Chapter 271: The Darkness of The Heart
The banquet soon ended beneath the flickering glow of chandeliers and the fading echoes of laughter. Goblets had long been emptied, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine still lingering like a ghost in the air.
Prince Reuben, flushed and unsteady from countless toasts raised in his honor, was gently ushered away by attendants, his laughter slurring into incoherent murmurs as he vanished down the corridor toward his chambers.
In the grand hall, Queen Helga stood with practiced grace, bidding farewell to Freya and her kin. Her voice was warm, her gestures regal, until a palace maid approached, head bowed low, and whispered something urgently into her ear.
A shadow passed over Helga’s face—a crack in the face of calmness. Her smile faltered for the briefest moment before she smoothed it back into place with the elegance of someone who had mastered the art of appearances. She waved gracefully at the departing guests, her demeanor as radiant as ever.
But the moment the last carriage exited the palace gates and disappeared into the night, her smile dropped like a mask—the warmth drained from her expression, replaced by a glacial calm that quickly curdled into something darker. Fury, tightly coiled and simmering.
Without a word, she turned and began the long walk to Astrid’s chambers in the northern wing of the palace, the forbidden place. Her shoes clicked sharply against the marble floor, echoing like distant thunder in the silent corridors.
The guards posted outside the chamber stiffened as she approached.
"Good evening, Your Majesty. King Heimdal is already in bed." One of the more courageous guards informed the queen.
"I don’t intend to disturb him. I want to check on him, and then I’ll leave," she said, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.