her jaw drop.
The gods foretold their significance to Thord.
Sigvid cracks his neck as he grips Ceowald’s neck with one hand, lifting him off the snowy ground. “Let me get this straight,” he growls, “you killed my father because you disliked me?”
Ceowald snorts in his bone-grating, condescending manner. “I dislike you because you are a monster of the Abyss with an anger issue. I killed your father so I could ensure my bloodline fell to the likes of King Thrain and not Prince Sigvid.”
Sigvid’s hand clutching Ceowald’s column tightens until her father begins sputtering. She lurches forward as she watches Sigvid slam him into the snow. He swiftly removes one of his blackwood axes and tosses it, sticking the edge into the frozen ground only a hair's width from Ceowald’s nose.
“Thank the gods that I am not the one to decide your fate, you weak fucking asshole. I would ensure you suffer until summer before I hack off your limbs and feed you to a pack of wolves.” Sigvid jerks his blackwood handle from the ground.
“My Queen, I apologize for the interruption.” Sigvid places a hand on her shoulder before kissing her lips. “You are worth it. You mean everything to me.” He kisses her again. “Please continue.” He whispers.
“I see you taught your hound to heel.” Ceowald smirks.
Her warrior lifts his chin to her father. “Avina is my equal, and I will rip the throat out of anyone who fucking hurts her, Leto.”
She nods to Sigvid, who steps away. She rolls her shoulders back to ease the tension in her back.
“You do not deny you murdered King Thord?” She projects her voice.
“I would do it again. But next time, I would have Sigvid assassinated as well.”
