Freya The Alpha Queen

FREYA's POV

 I never set out to be queen. I was happy on the battlefield. I’d earned my favor there. I was strong and fierce enough that people trembled in fear when they heard my name.

 I was about to earn a whole lot more than just the glory that came with conquest though. I was about to take the throne for myself.

 All around me, my comrades raised their mugs into the air as they waited for the king to speak.

I stared up at him, looking forward to the celebrations that came with a triumph of this magnitude.

 I should have run while I had the chance. “On this great day, we celebrate this incredible victory and I must thank one of our greatest warriors, Freya the Unstoppable.

It was through her ingenuity that we defeated the people of Kaldar, who have long been the stewards of the Port of Skali, but no longer.

Now we reign in their stead and they will speak of your honor and glory on the battlefield for years to come,” the king exclaimed with an unmistakable sense of pride.

It had been my idea to feign a retreat, only to attack from our riverboats with a volley of fire arrows in the dead of night. Our enemy had been busy celebrating their false victory when we had attacked again and taken the entire town.

And now, we were celebrating safely back within our city walls with the spoils of war that we had taken for ourselves.

“Hear! Hear!” the crowd roared.

Men and women alike slammed their pewter mugs, splashing the wooden tables with copious amounts of ale and wine. The scent of alcohol permeated across the massive room and it only fueled the fires of celebration even more fervently than ever.

I still had blood on my gray leather tunic. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to be able to get it out. I honestly didn’t know if I even wanted to. I took pride in it.

The crowd started to chant my name and I looked out across the room. I’d fought side by side with all of them since I was old enough to carry a sword and shield.

Many of them still had the war paint from battle smudged on their faces. Much of their combat armor was flecked with blood and streaks of mud, remnants from a long and hard-fought war that finally appeared to have come to a close.

Our city, the people of Valgertha, had achieved victory together and now we controlled a very important and centralized trading port that would provide food, drink, and whatever other supplies we could ever need from the rest of the world. We’d earned this celebration. Together.

 I took a rather large swig from my mug of mead and slammed it back down on the table too before the cacophony of cheers, battle cries, and applause drowned out the king’s words.

Once it settled down to a