THE FEUD #1

CHAPTER 2

AXEL

I feel the need to drink more than I already have. A summons from my father is enough to make me want to pass out somewhere quiet and forget he even exists. But then I’d only get another summons the next day and a father in a temper over being ignored. My anxiety is overpowering even in this state of mind. I crush the note in my hand as I hunt for Ragnar in the swarm of people gathered in the ballroom. I find him just where I had left him moments ago – deep in conversation with William Goodman, who towers over him despite Ragnar’s already impressive height. William attended school with both Ragnar and I, remaining a close friend despite the distance that now resides between us. Lucas has arrived in my absence, almost invisible next to the men around him, smiling brightly as he sees me approaching. I try to smile back, knowing how sensitive Lucas can be to even the slightest insults.

“Lucas, it’s been forever.” I say lamely, attempting to move my stiff lips into a smile worthy of a greeting.

I can clearly remember the last time I’d seen him, so few things angered Lucas more than his parents' insistence that he learn combat when he very clearly isn’t cut out to be a soldier. And yet he’d ended up at the Three Sisters training school like the rest of us, only he saw his ass handed to him much more often. We had all graduated last year, his studies pulling him through when his combat abilities did not. As per usual when it comes to Lucas, the clumsy scholar practically jumps me in welcome. Wrapping his thin arms around my neck and hugging me impressively tightly for such a skinny guy.

“Axel, what’s the dire look on your face? You're starting to remind me of old Ragnar here more often than not. Perhaps you need a break from palace life, hmm?”

Ragnar narrows his stunningly green eyes at the back of Lucas’s curly brown head. I laugh at Lucas’s tendency to be so straightforward even around royals. He’d always been able to put a smile on my face even at the worst of times.

Ragnar remarks, “I was wondering where you disappeared to.” He says almost blandly.

The crumpled note still in my hand, I press it to Ragnar’s chest. Looking mildly surprised, Ragnar takes hold of it – unfolding it and raising a perfectly dark eyebrow before he begins to read the hand-written note. His mood has darkened by the time he is done, not that an untrained eye could tell. Ragnar is notorious for being called the Cold Prince. He hides his emotions well.

“What does he want a private word for?” Lucas asks, having peaked over Ragnar’s shoulder, “Maybe he knows you’re drunk?” Lucas says in a loud hushed voice.

Ragnar’s brows jerk slightly, letting me know that he is more startled than surprised, “You’re drunk?” he questions sternly.

“Okay, we are leaving now.” William announces, taking hold of Lucas and guiding him away quickly.

I don’t miss William's words, scolding Lucas as they focus their new destination in the direction of food, “You just can’t keep your mouth shut!” William snaps at the bewildered looking Lucas, who clearly doesn’t know what he’s done wrong this time. It makes me laugh.

“I'd best head to meet him as well, he hates it when I’m late.” I say sourly, already wishing for another drink.

“I don’t understand. He’s been here on and off for weeks. Not once has he asked to speak to you. Why now?” The palace is huge. It isn’t uncommon for people not to see each other here.

“Maybe he’s going to tell me I’m getting married too. One can only imagine why he’s suddenly remembered he has a son.”

“You’re not funny.” Ragnar’s lips turn at the side into a subtle frown.

“Pity, I do try.” I say, ignoring my clenching heart.

Not here.

“Wish me luck.” I sigh dramatically, turning my attention elsewhere.

Steadying my racing heart, I try to prepare myself, hating the minutes to come with every fibre of my body. I turn to leave just as Ragnar grabs my forearm, leaning in closer to whisper near my ear.

“He has no power over you anymore, Axel. Not here. I will always have your back and I will always protect you.” His words pour out with the promise of protection and reassurance that should have made me feel better.

With Ragnar so close, the hint of trouble in his eyes, I’d like to believe him, trust in him, but I can’t. Meeting his glorious green eyes, framed by tanned skin and messy dark hair I’m assaulted by emotions from recent events.

“Right up until your father tells you otherwise.” I sneer.

I know my words hit the spot by the sharp breath he takes through his parted lips, but I don’t care much at this point. He’s living in a fantasy even larger than my own. Walking away from him, I feel my feet getting heavily and my steps slower as I reach the library. The style of the library is old and dated but I like it very much. The scenery creates a tranquil, warm homey feel that has kept me at peace more times than not. To meet my father here is almost like having him destroy my place of safety. I wouldn’t be shocked if he had asked where I spend the most amount of my time and then decided how to best ruin the place for me.

“Axel.” His voice is like a whip to my senses.

He stands with his arms folded against his chest, an indifferent look, on his almost plain looking face as his tall frame leans against the long wooden table set in the centre of the room with two clear wine glasses and a bottle. I don’t bother greeting him. Taking a seat, I wait to hear the reason he has decided to call upon me. He considers me with an immediate look of reproach.

“I have heard distressing reports on your behaviour. Quite honestly, I don’t understand why the King hasn’t tossed you out by your ear as of yet.”

I shrug, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage father, what have I done that isn’t my usual?”

“Drunk at a ball for the King's daughter while eligible men seek to dance and impress her, and you,” he tsks, “can’t be bothered to keep a decent state of mind?”

He holds a bottle of brandy in his large hand as he considers me. He pours a glass for us both, neat, before handing me one and seating himself elegantly at the head of the table. I take a large gulp of it, hoping to numb this conversation. The brandy leaves a sweet taste in my mouth. My father smiles. His blonde hair, the same shade as mine, is short against his skull and is the only thing he has in common with me. I would have served whiskey.

“I was so hoping you would be smart enough to benefit from your friendship with the prince and instead you spend more time in your cup of late than capitalising on the King's hunt for the princess's husband.”

It just couldn’t be contained – I feel hysterical as I laugh deeply, “I have no intentions of joining the flock of men chasing at the princess’s feet. I’m not going to marry her.”

“Why not?”

I shrug, “Why would I want to tie myself down to one woman?”

“You are such a disappointment, Axel. Not to forget an embarrassment for Benerdale.” He says casually, moving his glass in a circle with his thumb and forefinger.

I don't particularly care that he throws Benerdale State in my face. I am still going to inherit the title, along with the responsibilities of being the Duke.

I sigh heavily at his condemnation, “So you keep saying.” I take another large slip, the brandy bitter on my tongue.

“What brand is this? Damn, it’s terrible!” I exclaim, putting my glass to the side in disgust.

“You will be returning home with me tonight where I can control your latest indulgences. And don’t think your moping about since Ragnar’s engagement hasn’t gone unnoticed. If you think to ruin the engagement...”

I interrupt, “That must be your best excuse to drag me home yet. Ragnar’s a big boy, he can ruin his own engagement.”

He seems amused by my words. To get a rise out of my father, he would have to care about anything more than the way I make him look. But I know that this is the calm before the storm. And the storm is brutal and cold.

“It’s decided Axel, you will be coming back with me. I won’t hear anymore.”

I clench my teeth, my nostrils flaring in displeasure. Without me pushing at his back, Ragnar will never build the courage to confront his father about his desire to end the engagement. If I go home… Well that is a whole different nightmare.

“I have business here I cannot leave I’m afraid.” I say with as much composure as I can muster, staring at the golden liquid against the glass of my discarded brandy.

My glass blurs somewhat. I focus on the content as it too blurs, my head beginning to spin. I gasp in realisation. Snapping my eyes back at my smiling father, rushing to my feet only to have them give out beneath me.

“Your business will have to wait.”

But I barely hear his words. He drugged me! I think as I groan on the floor. I hear the library doors open and footsteps approaching before my sight turns black.