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

Samantha took a step back, shaking her head frantically. "No, Ragnar! I swear on my life I would never do something like this to our mother!"

​"Then how did you know the ring was missing?" Her brother’s gaze remained cold, completely unconvinced.

​Arianna watched the exchange keenly. She had a strong feeling that Samantha knew exactly what had happened to the jewelry—either she had stolen the pieces herself, or she knew who did.

But why put her own mother through such agony? What was she trying to achieve in the end? Was whatever game she was playing truly worth it?

​"The reason I guessed the ring was because I know how much it means to her," Samantha began to explain, treading carefully with every word so as not to break character. "Mother wouldn’t throw a fit over ordinary jewelry unless it was that specific ring."

​Silence fell over the tent as they all stared at her, each trying to discern whether she was being genuine or simply spinning a desperate lie.

​"Besides, I only guessed the ring...Mother was the one who just mentioned her necklace was missing, too," Samantha added, seizing the advantage. "Doesn’t that prove I have no full knowledge of what was taken?"

​Aunt Freya nodded slowly, her motherly trust winning out over her doubt. She pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead. "Did I really just accuse my own daughter? What on earth has gotten into me?"

​"Thank the Goddess Mother is finally coming to her senses," Samantha sighed, a visible wave of relief washing over her face. She turned to her brother, her chin raised. "Do you still doubt me?"

​"She would never do it," Aunt Freya said, coming to her daughter’s defense. "Why would she steal something that I plan to pass down to her anyway?"

​​"If Mother says so," Ragnar conceded, relenting for her sake. "We will help you search for it."

​"Perhaps it just slipped somewhere out of sight," Arianna added gently, though she remained deeply skeptical of Samantha’s convenient explanation.

​"I will fetch the servants to help," Samantha offered quickly, ducking out of the tent.

​She returned a few minutes later accompanied by four maidservants, who immediately set to work carefully searching every corner of the space.

​"Sit down, Mother. You need to rest," Ragnar said softly, taking her hand and guiding her toward the only comfortable chair in the tent. "Can I get you some water?"

​"No, Ragnar... I just want my ring and my necklace," Aunt Freya whimpered, running a trembling hand through her long, gray hair. "I can’t lose them. I simply can’t."

​"We will find them. Try not to panic," he assured her, kneeling beside her.

​Arianna stood quietly in the corner, taking in the scene. She hadn’t realized just how deeply attached they were to one another. Ragnar was always clashing with his mother, but the moment real trouble struck, his devotion shone through—much like the king’s.

​Truly, blood is thicker than water.

​After an exhaustive, meticulous search yielded absolutely nothing, Samantha turned to her mother with a grave expression.

​"I am afraid someone stole your precious jewelry, Mother."

​"W-what?" Aunt Freya gasped, standing up in shock.

​"She is right, Mother," Ragnar said, a disappointed look settling over his face. "Unless... perhaps you left them with Samantha? Maybe in her tent?"

​"No, I did not."

​Samantha rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her brother’s pointed suggestion. It was clear to her that he was trying to drag her into trouble by any means necessary.

​"But who would dare enter your tent and steal from you?" Arianna asked, a look of genuine confusion on her face.

​"I don’t know, but we are going to find out the moment I bring this to the king!" Aunt Freya declared, storming out of the tent before either of them could stop her.

​"You should have held her back," Ragnar blamed his sister, glaring at her.

​"No, Ragnar," Samantha replied, a sharp, knowing smile spreading across her lips as her eyes fixed on the queen. "A thief has invaded our mother’s tent. Let’s just sit back and see how Kane handles them. What do you think, Queen Arianna?"

​Arianna felt a chill run down her spine, unsettled by the underlying malice in Samantha’s tone. Was she subtly trying to frame her? No, impossible.

​"I know Kane will find the true culprit," Arianna replied smoothly, holding her ground.

*******

​The King’s guards stood watch outside the workshop while he stepped inside with the seamstress who crafted the royal attire. A few days ago, Kane had brought her the fresh pelt of a lioness he had slain in the forest, commissioning her to fashion a fur cloak for his queen.

​"It is almost ready," said Alara, a blonde woman in her early thirties. Her workshop was filled with various bolts of silk. She motioned toward them. "These are the fabrics your men brought back from the war."

​"Good work, Alara. See what you can craft from them. If the pack takes a liking to the material, we will secure more," Kane said. He wasn’t entirely sure if his people would be willing to transition from wearing traditional animal pelts to fine woven fabrics.

Whatever they decided, he wanted to offer them a choice so they could choose what felt most comfortable.

​"They will still need the furs, Alpha Kane," Alara noted, running her fingers across the smooth silk. "The harsh chill is too much to bear on its own."

​Kane nodded gravely. She was right. The cold season had hit harder than usual this year, and once autumn arrived, it would become nearly unbearable.

Neither the tents nor the shelter of the caves were enough to prevent his people from falling ill.

​"You began construction on a stone palace. What became of it? Word has it that the building has ceased," Alara inquired, taking a seat across from him.

​"I put the project on hold for now. The tribe seems to prefer the caves."

​"They prefer the caves simply because they have never known the comfort of a castle," she said, standing up. "Once they experience it, they will choose a sturdy roof over stone walls every time. But what do I know? I am merely an omega serving the king."

​"Do not belittle yourself like that, Alara. We grew up together," Kane replied softly.

​She had once been betrothed to Cassius, but his family had ultimately broken off the engagement—a decision fueled by Aunt Freya, who had never taken a liking to Alara.

​​"Your new queen... I hear she’s the one keeping your aunt and her stubborn daughter on their toes," Alara chuckled softly. She hadn’t yet had the opportunity to meet the queen in person since her arrival.

​Kane let out a low laugh, shaking his head. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the little tiger pelt he had found in his wife’s tent the other night. "Here. I need you to figure out who this belonged to. With all your years of crafting furs, I trust your eyes."

​"Hmm... what is going on?" Alara asked, taking the fur from his hands and examining the cut and texture closely.

​"I have a feeling the owner intended to kill my wife or at the very least, knows something about the attack on her life."

​"This came from within your own household," Alara noted, her gaze sharpening.

​Kane gave a quiet, heavy nod, standing up from his seat. "How long will it take you to trace it?"

​"Two days, at most," Alara answered, looking up at him with a knowing smile. "And what do I get in return for this service?"

​Kane studied her for a moment. Knowing how easily she could reject typical gifts, he gave her full leeway. "Whatever you ask for."

​"I hope you won’t complain if my price is too steep."

​"No," Kane reassured her. "I know you won’t ask for anything I cannot give."

​Alara was about to drop a subtle hint when one of the king’s guards abruptly stepped into the workshop to report news.

"Alpha... I believe another fire has broken out on the mountain."

​"My aunt claims it is urgent, so I must attend to it, Alara," the king said, stepping out into the open air. "I just hope it isn’t another pointless quarrel this time."

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