Chapter 106: A Sudden Summons.

Chapter 106

The cold wind whipped through the towering archways of the northern fortress, carrying with it the bitter weight of approaching warfare. A mere two days remained before Soren was set to march his legions toward the southern border, and precisely one day before the grand wedding of Lady Maria and Prince Ragnar.

It was amidst this stifling tension that a royal courier arrived, delivering a heavily sealed missive into Sigrid’s hands. Sigrid stood by the window of her private drawing room, her eyes narrowing in a cold scowl as she broke the wax seal and scanned the contents. The invitation was for a formal family dinner at the royal palace, scheduled for that very evening. They had deliberately withheld the summons until the final possible moment, a petty and transparent maneuver designed to afford her no time to prepare, strictly to assert their fleeting dominance.

Disgust flickered across Sigrid’s striking features as she handed the parchment to her maid. "Dispose of it, Lilith," she commanded softly, her voice laced with calm disdain. Under normal circumstances, she would have ignored such a blatant ploy without a second thought.

However, the missive explicitly noted that both the King and Queen would grace the table with their presence, and Duke Soren himself had been formally invited. To decline would be to commit an open act of disrespect against the Crown. Sigrid paced the perimeter of the room, her heavy silk skirts rustling against the stone floor as her mind calculated the motives behind the sudden summons. They knew Soren was utterly consumed with war preparations, yet they brazenly demanded his presence regardless. "Such insufferable pests," she muttered under her breath, wondering what Maria possibly hoped to gain by dragging her back into the fold after she had so thoroughly severed ties with her former house.

Lilith took the parchment with a deeply worried expression, her brow furrowed as she looked at her mistress. "What are you going to do, Milady?"

Sigrid paused her pacing, smoothing her sleeves with practiced elegance. "I shall attend, of course. One does not simply reject a summons issued under the gaze of the sovereign."

Lilith’s frown deepened as she took a hesitant step closer. "Are you truly certain you are in the proper condition to travel to the capital, Milady?"

Sigrid’s crimson eyes flashed with immediate irritation. "What foolishness do you spout, Lilith? Of course I am." Yet as the words left her lips, a dark, lingering frustration settled in her chest. It was utterly exasperating; a week prior, she had been informed that she had suffered a violent collapse, an entire day erased from her mind without a single trace of memory. She had briefly pondered if her mysterious sight had caused the sudden illness, but she promptly dismissed the thought. She had no time to waste on phantom ailments when critical matters demanded her attention.

Stepping out of her quarters, Sigrid navigated the grand corridors to seek out her husband. As her slippers clicked against the flagstones, her heart unexpectedly dropped into a heavy, uncomfortable rhythm. Things between her and Soren had grown distinctly strained over the past week, a cold distance having formed between them that was entirely of her own making. She did not regret creating the rift; it was a necessary measure for both of their fates.

Her grand strategies were rapidly shifting into motion, and while she knew he would inevitably be drawn into the crossfire, she sought to minimize the damage. She was acutely aware that Maria possessed strange, unnerving knowledge of future events that could thwart Soren’s ambitions, but Sigrid was fiercely determined to shatter her sister’s plans first.

Halting near the courtyard doors, she took a deep, steadying breath, hardening her features into a mask of regal composure before stepping out into the biting morning air.

Down in the snowy courtyard, Soren was engaged in intense combat drills, his massive sword swinging in powerful, lethal arcs against his top commanders. The moment his sharp blue eyes caught sight of Sigrid standing at the edge of the training grounds, he halted his blade mid-strike, dismissing his men with a brief wave. He strode toward her, his heavy armor clanking with every powerful step, his dark hair damp with sweat. "Duchess," he greeted, his low baritone rumbling through the chilly air.

Sigrid felt an unexpected, faint flutter in her chest at the sound of his voice, a sensation she quickly suppressed as she offered a flawless, graceful curtsey. "My lord. I apologize for intruding upon your training, but a missive has just arrived from my step-sister, Lady Maria."

Soren’s posture immediately went rigid, his features darkening into an icy scowl as he reached out and took the parchment from her hands.

Sigrid maintained her stoic demeanor as Soren scanned the elegant script. "We have been summoned to the Palace for a family gathering this evening, and you have been invited as well, my lord," she explained smoothly. "I am well aware of how demanding your schedule is with the march drawing near—"

Soren cut her off before she could finish her thought, his dark gaze locking onto hers. "I shall accompany you. But do you truly wish to go, Sigrid?"

