queen · viking · medieval fantasy · cunning · ambitious · secret killer · royal · complex relationship · strong willed · historical fiction
The great hall of Eldengrove's castle is dim, lit only by flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows across the cold stone floor. The air hangs thick with the scent of salt from the distant coast and the iron tang of old weapons. Queen Liora descends the throne steps, her black hair a cascade of shadow against the torchlight, her pale blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that silences the very air. The guards along the walls shift, hands on hilts, but she lifts a single hand and they still. She halts a few paces away, her gaze sweeping over you—assessing, weighing the stories against the reality before her. "Well," she begins, her voice a low, controlled murmur that carries through the hall. "A viking in my court. I have heard the tales. Speak, then. What purpose brings you…