Chapter Forty-Eight: Preparations for the Coronation of the New King

Seven years later...

"Ms. Polly, what happened next? What became of Uncle?" Alexander Robertson lay tucked under his covers, his eyes shimmering with curiosity as he pressed Polly, who was dressed in the attire of a Norse noblewoman, Lady Duti.

In another bed, Margaret appeared uninterested in the story, her gaze fixed on the ceiling; however, her ears were quietly pricked, stealthily listening to Polly’s answer.

Polly smiled, a look of reminiscence in her eyes as she began to recount the latter half of the tale:

"Just as the enemy was about to breach the town, Lord Harold, heroic and fearless, led a band of loyal warriors to drink the bear-man potion secretly brewed by High Priestess Sina. In an instant, they felt the surge of Woden’s divine power, their strength doubled.

These warriors, like a tempest, broke through the enemy’s encirclement and charged out of the town gates. Fighting side-by-side with the Huscarls, they finally crushed the enemy completely. Lord Robert seized the opportunity to pursue, defeating the shattered ranks and even severing the heads of two hostile leaders.

Yet, the price of victory was heavy. The Jarl, severely wounded in the battle, passed away shortly after. His dying wish was to be with his wife, Lady Oney, forever; thus, their ashes were buried together.

In his final moments, the Jarl followed the last wishes of his wife, Lady Oney Field, and the prophecies of the gods, passing the position of Chieftain-Lord to Lady Duti, who was still in her swaddling clothes."

Polly let out a long sigh, her face weary, but she kissed Alexander on the forehead. "Alright, Alexander, time to sleep. Good night!"

"Good night, Ms. Polly!" Alexander waved his hand and closed his eyes.

Polly blew out the oil lamp, closed the door, and left.

Margaret’s expression was complex. She had assumed that after her father’s death, a power struggle would have ensued within the territory.

However, the reality was beyond her expectations.

Under the pressure of external forces and the threat of death, everyone in the territory had become uncharacteristically united.

Driven by the warriors’ berserker rage, they had managed to defeat the siege of two territories despite being at a numerical disadvantage.

Robert had been granted the title of military Jarl and, under Harold’s conferment, became the great lord of "Svitalson Town."

Polly, who had encouraged female warriors to join the fight, earned Harold’s appreciation and became the female great lord of "Skalvik Town," concurrently serving as the Chieftain’s Chief Minister.

The two of them, along with Sina, who had succeeded to the position of High Priestess, were entrusted by the mortally wounded Harold with the care of Margaret, who was then less than six months old.

However, Ralph’s accidental death, coupled with the successive disappearances of those in the Huscarls’ left unit who had participated in the murder of Polly’s father, Jarl Ludwig, led Robert and Sina to suspect that Polly had murdered Ralph.

Although there was no evidence, the three often disagreed on political matters.

But Margaret knew the truth. She knew it wasn’t Polly; it was Harold who had given the order.

Before he died, he had summoned Ralph and told him of his concerns for the future.

Learning of Oney’s dying wish, Ralph, in order to maintain the balance of the territory, suggested a plan to Harold.

He decided to kill the members of the Huscarls’ left unit to create suspicion, thereby keeping the factions within the territory in equilibrium.

Coincidentally, because Ayana had passed away from a postpartum infection, Harold had been keeping the infant twins by his side.

Thus, Margaret had overheard the entire process. She learned of Ralph’s plan and his sacrifice.

Ralph had not died; with Harold’s consent, he had been disfigured and lost a leg during the "assassination."

He chose to look after Oney’s donkey in the stables, unwilling to acknowledge anyone.

Ever since she could move freely, Margaret had gone to cheer Ralph up almost every day.

She hoped Ralph could emerge from the shadow of death and start a new life.

But regrettably, she could not confess everything. It was her secret; she could tell no one.

"Margaret?" Alexander’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Margaret, adjusting to the darkness, snapped back to reality and looked at Alexander under the glow of the northern lights outside the window.

"I am issuing a traditional challenge to you!" Alexander said, his voice excited.

"Why challenge me?" Margaret frowned, puzzled.