Sigrid offered a faint, humorless smile. "I have little choice in the matter, my lord. The King and Queen will be present. However, you need not trouble yourself if your duties press upon you."

Soren folded the missive tightly in his calloused fist. "I can easily dispatch a formal notice of absence to the palace."

Sigrid shook her head slightly. "Do not bother yourself, Duke. Besides, it will prove rather entertaining to observe what my sister and former family have orchestrated this time."

Soren studied her face intensely for a long, silent moment. Raising his large, scarred hand, he gently reached out and brushed a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear, his touch surprisingly soft despite his formidable presence. "Are you truly well now, Duchess?" he asked, his voice dropping into a deep, quiet register.

Sigrid kept her gaze level, though her breath hitched slightly at the proximity. "My lord, I have assured you multiple times that my health is perfectly fine."

Soren leaned slightly on the hilt of his broadsword, his sharp blue eyes peering intently into her face, refusing to let her slide past the topic. "Yes, yet I worry nonetheless. That was the first time I have ever seen you look so fragile, Sigrid. You looked as though the very life had been drained from your body." He turned his gaze momentarily toward the snow-covered grounds, his brow furrowed in genuine, unspoken pain.

Sigrid stood frozen under his intense scrutiny, taking a slow, quiet gulp as she searched for the proper words. "I do not know what further proof I can offer to convince you that I am fully recovered, but—"

Soren shifted his weight, straightening to his full, imposing height as he interrupted her once more. "Then kiss me, Sigrid."

The sudden, astounding request left Sigrid utterly speechless, her crimson eyes widening in genuine confusion. "Kiss you?" she repeated, her voice lacking its usual razor-sharp composure.

Soren met her baffled stare without a single hint of hesitation. "Yes."

Sigrid straightened her posture, searching his stoic face for any sign of jest. "And for what reason, my lord?"

Soren stepped closer, his towering frame casting a broad shadow over her as his baritone washed over her in a low, commanding tide. "Because for the past two weeks, you have deliberately distanced yourself from me for reasons I cannot fathom. I have reviewed my actions endlessly, yet I know not what offense I committed to warrant such coldness. I wish to assure you once more that you did not force my hand into this union; I entered it by my own volition. I simply desire to understand why you pull away. We are not lovers—far from it—yet you intrigue me endlessly, Duchess. Throughout the duration of this alliance, you have proven yourself to be extraordinarily brilliant, charismatic, and mesmerizing. To watch you suddenly withdraw into yourself, retreating behind an impenetrable wall for reasons kept secret from me, displeases me immensely."

The raw honesty of his words struck Sigrid like a physical blow, leaving her completely frozen where she stood. Words deserted her entirely as her mind raced to process the weight of his confession. Internally, her thoughts spiraled into a chaotic storm. Why did I begin to push him away after that afternoon with the Marquess? There was no single event, no sudden betrayal that prompted it... As she stared into his deep blue eyes under the fading northern sun, a sudden, piercing realization struck her heart like a cold blade, Guilt.

A profound, suffocating sense of guilt had taken root within her. She was terrified of ruining his life by dragging him into her dangerous, vengeful schemes. Yet deeper beneath that fear lay an even terrifying truth—she had distanced herself as a desperate precaution. She feared that if he was dragged too deeply into her dark reality, he would grow to despise her and sever their bond entirely especially how he was already considering it because of his grand treason in the future. And in truth, she realized with a jolt of panic, she never wanted their alliance to end.

Before she could unravel the terrifying depth of her own feelings, Soren leaned down, bringing his face dangerously close to hers, his warm breath fanning across her cheek. "Duchess?" he murmured softly, demanding an answer.

Just as Sigrid parted her lips to speak, the heavy crunch of snow broken by hurried footsteps shattered the intimate atmosphere. Orion appeared at the edge of the courtyard, bowing hastily. "My lord, I apologize for the intrusion, but some papers requires your immediate presence."

Soren’s eyes narrowed into a dark, frustrated scowl at the disruption, though he did not immediately step back. Taking full advantage of the unexpected escape, Sigrid offered a swift, perfectly poised bow. "We shall depart for the capital in an hour’s time, my lord," she stated quickly. Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and glided away toward the fortress, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs as she fled his overwhelming presence.