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

Ragnar walked directly to his mother’s tent. Fortunately for him, the camp was still largely asleep, save for the guards posted at the entrance. He paused, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no unwanted eyes were watching him before turning back to the guards.

​"Who was on duty here throughout the week?" he asked in a low voice.

​"Shift rotation happened yesterday, Your Highness," one of the guards replied respectfully. "The men who guarded this post all week were relieved yesterday afternoon and have already returned to their quarters."

​Ragnar bit his lower lip, jamming his hands deep into his pockets as he let out a heavy sigh. Why did every single step of this investigation feel like an uphill battle for Queen Arianna? It almost seemed as though the Moon Goddess herself was actively working against her.

​Was it because they were keeping the truth from Kane?

​He shook his head internally. No, there was no universe in which they could confess everything to Kane right now—not when everyone knew how blinding and destructive the Alpha King’s rage could be.

​"Can you give me the names of the men who handled the previous shift?" Ragnar asked.

​"Varek and Valkor."

​"The twins?"

​"Yes, Your Highness."

​Ragnar nodded grimly. "Understood."

​He turned and began walking away. The twins had likely just finished their brutal morning training drills and were back at their barracks preparing for the day.

​He initially considered returning to his own tent to wait them out, but a sudden, sharp realization made him freeze in his tracks. If Maria truly had been set up, whoever engineered the frame-job wasn’t going to sit idly by and let two guards answer questions. The real culprit would be moving to cover their tracks.

​Without wasting another second, Ragnar pivoted toward the trail leading down to the Gammas’ quarters, where the twins would be easiest to locate.

​Within five minutes, he arrived at the bustling sub-camp set aside specifically for the guards and high-ranking warriors.

Deep, booming laughter and the low bass of drinking songs echoed through the morning air as men moved back and forth, cleaning weapons and tending to their gear.

The atmosphere down here was entirely different from the rest of the tribe. Ragnar always loved the rugged energy of the warrior grounds, but as the men began to notice his presence, the boisterous noise rapidly died down.

​The warriors halted in their tracks, snapping to rigid attention as if preparing for battle before their prince.

​Ragnar walked past them quietly, scanning the crowd until his eyes landed on two familiar blonde men standing near a weapon rack. He stopped in front of them. "Varek and Valkor?"

​The first twin blinked in surprise before answering respectfully, "Yes, my lord."

​"Come with me," Ragnar instructed, before turning to address the surrounding warriors. "Carry on with your business."

​Immediately, the crowd dispersed and the noise of the camp slowly resumed. Ragnar led the twins into a nearby tent and ordered the guards inside to vacate the space so he could have complete privacy.

​"My lord... did we happen to cause trouble without realizing it?" one of the twins asked nervously, clearly praying the answer was no.

​"Which one are you?" Ragnar asked, studying them. It wasn’t hard to tell them apart once he looked closely. The one who had spoken wore his blonde hair in neat, tight dreadlocks, while the other kept his straight and loose over his shoulders.

​"Valkor, my lord," the one with dreads answered.

​"Then you must be Varek," Ragnar said, pointing to the other. "Relax, there is nothing to worry about. I am going to go straight to the point so we can all get on with our day."

​The two brothers exchanged brief, cautious glances, standing straight as Ragnar stepped closer.

"We are listening, my lord," the twins chorused in unison, standing at rigid attention.

​"You were the guards assigned to my mother’s tent," Ragnar began, his voice dropping into a low, commanding register. The men nodded in affirmation, and Ragnar quickly pressed on before anyone could interrupt them. "Can you recall every single person who entered that tent over the past five days?"

​The twins exchanged a brief glance before Varek cleared his throat. "I can recall, my lord."

​"Good. Name them."

​"The Alpha King and Queen Arianna came once on the night your mother fell ill, alongside Lord Ethan," Varek recounted, ticking the names off on his fingers. "Shortly after that, the medicine women arrived, though they left before the King did."

​"The personal maids remained inside throughout the night," Valkor chimed in. "And, of course, your sister, Princess Samantha. She goes in and out of your mother’s quarters constantly."

​"No unusual movements? That was truly all?" Ragnar asked, searching their faces carefully to see if they were holding back out of fear.

​"Princess Samantha eventually left with the King and Queen, but she returned a few hours later," Varek added, scratching the back of his neck as he pieced the timeline together. "Lord Cassius arrived shortly after her. Ethan was with him...they both tried to enter the tent, but Princess Samantha refused to let them inside. Eventually, the two gave up and left, and your sister went back inside alone."

​"Hmm..." Ragnar hummed softly, nodding his head.

​There was a distinct edge of hesitation in Varek’s voice, as if he were treading lightly around a dangerous truth, while Valkor had gone completely tight-lipped.

​"I brought you two in here for real information about what transpired near my mother’s tent, and you are giving me routine logs," Ragnar said, leaning forward to press them. "Why are you even posted as sentries if you cannot recall the details that actually matter?"

​"Forgive us, my lord, but we have named everyone who approached the main entrance," Varek insisted, bowing his head quickly.