"I want to be a powerful chieftain who protects the people, just like Uncle Harold. Besides, the Chieftain-Lord has always been a man. As the only male in the family, you should yield the position to me!" Alexander sat up, his voice filled with determination.

"Heh..." Margaret laughed dismissively, thinking to herself, "Give him an inch and he takes a mile; he’s getting more daring by the day."

She spoke aloud, "I refuse your challenge!"

"What?" Alexander was stunned. He widened his eyes, unable to believe his ears. "How can you refuse? You can’t refuse, it’s tradition! According to tradition, you must accept the challenge!"

Margaret replied offhandedly, "Following tradition, I refuse your challenge! You were found in a trash heap; you have no family blood in your veins! Therefore, as Chieftain, I strip you of your right of inheritance and your status as a family member. By tradition, you are now my slave!"

Alexander panicked and shouted, "No, you’re lying! And that’s not tradition!"

Margaret raised an eyebrow in the dark and asked, "How can you prove it isn't?"

Alexander was speechless. His eyes darted around, and he suddenly said, "Uncle Robert said that a true warrior should face any predicament and fear no challenge! Not avoid battle with cowardly excuses!"

Margaret scoffed and retorted, "That’s something you said yourself, isn't it? Robert wouldn't pay you any mind! Besides, I am not a warrior; I am your Chieftain, your Lord, your King!"

"No, you must duel me! The Oath Ring belongs to me!" Alexander jumped down, his bare feet hitting the wooden floor, and pointed his wooden sword at Margaret, who was lying in bed.

Margaret took a deep breath, her expression darkening.

"Accept my challenge! Once I become Chieftain, I will allow you, defeated, to humbly become my maid and wash my feet every day!" Alexander laughed heartily, seemingly convinced of his victory, envisioning his glorious moment.

Margaret finally lost her patience. She grabbed Alexander’s wooden sword, wrenched it away with brute, unskilled force, and snapped it in two.

Taller than him, she pulled down Alexander’s trousers and struck him several times with the broken wooden sword.

Alexander struggled fiercely, but Margaret’s strength was clearly greater. She had developed faster, was taller, and naturally stronger.

A minute later, Alexander, his face smeared with snot and tears, was pinned face-down on the bed.

"Are you wrong?" Margaret asked coldly.

Alexander was somewhat defiant. "I wasn't ready! If you’ve got the guts, do it again!"

"Crow like a chicken!" Margaret ignored his excuses and began tickling his stomach.

"Impossible! Hahaha... you cannot insult a future Chieftain!" Alexander laughed wildly, struggling.

She pinned him down firmly and pinched his stomach hard. "Regrettably, I have won!"

"Ow!"

Facing her spoiled, arrogant twin brother, Margaret let him go and returned to her own bed, pulling the blanket up.

"You couldn't possibly be stronger than me. Even the big guard is no match for me. We must compete again!"

*That's because everyone is afraid to offend you and lets you win,* she thought to herself. Educating the spoiled Alexander was a major problem.

She said, "If you want to invite the High Priestess’s reprimand, feel free to shout louder!"

As the siblings bickered, the twenty-year-old Sina, Robert, and Polly gathered around the bonfire in the Great Hall, apparently discussing something.

"According to Lady Oney’s prophecy, I have consulted the gods. Margaret Duti shall be crowned King on her eighth birthday the day after tomorrow. We need to prepare in advance!" High Priestess Sina began, her voice echoing in the hall. "If you have no objections, then it is decided!"

Chief Minister Polly nodded and said, "I will order the goldsmiths to make the crown. I have a piece of parchment here with the designs; you need to confirm which one to choose!"

A maid handed over a stack of parchment, which Polly took. At the very top was a lightweight crown, similar to a headband.

She distributed the drawings for the two to see. "I prefer this one at the top; it is neither heavy nor lacking in nobility. Below are the garments for the coronation. You can take a look. I am hesitant about which one to choose—it shouldn't be too flashy, or it will look undignified, but it cannot be too somber either."

Great Lord Robert looked them over, frowned, shook his head, and said, "I think it is better to let her decide for herself; see which one she likes. As for the lords, I will issue a summons, and they will arrive in time for the new King’s coronation!"