TRIGGER WARNING: DROWNING
Nobles flitted around him, their chatter a soft hum beneath the glittering chandeliers. Ladies whispered behind their paper fans, their eyes narrowing whenever they glanced his way. Lords shot him furtive looks from across the ballroom. Ragnar saw them all. He felt their scrutiny like a physical touch, like ghostly fingers tracing the sharp lines of his face and the edges of his shoulders. He pretended not to notice any of them.
There were three types of people who watched him, and the look in their eyes made it easy to tell them apart.
The first group were those who supported him, nobles who still harbored hope that the throne might one day bear a different name, his name. They aligned themselves with him not out of love, but out of strategy, ambition, and the desire to survive whatever chaos the queen's rule might eventually ignite.
