ragnar peeked over at the queen and then back eryndor. there was an order engraved deep in his bones — to attack anytime he touched an enemy. she wouldn't call off the order just because they were in public. she'd make it his fault if the order caused him to make a fool of himself. he couldn't allow that to happen — couldn't allow any mistakes to be made. "I'm not attempting to pick a fight with you , king eryndor." he spoke in a tight voice. the words were foreign — a weird formality that burned his tongue. "let us keep this occasion civil , yes?"