Astrid
Castleburg’s gates opened wide, their blackened iron groaning as my carriage rolled through. Their crimson banners fluttered along the towered ramparts. The city had changed. It was quieter, darker, and heavier than expected. A whisper ran through the courtyard as I stepped out, Luther and the Yormsborg warriors flanking me.
Then, they saw me.
“Queen Astrid,” someone whispered.
That whisper grew into a chant.
“My Queen! My Queen!”
I was home.
Salric pushed through the crowd, her face full of relief, and something more—concern.
“You returned,” she said, bowing deeply. “Thank the gods.”
I gave a small smile. “Did you doubt I would?”
“After the poisoning… we feared the worst.”
Her eyes dropped to my stomach, where my hand rested instinctively. “And the child?”
“Alive,” I re
