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CHAPTER NINETEEN - NEW RULERS OF PALERMO
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2025-12-15 19:40:30
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THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 39 - THE DEAD DO NOT LAUGH—UNTIL THEY DO
THE DEAD DO NOT LAUGH—UNTIL THEY DOThe rumor reached Lucia before the truth ever could.It came carried by fear, by excitement, by men who spoke too fast because they wanted to be the first to say it.“Your son is dead.”Lucia stood by the tall window of her chamber when the words arrived. Morning light spilled across the marble floor, pale and calm, betraying nothing of the chaos crawling through Palermo’s streets.She did not turn.She did not ask questions.She did not breathe faster.“Poison,” the messenger continued nervously. “In the camp. His men turned on each other. Enzo dragged him into the tent but—”“That will be all,” Lucia said quietly.The messenger hesitated. “My Empress… should we—”“You may leave,” Lucia repeated, still facing the window.The door closed.Lucia remained where she was, fingers resting lightly on the stone ledge. From the outside, she looked like a woman absorbing loss with cold dignity. A mother hardened by power. A ruler already moving on.Inside he
THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 38 -WHEN THE MASKS FALL
WHEN THE MASKS FALLThe camp had been alive moments ago. Fires crackled, embers danced, laughter erupted around the roasting deer. The scent of meat, smoke, and ale wrapped the men in a deceptive comfort.And then the cup shattered the illusion.The chicken collapsed first, twitching violently. Blood poured from its eyes, its beak, and its cloaca. Men recoiled, stumbling backward in horror, screams slicing through the night air.Latina’s chest rose and fell slowly. Her lips curved into a triumphant smile, but inside her, something sharp pricked at her resolve. This was supposed to be subtle—his death without suspicion. Yet now, in the chaos, the truth had broken free.From the corner of her eye, she saw him—the man whose very presence demanded war. Lucia’s son convulsed violently, collapsing to the dirt with a thud that shook the circle of men around him. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth. His breaths came shallow, ragged, irregular.Enzo’s voice tore through the panic like s
THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 37 - THE POISON
THE NIGHT THAT SMILES BEFORE IT KILLSThe corridor breathed silence.Vanguard moved through it like a shadow that had learned the palace by heart. The stones were cold beneath his boots, the torches dimmed low enough to cast more darkness than light. He had just left a room still warm with stolen closeness, the kind that tasted of danger and familiarity.He reached the corner.Then—“Sneaking again?”The voice stopped him mid-step.Lucia’s.Low. Calm. Certain.Vanguard’s body reacted before his mind did. His shoulders stiffened. His hand flexed at his side. He turned slowly, schooling his face into something neutral, something amused.“I was not sneaking,” he said evenly. “I was checking on the guards.”Lucia stood a few paces away, dressed simply, her presence heavier than the stone walls themselves. She did not move closer. She did not need to.“Checking,” she repeated softly. “Through the back corridor?”Vanguard lifted his chin. “There have been rumors. I wanted to ensure nothing
THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 36 - THE EVIL THAT WALKETH IN THE NIGHT.
THE EVIL THAT WALKETH IN THE NIGHT The camp had not yet settled when Enzo vanished into the dark. Lucia’s son stood where Enzo had left him, staring at the empty path, jaw tight. The laughter behind him still rang, loud and careless, but something sharp pressed against his chest. A sting. Brief. Easily ignored. He turned back to the fire. “Enough,” he said. “Drink. Sleep. Tomorrow we move.” The men obeyed quickly, relief washing over them. Fear forgotten. Suspicion buried under wine and noise. Latina watched it all. She watched how easily the night swallowed Enzo. She watched how easily the others followed their leader’s laughter instead of their instincts. And she smiled. Not openly. Just enough for herself. Lucia observed from the palace balcony, wrapped in silk and shadows. The wind teased her hair, carrying distant echoes of laughter from the encampment below the hill. She closed her eyes. So the cup had failed. Interesting. Her lips curved slightly. Failure ofte
THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 35 - THE CUP THAT DECIDES FATE
THE CUP THAT DECIDES FATEThe bush was quiet in the way traps were quiet.Latina felt it the moment she stepped through the narrow path. No birds. No insects. The air pressed close, thick and watchful. Every rustle of leaves sounded like a warning. Her hand hovered near the hilt of her dagger, though she did not need it. Not yet.Vanguard stepped out from behind the trees, shadows stretching across his face.“Late,” he said, voice low, edged with something she had not felt in years.“I came the moment your message reached me,” Latina replied evenly, her eyes scanning every detail of his posture, the tension in his shoulders. “You never summon me without reason.”His gaze held hers. Dark. Sharp. Not lustful. Not patient. Something raw, deliberate, lethal.“Things have changed,” Vanguard said, and it was not a suggestion.Latina’s hand brushed against her belt. “You don’t call me into the bush to discuss weather,” she said lightly, but her mind was calculating.He took a step closer, fi
THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS CHAPTER 34 - WHEN PROXIMITY BECOMES POWER
WHEN PROXIMITY BECOMES POWERThe strike ended before dawn, but the unease did not.Lucia’s son stood at the edge of the ravine, watching smoke thin into the morning sky. The supply wagons burned low, wheels cracked, grain spilling uselessly into the dirt. It should have felt like victory. Clean. Satisfying.Instead, it felt measured.“Too easy,” Enzo said behind him.Lucia’s son did not turn. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed as if the answer might rise from the ashes if he stared long enough.“They pulled back early,” Enzo continued. “No reinforcements. No pursuit.”Lucia’s son nodded once. He had noticed the same thing. Vanguard never bled without intent.Footsteps approached from the right.The girl stopped beside him without being called.“They wanted the route blocked, not destroyed,” she said calmly. “Delay. Confusion. Not starvation.”Lucia’s son glanced at her. “You’re certain.”She met his eyes without hesitation. “Yes.”Enzo’s gaze sharpened. “You speak as if you were there w
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