Mated To The Barbarian King Who Is My Ex-husband's Father.

Arianna placed her hand on her chest, which kept rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. She could swear she had caught a fleeting smile on Kane’s face right before she turned and bolted out of the tent.

He hadn’t stopped her, nor had he chased after her.

​Did he actually believe her? She desperately wished he hadn’t. Shutting her eyes, she silently cursed herself for being so incredibly foolish, blurting out the first dangerous thing that had crossed her mind to the King of all people.

​"Are you okay, my lady?" Maria asked, standing a few steps away and waiting patiently for her Queen.

​Arianna opened her eyes and nodded. She glanced around the camp. Most of the tribe members were going about their daily business, save for a few who watched her intently from a distance. "Have you seen Aunt Freya?"

​"No, my lady," both handmaidens chorused.

​"I guess we will have to find our own way, then," Arianna sighed, taking a deep, steadying breath before exhaling. She gestured for Eira to lead the way.

​The moment she took her first step forward, she noticed four heavily armed guards falling into rank behind them.

​"The King’s special guard," Eira murmured softly. "They will walk with us to the women’s area."

​"The women’s area?" Arianna repeated, furrowing her brows. "Why is it called that?"

​"Yes, my lady. It is the market section where only the women are permitted to buy and sell."

​Arianna nodded, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of hostility as they walked. "An area that accommodates only women? It doesn’t sound terrible, unless they were forced into isolation by the men."

​When Eira offered no reply, Arianna’s suspicions grew. "Were they forced to stay there? I noticed when I first arrived here the women and men didn’t seem to mingle much."

​"I do not know if they were forced, my lady," Eira replied carefully, keeping her head low. "I only know that the women buy and sell there... that is all."

​"Mmm..." Arianna fell silent. She would simply have to observe and figure out the dynamics of this place for herself once they arrived.

​They trekked down the winding dirt path for about six minutes before Arianna caught sight of the vibrant, beautiful colors of woven carpets.

One of the tribe’s women was sitting under a broad shade, completely absorbed in her craft. Unable to resist her curiosity, Arianna veered off the path and stepped into the open-air workshop to watch.

​The woman knelt patiently beside a simple, sturdy wooden frame. With practiced, calloused fingers, she looped rough flax cords from one end of the frame to the other, meticulously creating the strong, hidden skeleton of the rug.

​"Is this how it is knitted?" Arianna found herself asking.

​"Yes, my lady," the woman nodded, offering her a polite, light smile.

​"Will you teach me?"

​The weaver hesitated, looking unsure of whether it was proper to allow the Queen of the tribe to perform such manual labor.

However, Eira gave a subtle nod from behind Arianna, encouraging her to comply with the Queen’s request.

​"Building a loom isn’t difficult, Your Highness," the woman said. She quickly set about showing her, cutting four straight branches from a nearby pile and tying them together tightly with strong vines to form a neat rectangular frame. She leaned the finished frame against the wooden wall of her stall. "It can also rest flat on the ground—whichever way you are most comfortable with."

​Arianna nodded, recognizing that it would take far more than a single lesson to master the intricate craft.

​"This will take up a lot of your time, my lady," Maria interjected softly, stepping closer. "And we still have to find Aunt Freya."

​"That’s true. I will come back to learn more when I have some free time," Arianna said, turning to the weaver.

​"As you wish, Your Highness," the woman bowed, her face lighting up with happiness.

​Arianna reached down, slipped a delicate gold bracelet off her wrist, and pressed it into the woman’s hand. The weaver gasped, her eyes widening in shock at such a lavish gift.

​"Thank you for offering to teach me," Arianna said warmly.

​"You really do not need to do this, Your Highness," the woman protested, her hands trembling.

​"Do not worry about it," Arianna insisted, offering a genuine smile before turning to walk away.

​But as they strolled further down into the heart of the market, the warm feeling quickly faded. The gazes that met her from the surrounding stalls sent cold shivers running straight down her spine.

Most of the women here were clearly not happy to see her. The resentment in their eyes was palpable; it was obvious they wanted to approach her and speak their minds, but the heavy royal security walking tightly behind her kept them frozen in fear.

​"I can sense the hatred in the air," Arianna murmured quietly to her maidens.

​"They can hear us, my lady," Eira warned, her voice barely a breath.

​"Sometimes I forget that we are surrounded by werewolves."

​"I will keep reminding you."

​"Thank you, Eira," Arianna said, forcing a small smile. She looked around, her eyes landing on a few young children playing near their mothers.

They were beautiful, bright-eyed kids, yet she couldn’t dare go close to them. The hostile, defensive postures of their mothers warned her to keep her distance.

​"Where on earth is Aunt Freya?" Arianna sighed, walking deeper into the heart of the market.

​Suddenly, a commotion to her left caught her attention.

​A red-haired woman, likely in her late twenties, was in the middle of a desperate struggle. She clutched a tiny baby—barely six months old—tightly against her chest with her left arm.

With her free hand, she was frantically fighting to claw back the fabrics on her table as a pair of burly guards dragged her inventory away.

Several of her beautifully woven dresses had already been tossed carelessly into the thick mud.

​"What is going on?" Arianna asked, her voice tightening with anger. "Who is that and why are they treating her like that?"

​Arianna was appalled by the brutality of the scene. What shocked her even more, however, was the reaction of the crowd. Dozens of women stood in a loose circle, watching the mother struggle without lifting a single finger to help her.

​"Her name is Astrid," Eira answered in a low whisper. "But I call her Aunt Freya’s karma."

​"Why? Can you explain that to me?"

​"The woman is from a different pack," Eira explained, glancing nervously at the guards. "They won’t let her sell anything here without a formal registration because she is not from the king’s pack."

​"Why? What is stopping her from doing that? Does the registration have such strict requirements?"

​"Yes, my lady," Maria answered this time, stepping closer. She had overheard the girls in the servants’ quarters whispering about the drama just the other day.

​"But that is not the real reason she isn’t being registered," Eira added, leaning in to lower her voice even further. "Astrid is married to Aunt Freya’s ex-husband. He dumped Freya fourteen years ago and married the young lady over there."

​Eira glanced toward the struggling mother, her eyes glittering with the thrill of the gossip. "Aunt Freya has never gotten over it. She punishes Astrid and her children for it every chance she gets. The old woman refuses to see her own fault in why her husband left her in the first place."

​Arianna was speechless. Her lips parted in shock as she looked from her maids to Astrid and then she couldn’t help but let out a quiet, sudden laugh. So, Aunt Freya’s husband was actually still alive!

​She hadn’t seen him since her arrival and because no one had spoken of him, she had simply assumed he was deceased.

​"Why did they divorce?" Arianna asked, her curiosity fully piqued.

​"Who would want to stay married to a woman like her? She is far too wicked," Eira said, frowning deeply. "And he was her second husband, so I am not at all surprised he ran."

​"Wow... I think Astrid and I are going to be very good friends," Arianna said, a spark of rebellion lighting up her eyes as she began walking toward the commotion.

​"No, my lady!" Eira blurted out, her hand twitching as if she wanted to grab her mistress’s sleeve and pull her back. "Aunt Freya will absolutely despise this!"

​"Who cares?" Arianna retorted, throwing a sharp, brilliant smile over her shoulder without breaking her stride.

​If Aunt Freya wanted to play games, Arianna was more than happy to join the board. After all, there was nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, was there?

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