Chapter 52: chapter 52

In the heart of Oslo, the kingdom was plunged into a state of utter shock and disbelief. The news of the king’s sudden and unexpected death spread like wildfire, sending waves of fear and confusion through the palace walls.The king's men, who had been stationed outside his tent throughout the night, stood frozen, their faces pale with disbelief. They had been there—watchful, alert, vigilance, the unthinkable had happened. The king was dead. And no one could comprehend how.It was Caspian, the king’s son, who made the grim discovery. Having arrived at the tent to seek an audience with his father after Ivar’s escape, he was unprepared for the sight that awaited him. Pushing aside the heavy flaps of the tent, his breath caught in his throat. There, on the cold, hard ground, lay his father—lifeless, his once-powerful presence reduced to a still, pale corpse. Caspian noticed the tear in the ceiling of the tent. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the long, jagged opening that marred the heavy fabric. The edges were frayed, as though something—or someone—had forcefully ripped through it from above.For a moment, Caspian couldn't move. His mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. His father's throat was slit, the wound deep and unforgiving, and the blood had long since pooled around him, staining the fine silk of his royal robe.His breath caught, and a chilling realization settled in his chest. He knew exactly who did this. There was no doubt in his mind."Ivar," he murmured, his voice cold and filled with restrained fury.King Magnus's death brought deep sorrow and uncertainty to the kingdom of Oslo. Whispers of his brutal murder spread like wildfire, and with it came an eerie silence that hung heavily over the castle. Yet, amid the mourning, the people found solace in the ascension of his son, Caspian, to the throne. Unlike his father, who ruled with greed and cruelty, Caspian was known to be kind, wise, and generous. The people welcomed him with open hearts, hoping for a reign of peace and prosperity.But peace was far from Caspian's mind. As he sat upon the throne, the weight of his father's death pressed heavily on his shoulders. The image of his father's lifeless body, his throat savagely slit, haunted his every waking moment. But what stung Caspian the most was not just his father's death—it was Amelia. The girl he had secretly cherished. The girl Ivar had taken with him.Caspian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his throne. His heart burned with vengeance. I will not rest until I see his head on a spike, Caspian vowed to himself.Days turned into weeks, and Caspian spared no effort in his search. He sent his most skilled men to every corner of the kingdom—through the dense forests, along the rivers, and into neighboring towns. But there was no trace of Amelia. No sign of Ivar. Even Amelia’s family had no clue of her whereabouts, and that only deepened the ache in Caspian’s heart.One evening, Caspian summoned his most trusted advisor, General Alrick. The tension in the room was palpable as Caspian stared out of the high windows, his gaze fixed on the fading daylight."Any news?" Caspian asked, his voice cold and distant.Alrick hesitated before answering, his tone heavy with regret. "No, my king. The search parties returned empty-handed. No sign of Lady Amelia… or Ivar."Caspian's jaw tightened, his fury barely contained. "How is that possible? She wouldn’t just disappear. He must have hidden her somewhere."Alrick  lowered his gaze. "Perhaps… she went with him willingly, my lord."Silence fell like a heavy stone in the chamber. Caspian’s eyes darkened, and his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. "No," he said through gritted teeth. "Amelia would never choose him. He must have bewitched her… forced her to leave."Alrick swallowed hard. "What would you have us do now, my king?"Caspian turned, his expression hardened with resolve. "Search every village, every forest, and every corner of this land. I want Ivar found. And when you find him…" His voice lowered, laced with venom. "Bring me his head.""And Lady Amelia?"Caspian's gaze flickered with something darker—possession. "Bring her to me alive. No matter what it takes."Alrick hesitated, sensing the shift in his king’s demeanor. "And if she refuses to return?"Caspian's lips curled into a bitter, humorless smile. "Then she will learn where her true place lies. Here. With me."General Alrick couldn't help but notice the change in Caspian's demeanor. Without a word, he quietly took his leave, giving the young king space.As the night deepened, Caspian’s heart hardened further. The once kind and generous prince now burned with vengeance and desire. He would not rest until Ivar was dead—and Amelia was his. No matter the cost.After the King’s death, Rosaline’s world shattered like fragile glass beneath a cruel heel. The walls of the palace, once her haven, now echoed with silence and betrayal. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edges of her velvet robe, her eyes swollen from days of weeping, though now they burned—not with sorrow, but with fury.She had never imagined a fate where Caspian would live and her husband would not. It was supposed to be the other way around. Caspian should have died. Not him.In the queen’s chamber, the maids moved like shadows—silent, hesitant, their eyes cast low in fear of what might set her off next. A silver tray clinked softly as one of them dared to offer her a bowl of warm broth."Your Grace… please, you must eat something," one whispered.Rosaline’s eyes flared as she slapped the bowl away. It shattered against the stone floor."How dare you!" she screamed, voice echoing through the cold stone chamber. "How dare you bring me comfort when the King lies cold in the crypt and he—that boy—sits on his throne! This wasn’t supposed to happen."The maids exchanged nervous glances, stepping back, unsure whether to flee or kneel. One of them, braver than the rest, tried again.“Your Grace… Prince Caspian is now—”“He is not my king!” Rosaline hissed. “He is a curse wrapped in silk and silver. He should have died in that battle. He should have never returned!" Her voice cracked. “This can’t be real…”"And now the boy returns with a crown on his head, and I’m left with nothing?”None of the maids answered. What could they say?One of the older maids stepped forward, “The court mourns with you, my lady. The whole kingdom grieves.”Rosaline didn’t respond right away. She looked out the window toward the distant hills. “It doesn’t feel like grief,” she said, “It feels like betrayal.”Then she turned, “Leave me,” she said quietly. “I need time.”The maids bowed and left one by one, closing the door behind them. Alone, Rosaline sank back onto her chair. The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, but it did little to warm the chill settling deep in her bones.