THE VIKING KING'S BRIDE

⚔️ THE TREACHEROUS PRINCESS

Margaret clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late. Her confession hung heavily in the freezing air.

Alice slowly raised her chin, shedding her submissive peasant posture entirely. She stepped out from King Roosevelt's shadow, her gaze burning with an unyielding, and royal authority that completely silenced her sister.

"You sent me to the mountain and hired and assassins to kill me, sister," Alice said, her melodic voice ringing through the cathedral.

"But the people you ordered, do not obey your treason. And neither does your King." Alice continued.

Before Princess Margaret and the Seer could react, King Roosevelt let out a dark, booming laugh. And in one terrifying movement, he drew his iron sword, the blade singing as it sliced through the air, and pointed the razor-sharp tip directly at Margaret’s throat.

"The wedding is concluded," King Roosevelt announced to the stunned hall.

"I do not marry predictable traitors. Guards, seize the Princess and the blind zealot! They will sleep in the prison cage tonight."

Viking warriors instantly swarmed the altar, dragging a screaming Princess Margaret and a thrashing Seer into the shadows.

The defeated old King, Alice's father, trembled in his seat on the front, his crooked crown slipping further down his brow. He looked at Alice, his eyes filled with a mixture of shame and disbelief. "Alice... my child... you live."

But Alice did not look at him with the softness of a daughter. She walked past Roosevelt, stepping up to the highest tier of the altar where the ancient crown of the Carpio line rested upon a velvet cushion, waiting for the ceremony's conclusion.

She turned back to face the assembly of noble lords, merchants, and generals who had so easily bended the knee to the invaders.

King Roosevelt stepped up beside her, sheathing his sword, his icy eye fixed on her with an expression of dark, intense reverence. He did not claim the crown for himself, he stood as her shield, establishing his position as her absolute ally.

"Lords of the Kingdom," Alice spoke, her voice carrying across the vast expanse of the cathedral.

"For years, you sat in your heated halls while my sister poisoned this court and the lower villages starved to death. You allowed a blind mystic to dictate the fate of our borders, and you surrendered our city without a fight because you feared the iron of the north."

She reached down, her slender hands picking up the heavy golden crown. She did not wait for a priest. With absolute certainty, she placed it firmly upon her own head, the gold gleaming against her dark hair.

"My father has failed you. My sister has betrayed you. The crown of this Kingdom no longer belongs to the weak or the deceitful," Alice announced, her gaze sweeping across the trembling nobility.

"I am Queen Alice Carpio. I hold the keys to the mountain vaults, and I hold the alliance of the High King. If any man among you believes I am too weak to hold this throne, let him step forward now and answer to the iron beside me."

There is no one lord moved. The generals lowered their heads, and the merchants dropped to their knees, recognizing that the true sovereign of the northern lands had finally claimed her birthright.

King Roosevelt turned to her, a possessive smile playing on his lips as he extended his leather-gloved hand toward her.

"Long live the Queen," he shouted, his voice was promising of the beautiful empire they would build together from the ashes of the old world.

The noble people who witnessed the event looked at each other, their murmurs erupted throughout the cathedral.

As the chaos settled, King Roosevelt slowly lowered his head and turned toward Alice, his icy gaze flashing with dark amusement.

"The stage is clear, Princess Alice," King Roosevelt whispered.

"Now, let us go and see if your silver vaults are as real as your crown."

Alice didn't nod but she frowned. Now she is trying to twist her fate beside the Viking King Roosevelt.

The heavy iron bolts of the King’s bedchamber clicked into place, sealing Alice inside the lion's den long before the morning sun could rise.

King Roosevelt unbuckled his heavy black iron chest piece, letting the armor crash onto the floor with a deafening metallic thud. He wore nothing but a loose linen shirt beneath, his muscular chest scarred from a hundred battles. He walked over to the grand mahogany table, lit a single tallow candle, and slammed a blank piece of parchment alongside a charcoal quill in front of Alice.

"The night is short, Princess," Roosevelt said, his low baritone voices vibrating closer to her ear.

"You traded your identity for your survival. Now, pay your debt. Draw me the hidden passages to the mountain silver vaults, or I will hand you over to your sister’s guards by dawn."

Alice did not tremble. Because in her mind, she was already weaving her next move. She picked up the charcoal quill, her slender fingers were steady despite the heavy weight of his gaze were pressing down on her shoulders.

"I will draw you the path, King Roosevelt," Alice said softly, her brilliant eyes locking onto his.

"Because a map is useless if you do not know how to bypass the ancient traps. My father designed the entrance going to the vault doors to collapse entirely, of course! those are for trespassers. The silver vaults were buried deeply in a cave, but if you pressed the wrong sequence. you cannot get out of that cave and you will be buried there forever, together with the silvers.

Roosevelt’s eyes narrowed, his eye tracking the grace of her movements. He leaned over the table, and his hands pinning the edges of the parchment.

"Are you threatening me, girl?"

"I am negotiating," Alice replied, stepping closer until her small frame was nearly touching his chest.

"You want the wealth of my kingdom to fund your empire across the sea. I want my sister Margaret stripped of her power, and I want the lower villages fed. We share the same enemies. Let me ride with you to the mountains tonight. Let me unlock the vaults for you myself." Alice continued.

But King Roosevelt stared down at her, deeply intrigued by her plan. There is no warrior, had ever dared to dictate terms to him while standing in his own bedchamber.

"You are a dangerous creature, Alice Carpio," Roosevelt murmured, his fingers gently reaching out to trail along her jawline, tilting her face upward.

"You possess the mind of a general and the face of a queen. Very well. We will ride into the mountains, But know this..."

He leaned down, his breath warm against her lips, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive whisper. "If you lead my men into an ambush, I will not just take your kingdom. I will take your life myself."