​"Did you witness anything strange? A shadow near the back of the tent? An unauthorized servant?" Ragnar demanded, his tone turning dangerously quiet. "Speak freely. If you are afraid, you have my word as a prince...no one will ever know you spoke to me."

Varek nodded, looking up thoughtfully. "That night, your sister returned to the tent and dismissed everyone... including all the maids. A few minutes later, Princess Samantha emerged looking nervous and strangely anxious. We assumed Aunt Freya had scolded her, so I stepped inside the tent to ensure everything was alright."

​"There was nothing wrong with Aunt Freya," Valkor chimed in. "She was sleeping soundly and completely unharmed. Yet your sister’s behavior was undeniably suspicious."

​"Why would you jump to such conclusions?" Ragnar’s brows pulled into a deep furrow. "It is her own mother’s tent."

​"We know she often displays mood swings when exiting your mother’s quarters," Valkor explained calmly. "But that specific night was different... it looked as though she was actively sneaking away."

​"And naturally, she headed straight toward the servants’ quarters before veering toward the market," Varek added. "I didn’t think much of it at the time, but her actions raised a few red flags."

​"Something was definitely amiss," Valkor continued. "Shortly after, we were discharged from our guard duty for the night. Samantha personally informed us that the order came directly from Aunt Freya."

​Ragnar stood frozen, unable to utter a single word as he fought to process everything he was hearing.

​Did they truly just say they were dismissed that very night?

​The guards currently stationed at his mother’s post had assured him that the guard shift was swapped just yesterday. That meant either the post guards were lying through their teeth... or the twins were standing right here spinning a web of deceit.

​Ragnar raised a hand and rubbed his forehead gently, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes as he wondered what kind of dangerous, treacherous game he had just stumbled into.

​"That was precisely what happened, My Lord," Varek said, offering a deep bow.

​Ragnar studied the twins intently. They appeared genuine and thoroughly shaken, but he needed absolute certainty. "Listen to me carefully. If I discover you have lied to me, I promise you will be dead before the sun sets today."

​"We would never lie to you, My Lord! We speak only the truth," Varek answered, genuine fear glinting in his eyes. "What could we possibly gain from such a lie? Samantha is our princess, and your mother is the matriarch of this pack. A single false word against them means execution."

​That was undeniably true. Ragnar nodded slowly, his gaze shifting back and forth between the brothers. "You are dismissed."

​His heavy silence clearly unnerved the young guards, but they bowed once more and departed without another word.

​As Ragnar made his way back toward the main camp, a whirlwind of questions plagued his mind.

He knew his mother was fond of political maneuvering and petty mind games, but framing an innocent handmaiden for theft felt far beneath her usual ambitions. Why would she sink to such a level?

What had possessed her to inflict such cruelty on a helpless girl simply to feed her bitter hatred for Queen Arianna?

​By the time he reached Aunt Freya’s tent, the faint light of dawn was breaking over the horizon, clearing away the lingering gloom of the night.

​His mother looked up, clearly startled to find him stepping into her quarters at such an ungodly hour. Ragnar rarely visited unless she explicitly summoned him or a matter of dire urgency demanded his attention.

​"Greetings, Mother," Ragnar said, his tone icy and distant as he intentionally avoided her gaze.

​"G-Greetings, my lion. What is with that dark expression? Surely it is far too early in the morning to be frowning like that," she chided softly.

​"My day is on the verge of being ruined," Ragnar replied, his voice tense. "Whether it gets better or far worse depends entirely on how you answer my questions."

​Aunt Freya’s brow furrowed in confusion. She studied his stormy face, wondering if he had suffered a blow to the head on his walk over. "What on earth is going on, Ragnar? Why are you taking out your anger on your poor mother?"

​"Did you order the twin guards to be replaced?" Ragnar demanded, raising his eyes to gauge her reaction.

​She looked genuinely bewildered rather than guilty or afraid. "The ones who were stationed at your entrance the night you fell ill?"

​"What are you talking about, Ragnar? I have nothing to do with guard rotations...you know that is Cassius’s duty. Is there a problem?"

​"Are you absolute sure, Mother?" he pressed, stepping closer.

​"Yes, I am sure! Why am I even standing here arguing with you about sentries?" Aunt Freya’s tone shifted rapidly, morphing into sharp annoyance. "It is entirely too early for your nonsense. Go check on your sister."

​Instead of obeying her command and turning to leave, Ragnar’s hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. His features contorted with venomous rage as he spat, "It was Samantha. It had to be her."

​"What is going on?" Freya demanded, her worry mounting. "What did she do now?"

​"I am going to handle her myself. I swear to you, Mother, I am going to kill your daughter," Ragnar declared with a grim nod, taking slow steps backward until he backed out of the tent entirely.

​Aunt Freya stood frozen in utter confusion, her heart pounding. Sensing the sheer murderous intent radiating off Ragnar this morning, she poured herself a cup of water from the nearby jar, swallowed it in quick gulps, and immediately rushed out after him to prevent her children from tearing each other apart.

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