The halls of the palace were quiet, the only sound being the echo of the staff’s and knights’ slow and horrified breathing. The viking walked down the corridor and into the palace gardens, which had once been known for being the most bright and beautiful in all of the kingdom. But now.. roses, bushes, lilacs, daises all alike were splattered with the blood of the royal family

As the scent of copper and fear filled his nose, Asmund couldn’t help but grin, a sharp set of teeth on display only adding to his intimidating appearance. After so long, he’d finally done it. The kingdom was his, his to rule, his to do with as he pleased… And no one could stop him

Before Asmund couldn’t help relish in his victory for too long, a sudden cry broke through the otherwise silent air. It wasn’t the cry of a peasant pleading for their life, or the cry of someone in pain… It was a child

Asmund turned on his heels, his brow furrowing deeply as he caught sight of one of his men, carrying a wailing toddler in his arms. He’d ordered all of those under him to leave no royal alive… and he’d thought they’d done so. It seemed they’d missed one

“What is that?”