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Barbarian: Chapter Five
Última atualização:
2025-11-15 05:21:36
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BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR
The council room had emptied, leaving Esmeralda alone with the lingering scent of ink, wax seals, and old stone. The torches along the walls flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the maps that sprawled across the table. The maps themselves were her playground, her tools, each line and symbol a potential weapon or leverage point. Her fingers traced the borders of Silvermark’s territory, the minor packs surrounding it, the roads, the rivers, and the hidden valleys. Each line sparked a calculation, a possibility, a plan that only she could see.Her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to her past. She could still remember the night her pack fell. The snow had been thick, muffling the sounds outside until the first screams shattered the silence. Her father’s voice calling her name, the sound of claws and teeth, the fire that swallowed their home… She had tried to protect her mother, tried to shield her siblings, but the invaders were relentless. She had watched as her parents we
BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE
The candlelight in the council chamber had long since faded, leaving the room bathed in the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the high windows. Shadows danced over the walls, twisting and stretching like silent observers, as if the chamber itself were listening to the whispered plots that still hung in the air.Esmeralda sat at the head of the table, her fingers intertwined, eyes fixed on the darkened window, but her mind was not on the moonlight. It never was. It was on every move, every player, every thread that could be manipulated to bring Silvermark crumbling into her hands.Her uncle, Elder Herold, leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, watching her with the patience of someone who had guided her since childhood. He had raised her after the Silvermark Alpha’s pack had taken everything from her—her family, her home, her life. And now, he remained the one steady piece in the chaos of her plotting. Yet even he could not see the full scope of her mind. She liked
BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO
The council chamber smelled of wax and aged wood, a quiet tension hanging over the long oak table where the members had gathered. Candlelight flickered, casting long, wavering shadows across the walls and the faces of the wolves who served her loyally—or at least, who believed they did. Esmeralda’s fingers tapped lightly against the polished surface, her mind moving faster than her lips could ever speak. Every detail mattered. Every expression counted. Every pause was a trap.Her uncle, Elder Herold, sat across from her, hands clasped and eyes calm, though she could feel the anticipation thrumming beneath his composure. He had always been her guide, her advisor, the one who had raised her when the world had abandoned her. And now, like always, he was a pillar she could lean on—but she could not let him see how much she leaned. Not completely. Not yet.“Alpha Vaelthorn is faltering,” she began, her voice low but commanding, carrying easily through the room. “He has yet to catch his sis
BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE.
Esmeralda stood alone in her chambers, staring at her reflection in the tall bronze mirror beside the window. The light from the afternoon sun crept in slowly, touching her pale skin and the dark silk of her gown, but it did nothing to warm the coldness inside her chest.Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table as memories pressed against her mind like unwanted guests. No matter how many days passed, the image of Princess Dana still lived in the corners of her thoughts, sharp and unforgiving.She did not regret what had happened.Not truly.Regret was for the weak, for those who hesitated. Esmeralda had never been weak. She had learned long ago that power was never given freely, it had to be taken quietly and without mercy. Princess Dana had stood in her way for too long. Always watching her. Always correcting her. Always reminding her that she was nothing more than a lady of the court and not the queen she believed she should be.Dana had seen too much.And that was her gr
BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SEVENTY
Fredrick did not like running errands in daylight.Darkness hid sins better. Darkness made men like him feel less seen, less judged. But Esmeralda had asked him to go now, not later, and when Esmeralda asked for something, Fredrick obeyed without question. His loyalty to her was not gentle. It was sharp. It was dangerous. It was the kind of devotion that did not ask whether something was right or wrong. It only asked whether it pleased her.He pulled the hood of his cloak lower as he left the inner paths of the pack and moved toward the forest road that led away from the main settlement. The path to the abandoned cottage was narrow and forgotten, swallowed by tall weeds and cracked stones. Few wolves traveled that way anymore. It led to nothing but rot and silence.Which made it perfect.Fredrick’s boots crushed dry leaves as he walked. The wind whispered through the trees, brushing against his cloak like curious fingers. His mind, however, was far from the forest. It was with Esmeral
BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses. BARBARIAN: CHAPTER SIXTY NINE.
The forest pressed close around them, shadows crawling over every branch, every broken root. Alvar’s chest rose and fell like a bellows, each breath thick with smoke and sweat. His eyes flicked to every movement, every rustle in the undergrowth, but his mind refused to let him think about the attackers alone. It was Caierre. Always Caierre. The healer who had stood behind him one moment and vanished the next, swept away into the chaos of smoke and fire, leaving only the memory of his sharp, distant eyes.Alvar’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, leather biting into his palms. “I cannot… I cannot let him—” His teeth ground together. He stopped the words before they could escape. The council’s rules, the laws of Silvermark, all the duty and honor he had wrapped around himself like armor, did not matter now. Nothing mattered except the image of Caierre standing on that cliff edge, cornered, surrounded by enemies. Alive, or dead. He could not know. And that uncertainty
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