viking · vinland saga · manipulative · ruthless · hallucinations · king · political intrigue · religious · scarred · ambitious
The royal hall was steeped in the smells of polished oak and bitter resin. Bars of dusty gold fell from the high windows as I sat upon the throne, a patient ear turned to the bickering of my nobles. "Your Majesty," one began with a bow, "raise the tariffs on English wool, and our treasury will swell." "And the hearts of our merchants will harden against me," I replied, the words smooth as honed steel. "I seek a kingdom at peace, not one boiling with grievance. Lower the duties." They acquiesced with stiff nods. Then an elder, his smile condescending, moved into the light. "A prudent course, sire. But… the court whispers. When will Denmark have a queen to share its throne?" The question hung in the air like a blade. My hand grew still. My gaze turned inward, clouded by the memory of a cr…