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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THE FALLEN QUEEN IS ABOUT TO RISE

Author: PrettyAmaka
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-15 19:19:14

Night had swallowed Palermo whole. The city lay restless under a thin veil of mist and rain, its lamplight fractured by the shimmer of puddles along cracked streets. In the Romano palazzo, the walls held their breath. Shadows leaned into corners, moving with secrets, with whispers of danger. Tonight would not be quiet.

Lucia Romano walked through her hallways, heels clicking on the polished stone, a predator in her own home. She had known tension, known fear, known chaos—but the weight pressing down now was different. She sensed it in the air: anticipation, excitement, and something deeper, darker. Something that stirred in the pulse of her blood.

Vanguard stood waiting in the library, framed by the low glow of a single lamp. His figure cut a perfect silhouette, broad-shouldered, deliberate, commanding. His eyes held hers, steady, calculating, and beneath that, something she could not name—something that made her pulse thrum.

“Good evening,” he said, voice low, smooth, carrying a
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  • 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

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY SIX - LUCIA ROMANO vs VANGUARD

    LUCIA ROMANO vs VANGUARD The council hall did not breathe anymore.It waited.Men stood in tight clusters, whispering behind their hands, eyes flicking toward the throne and then away again. No one laughed. No one sat unless ordered. Even the torches burned low, as if the fire itself feared being noticed.Lucia Romano sat upright on the throne, spine straight, chin lifted, face carved from restraint.Vanguard stood at her right.Not beside her.Above her.That was how it felt now.A councilman cleared his throat. “My Empress… the city is splitting.”Lucia did not answer.Another voice rose, sharper. “They speak his name openly in the markets.”A third added, “Guerrero Valenti’s blood is no longer whispered. It’s sung.”Vanguard turned slowly, his boots echoing. “Careful,” he said calmly. “Songs become funerals.”The hall went still.One man stepped forward, older, braver or more foolish than the rest. “With respect, Emperor, fear is no longer working.”Vanguard smiled. Not warmly. “F

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE - VANGUARD'S HUMILIATION

    The news arrived at dawn, carried by a boy who could barely stand.He collapsed at the edge of the fire, knees hitting dirt, breath tearing out of his chest in sharp, panicked pulls.“They’re dead,” the boy gasped. “The road village. Burned. Men, women. No questions asked.”Lucia’s son did not move.The men around the fire waited. No one spoke. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.“Who?” Lucia’s son asked.The boy swallowed hard. “Vanguard’s colors. No masks. They wanted witnesses.”Silence pressed down harder than sound.Lucia’s son slowly rose to his feet.“Where?” he asked.“South road,” the boy replied quickly. “The place with the olive stones. They said it was punishment.”Lucia’s son nodded once. Calm. Too calm.“Drink,” he told the boy. “Then leave.”The boy hesitated. “They said more would follow. They said Palermo does not negotiate with shadows.”Lucia’s son finally looked at him.“Palermo just did,” he said.The boy fled.The men around the fire shifted uneasily.One spoke. “T

  • THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS    CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR - THE NAME THAT FOLLOWS HIM

    THE NAME THAT FOLLOWS HIMThe first test came at dusk.Three men entered his shack without greeting. Their hands hovered near their belts. Their eyes searched the walls, the table, the blades.“You alone?” one asked.Lucia’s son hammered steel without looking up. “Do you see anyone else?”Another man circled. “We heard the bastard smith lived here.”Lucia’s son stopped hammering.The silence cut sharper than the steel.“Say that again,” he said calmly.The man laughed. “Or what?”Lucia’s son moved.He crossed the space in a breath, slammed the man into the wall, blade pressed under his chin.“Anyone who comes here,” he said softly, “comes as a customer. Or a corpse.”The other two froze.Lucia’s son released him and stepped back.“You want weapons,” he continued. “Pay. You want rumors, leave.”They left.He stood outside his shack, watching smoke rise from distant hills.Men gathered near him now. Not guards. Followers.“You staying?” one asked.“For now,” Lucia’s son replied.“And wh

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