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CHAPTER 32 - THE WOMAN THEY FORGOT

Author: PrettyAmaka
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-21 07:39:07

THE WOMAN THEY FORGOT

The corridor outside the council chamber felt narrower than it ever had.

Lucia walked alone.

No guards. No attendants. No Vanguard at her shoulder reminding her who watched, who listened, who whispered. Just the echo of her boots against stone and the weight of a decision pressing against her ribs.

Denounce him.

The words had followed her all night.

Denounce your son.

Erase him publicly.

Reclaim what you have lost.

Vanguard had spoken it softly in their chamber, as if it were mercy.

Lucia’s fingers brushed the hilt at her side.

She had almost agreed.

That was the part that sickened her.

Almost.

She stopped before the doors. Drew a slow breath. Thought of her son standing at Palermo’s gates. Thought of the way he had not bowed. Not begged.

Guerrero’s blood did not beg.

Nor did hers.

The doors opened.

Conversation died mid breath.

Councilmen turned. Some startled. Some amused. Some openly contemptuous.

Lucia stepped inside.

She did not sit.

She stood at the head of
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  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER 32 - THE WOMAN THEY FORGOT

    THE WOMAN THEY FORGOTThe corridor outside the council chamber felt narrower than it ever had.Lucia walked alone.No guards. No attendants. No Vanguard at her shoulder reminding her who watched, who listened, who whispered. Just the echo of her boots against stone and the weight of a decision pressing against her ribs.Denounce him.The words had followed her all night.Denounce your son.Erase him publicly.Reclaim what you have lost.Vanguard had spoken it softly in their chamber, as if it were mercy.Lucia’s fingers brushed the hilt at her side.She had almost agreed.That was the part that sickened her.Almost.She stopped before the doors. Drew a slow breath. Thought of her son standing at Palermo’s gates. Thought of the way he had not bowed. Not begged.Guerrero’s blood did not beg.Nor did hers.The doors opened.Conversation died mid breath.Councilmen turned. Some startled. Some amused. Some openly contemptuous.Lucia stepped inside.She did not sit.She stood at the head of

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER 31 - WHEN A QUEEN REFUSES TO BLEED QUIETLY

    WHEN A QUEEN REFUSES TO BLEED QUIETLYThe laughter did not fade quickly.It lingered in the council hall, thick and ugly, bouncing off stone like rot echoing in a closed wound. Scarred men slapped tables. A few councilors forced smiles they did not feel. Others stared straight ahead, knowing better than to react.Lucia stood.The sound was small. A chair sliding back.It cut the laughter in half.Vanguard did not move. He watched her from the corner of his eye, posture relaxed, one hand resting lightly on the arm of his chair. He looked like a man who already knew the ending.Lucia stepped forward.No crown. No raised voice.Just her.“You laugh,” she said calmly.The room quieted, confused by the lack of fire.“You laugh because you think power is loud,” Lucia continued. “Because you think cruelty is strength.”A scarred man scoffed. “We laugh because you hesitate.”Lucia’s gaze snapped to him. Sharp. Precise.“I hesitate,” she said, “because once words are spoken in this hall, they

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER 30- THE CITY CHOOSES POISON

    THE CITY CHOOSES ITS POISONThe silence after blood recognized blood did not bring relief.It pressed.It followed Lucia through corridors, clung to the stone walls, lingered in the breath of servants who lowered their eyes as she passed. Palermo had seen her step between steel. Palermo had seen hesitation where there had once been command.The city never forgot moments like that.Vanguard walked beside her through the palace halls, his stride even, unhurried, as though nothing of consequence had happened at the gates. Guards straightened when they saw him. Some avoided his gaze. Others met it too eagerly.He noticed everything.A captain approached and bowed. “Orders, my lord.”Vanguard did not slow. “Replace the men on the east wall.”“With whom.”“Men who did not falter.”The captain hesitated. “And the ones already stationed.”Vanguard stopped walking.The corridor seemed to narrow.“They are relieved,” Vanguard said mildly. “Effective immediately.”The captain swallowed. “Relieve

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - WHEN BLOOD RECOGNIZE BLOOD

    At the outskirts, firelight cut through fog.Lucia’s son stood among them, not elevated, not crowned. Just present.Men waited. Watching him. Waiting for direction.Enzo leaned against a cart, arm bound, eyes fierce. “You should not have come this close.”“They came to us first,” Lucia’s son replied.A man stepped forward. Broad shouldered, scarred. “Palermo will not open its gates.”Lucia’s son nodded. “I expected that.”Another spoke. “They say Vanguard rules beside your mother.”A murmur rippled.Lucia’s son raised a hand.Silence obeyed.“Palermo belongs to those who protect it,” he said. “Not those who claim it.”“What do we do,” someone asked.Lucia’s son looked toward the city lights. “We wait.”“For what?”“For them to make a mistake.”---Inside the council hall, voices rose.“Guerrero Valenti’s blood has returned,” one man argued.“He is illegitimate,” another spat. “A weapon smith playing king.”“A weapon smith with villages behind him,” a third countered.Lucia sat at the

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT - WHEN THE BLOOD ANSWERS

    Darkness did not take him gently.It slammed into Lucia’s son like a closed fist, dragging him under, pressing memories into his skull. Fire. Steel. His mother’s voice calling his name through stone halls. The smell of blood that never washed away.Then pain.Sharp. Immediate. Demanding.He sucked in a breath and choked.“Easy,” a voice said. Female. Controlled. Close. “If you tear the cut wider, you bleed out before we finish talking.”Lucia’s son forced his eyes open.Firelight swam above him. Shapes came into focus. Rough timber beams. The inside of a barn or storehouse. His wrists were bound, not tight enough to cut circulation but tight enough to remind him he was not in control.A woman knelt beside him.Not the one from before.This one wore her hair braided tight, eyes dark and assessing. A thin scar ran from her temple to her jaw.“You awake,” she said. “Good.”He tested the ropes once. She noticed. Smiled faintly.“Don’t,” she advised. “I tied those myself.”“Then untie them

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN - BLOOD DOES NOT ASK PERMISSION

    BLOOD DOES NOT ASK PERMISSIONNight fell without ceremony.No stars. No moon worth trusting. Just a low sky pressed close to the earth, heavy with smoke from villages that no longer slept peacefully.Lucia’s son stood at the edge of the clearing, firelight licking at his boots, listening to the silence that came before violence. He had learned to recognize it. Silence that was too clean. Too deliberate.Enzo broke it.“You should move,” Enzo said, voice low. “They are not sending scouts anymore.”Lucia’s son did not turn. “I know.”“They burned Caltaro today.”Lucia’s jaw tightened. “I know that too.”“They left the bodies where children could see them.”Lucia’s son finally faced him. “Say what you came to say.”Enzo held his gaze. “This ends with you standing still or standing tall. There is no hiding left.”Lucia’s son looked past him, toward the road. “Then stop asking me to disappear.”A sound cut through the night. Hooves. Not fast. Controlled.Enzo’s hand went to his blade. “The

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