A week had passed since we left Ve?y to py intermediaries, and now we’d finally rolled into Normandy to deliver King Robert’s answer to the count. He’d agreed to let the ships pass, and Count Thibaut—a fat, balding bastard with white hair—invited me to dine with him that night in his castle. We sat at a long wooden table in the dim hall, the air thick with the smell of roasted boar and cheap wine. It was just me, the count, and his wife—a scrawny little thing, maybe 16, with no curves to speak of, so she didn’t do shit for my cock. His grandma was dead, sadly, so no GILF to fuck here, which pissed me off. While we ate, Thibaut shoveled meat into his mouth and mumbled something in Frankish, a nguage I barely understood. His wife transted, her voice soft and annoying: "He asks what your next aspirations are."

  I chewed a tough chunk of boar, swallowing it down with a swig of wine, and answered straight. "In a few days, things’ll shift. The Bck Sea Cn’s gonna have a new leader." Thibaut choked on his drink, wine spttering across his fat chin as he coughed, his eyes bulging. Through his wife, he asked, "You pnning to kill Ragnar?" I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "You’ll find out soon enough," I said, my voice low and steady. I finished my pte, shoved my chair back with a scrape, and stood up. Thibaut hauled his bloated ass up too, staring at me like I’d grown horns. "I’m gonna rule the fucking world," I told him, my grin sharp. He blinked, stunned, then let out a nervous ugh, figuring I wasn’t serious. He stuck out his meaty hand, saying through his wife, "Well, give it a shot." I gripped his hand hard, giving it a rough shake, then turned and walked out of the dining hall, my cock already stirring as I thought about my pns.

  Back in my room, I found Emily sprawled naked on the bed, snoring like a hog, her fat tits and hairy cunt on full dispy. Fucking old slut loves teasing me, I thought, ughing to myself. My pants hit the floor fast, my dick springing up hard as steel, and I climbed on top of her, shoving it straight into her pussy with no warning. She jolted awake, gasping, "Again?!" her voice croaky with sleep. I growled, pounding into her, "Why the fuck are you naked, you bitch? You’re provoking me!" She moaned, her hands cwing at the sheets, and shot back, "You ordered me to sleep naked!" I didn’t remember saying that, but it sounded like some drunk shit I’d pull. Still, I wasn’t giving her the win. "Liar," I snarled, fucking her harder, my hips smming her fat ass into the creaky bed. I grabbed her wrinkled face and kissed her rough, shoving my tongue into her mouth, tasting the stale meat she’d eaten earlier as I drilled her deeper, her pussy slicking up fast around my cock.

  _________

  We’d finally made it back to Ve?y, and the return trip was a hell of a lot smoother than the way out—less storms, less bullshit. Before we hit the shore, I gathered Eldrid and Ketill on the rocking deck of the longship, the salty wind whipping through us. "Got two things to say," I barked over the crash of waves. "First, I’m taking Emily as my wife." Their jaws dropped, eyes bugging out like I’d lost my mind. "You serious?" Ketill asked, scratching his head. "Dead fucking serious," I shot back. He shrugged, muttering, "Alright, whatever." Eldrid didn’t say shit—just stared, a tear glistening in her eye. I knew she’d been in love with me for years, but I didn’t give a fuck about her puppy-dog feelings. I plowed on. "Second, I’m going to ciming my mother as my second wife and challenging my father to a duel to the death—for Líf’s cunt and the Cn."

  The air went still. Emily, standing nearby, gaped at me, her wrinkled face pale. Ketill blinked, dumbstruck, and Eldrid’s tear finally fell, her fists clenching. "You mean it?" Emily croaked, her voice shaky. "Yeah," I said, my grin sharp as an axe. "And if you stick with me, I’ll give you big roles in the cn." They hesitated, exchanging looks—Ketill’s shrug turning wary, Eldrid’s heartbreak hardening—but they nodded. Loyalty or fear, I didn’t care which, as long as they followed.

  We docked, and the vilge was alive with noise as we stepped onto the shore. Everyone was waiting at my house, a roaring crowd spilling out the door. I shoved it open, and the cheers hit me like a wave—men and women howling, spping my back, a feast of meat and mead spread across tables. At the hall’s center, an altar loomed with two giant chairs: Líf sat in one, draped in a stunning dress that hugged her massive tits and ass, her blue hair gleaming; Ragnar was beside her, fresh war paint streaking his scarred face. The cn roared louder as I strode in, Emily, Ketill, and Eldrid gging behind, fully aware of the shitstorm I was about to unleash.

  The crowd parted, men and women roaring my name—"Asvald! Asvald!"—as I strode forward, Emily, Ketill, and Eldrid trailing behind, aware of the storm I was about to unleash. Ragnar stood up, grinning wide, opening her arms with a warm smile he said, her voice sweet and fatherly. "Welcome home, my son,". I ignored Ragnar, brushing past him without a gnce, and went straight for Líf. The hall fell dead silent, every eye on me as I stopped in front of her. She looked up, surprised, still seated.

  Without a word, I yanked my pants down, my cock springing free, and unleashed a thick, yellow stream of piss right onto her face. The hall erupted in gasps—Líf flinched, her blue eyes widening as the hot jet soaked her hair and dripped down her cheeks, staining her dress. Ragnar’s face twisted from shock to pure rage, his fists clenching as he roared, "You fucking white-haired bastard!" The crowd froze, stunned, some hands twitching toward weapons. Pissing on someone was a marriage cim in Ve?y—but pissing on a married woman meant challenging her husband to a duel to the death, winner taking her and all his shit. I’d just decred war on my own father for my mother pussy and the Bck Sea Cn, and every fucker in the room knew it.