Ragnar walked out of the room and closed the heavy oak door behind him with a soft click. He had barely made it halfway down the dimly lit hall that led back to his study when he spotted Casilo striding toward him, each step purposeful and measured, like a man on a mission.
Even from a distance, Ragnar could sense the tension radiating off him. His hackles rose instinctively, a silent warning thrumming through his veins. In Casilo's hand was a folded piece of parchment, creased and worn from hurried handling.
"Gonan sent word from the capital," Casilo said without preamble when he came into speaking distance, his voice tight. "The queen has reportedly detained two of her ladies-in-waiting and about four of her personal lady's maids without reason."
Ragnar's eyes hardened instantly.
