Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 128: Chapter 128

Nieah was just a few steps away when Circe stopped suddenly, eyes trained on the courtyard, on the prince. Confused, she stopped moving as well.

Apparently, her pausing was all Casilo needed to sidle up next to her.

"What is happening?" Nieah asked, making sure to keep her voice down. She had willingly gone along with Circe without bothering to ask any questions, and she was now realizing that she had let the princess pull her into a situation she knew nothing about.

"Her Highness was heading towards the armory this morning when I saw her. She knows that only the guards and a selected few are allowed inside," Casilo explained. "I told her that if she wanted something from the armory, she would have to ask for the prince’s permission first."

Even without being told, Nieah knew that Circe must have gotten annoyed at being told that. In any other circumstance, the lady of the house should have had free rein over the manor and been able to go wherever she pleased.

But Ragnar and Circe’s marriage was much more complicated and different from what was considered the norm.

"Well, do you think the prince will agree to her request?" Nieah asked, still in that same low voice.

Casilo chuckled, eyes staring straight ahead. "His Highness will agree to anything that woman asks as easily as folding wet parchment. It’s just fun to watch it happen."

For a long heartbeat, Circe didn’t move. She just stood there, watching Ragnar from afar as a faint breeze rustled through the courtyard, tugging at the loose strands of her hair.

Then she watched Casilo walk ahead of her to Ragnar and say something to him in hushed tones. No doubt telling him about how he’d spotted her heading towards the armory.

It was Nieah’s polite cough beside her that finally snapped Circe back into action.

Ragnar turned a second later, his eyes landing on her almost immediately, as if he had already known she was there.

"Princess," he greeted, his tone light, carrying that faint edge of amusement she had come to recognize. "You’re up early."

As opposed to the last few days when she had intentionally overslept just to avoid him in the mornings. In her defense, she had been angry at him for being so overbearing and wanted her displeasure to be known.

Circe straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, ignoring the warmth creeping into her cheeks. In hindsight, she realized how immature her actions had been.

"You’re one to talk," she said. "I see you’ve decided to terrorize poor Kostia before breakfast."

Kostia, who had been standing nearby, gave a small bow and wisely retreated without a word.

Circe almost smiled. He clearly had no intention of being caught in whatever this exchange was about to become.

Ragnar watched him go before turning his gaze back to her.

"He offered to spar," Ragnar said mildly, wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. "I didn’t force him."

"Mm," Circe murmured skeptically. "And if I asked Kostia, would he say the same?"

Ragnar’s lips twitched. "Probably not."

She fought the urge to smile. "At least you’re self-aware." freёwebnovel.com

She was already being friendly to the enemy; she would not smile at him as well. That was what she kept telling herself as he closed the remaining distance between them.

He studied her from the corner of his eye while returning his sword to its scabbard.

"What brings you here? I thought you wanted to remain in our bedchambers."

She crossed her arms, tilting her chin upward. "And whose fault was that?"

He smiled faintly.

"Mine," he said, though he did not sound the least bit sorry. He refused to apologize for doing what he could to keep her safe, even if it involved always having eyes on her whereabouts.

"Of course." Circe sighed dramatically. "Tell me, is there anything in this estate that I am allowed to do without your permission?"

"I can think of a few things," he replied smoothly, stepping even closer. "Breathing, for instance. Sleeping. Complaining."

Her brows arched, outraged. "Complaining?"

"Yes," he said, pretending to consider it. "You’re quite accomplished at that."

Her mind did not like the way he was looking at her in that moment, his gaze slowly raking over her body like a gentle caress. Her body, on the other hand, gave an involuntary shiver.

He was still shirtless and she didn’t know how to feel about that.

That fae wine, as she was just coming to realize, must have messed with her in more ways than one.

Her lips pursed. "You’re insufferable."

"And you’re predictable," he countered easily.

Circe’s lips pressed into a thin line, but her eyes sparkled with a hint of mirth.

Speaking to him like this, so lighthearted and free, almost made her forget how annoying he could be at times.

"Predictable? I snuck out of the room, evaded your guards, and almost reached the armory without being caught. That hardly seems predictable."

"You were caught by Casilo," Ragnar said dryly. "At the first turn."

She huffed. "Technicalities."

His voice lost some of its humor when he next spoke. "Casilo told me you were headed to my armory. Care to explain why?"

Circe hesitated, weighing her words carefully. A lie would crumble too easily under his gaze, and a half-truth might just invite more of his suspicion.

So she opted for telling him the truth or at least the closest thing to honesty she could manage.

"I wanted to borrow a bow," she said quietly.

Ragnar’s brows lifted. "A bow?"

"Yes." Her voice softened slightly, though she kept her chin raised. "For Rowen. I thought I’d start teaching him."

Ragnar’s expression shifted slightly, the change almost invisible but just enough for her to notice.

The amusement in him faded, replaced by something thoughtful. He nodded once. "You want to teach him archery?"

"Is that a problem?" she asked, bracing herself for him to refuse her request.

His gaze dropped to her interlocked fingers.

"No," he said simply. "It’s not a problem."

Despite hoping for his approval, the ease with which he gave his answer still startled her. "That’s it? You’re not going to argue?"

"Oh, I could," he said, a corner of his mouth curving upward. "But I would lose. You’re stubborn when you’ve made up your mind."

Circe blinked, thrown off by his frankness. "I... yes, well. That’s true."

He chuckled softly. "I’ll have Kostia fetch you a bow. You’ll need to test it before you start teaching your brother."

Circe frowned. "Will you let me pick one myself?"

"Of course," he said easily, before narrowing his eyes at her. "That’s only if you promise not to stab anyone with an arrow."

Her glare was immediate. "I would never do such a thing."

He responded by giving her a droll look.

She groaned, rolling her eyes. "You’re impossible."

"Only to you," Ragnar said, his tone warm but teasing. "To everyone else, I’m quite agreeable."

"Then perhaps everyone else has terrible taste."