Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 143: Chapter 143

"I kissed Ragnar last night," she said in a rush. "And now I don’t know how to feel about it."

For a moment all Nieah could do was blink, certain that she must have misheard.

"You kissed his Highness?" she asked at last, disbelief bleeding into every syllable.

The very idea sounded absurd to her. She had seen the way they clashed, the biting remarks they constantly spat at each other, the sharp glares that could cut through steel, the constant tension that filled every room they shared. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

There had been times Nieah wondered if the two of them were even capable of having a conversation without it dissolving into an argument. The notion of them sharing a kiss, of all things, felt completely impossible.

And yet she knew that Circe would never lie about such a thing.

Circe let out a low groan and pressed her palms against her face. "Don’t say it like that," she muttered, her voice muffled by her hand. "It sounds so much worse when you do."

Nieah hesitated before speaking again, her tone gentle but colored with curiosity. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but how did it happen?"

Circe exhaled shakily and lowered her hands, her eyes unfocused as she tried to recall the moment.

"It just... happened," she admitted softly. "I wasn’t thinking. One moment we were talking or maybe arguing, I can’t even tell anymore and the next moment, we were sitting too close. Then he looked at me that way, and I—" She broke off, groaning again and covering her face. "Stars above, Nieah, I don’t even know what came over me." freewebnøvel.coɱ

Nieah bit her lower lip, fighting back a faint smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And how do you feel about it now?"

Circe’s gaze fell to the floor. Her voice came quieter this time, filled with conflicting emotions.

"That’s the problem. I don’t know how to feel. Have I gone mad for letting it happen?" She gave a nervous laugh, one that lacked even a trace of humor. "What sane person kisses the man whose army attacked her home?"

Nieah’s smile faded, replaced by quiet sympathy. "Your Highness..." she began softly.

But Circe pressed on, her tone bitter and heavy. "I should hate him for what he did to my home, shouldn’t I? Sometimes I do. Or at least, I try to." Her chest tightened as flashes of memory from last night invaded her thoughts.

The press of his lips against hers, the way he had pulled her closer, how firm he had felt beneath her as she sat comfortably on his lap.

"And yet..." She swallowed, almost whispering, "Gods help me, I can’t stop thinking about it."

Nieah’s brows drew together, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. "You’ve both been through so much together," she said gently. "It’s only natural that your emotions might be a bit tangled when it comes to him."

"Tangled," Circe repeated under her breath, as if testing the word. "That’s one way to put it." She sighed softly and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing loose strands away from her face.

Nieah, still appearing slightly dazed by the revelation, slowly sank into the chair by the table. "I don’t even know what to say to that," she admitted quietly.

Circe began pacing between the bed and the table, her steps restless, her words tumbling out faster now. "It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t think it would ever happen with him. Not after everything that’s happened between us."

"But it did," Nieah said, her tone even.

Circe stopped mid-step, her breath catching.

"Yes," she whispered. "It did. And now I don’t know what to do with it. When I woke up this morning, he was just there, acting like nothing had changed. As if it was the most normal thing in the world."

Nieah tilted her head slightly. "And that bothers you?"

Circe’s lips parted, her expression looking conflicted.

"I don’t know," she confessed. "I keep berating myself for even liking it and for liking him in any way. But the truth is..." She hesitated, her voice quivering slightly. "He kissed me like he meant it. And for a moment, I forgot everything, the war, the losses, the hatred. All of it."

Ragnar wasn’t the first man Circe had kissed. Yet somehow, those few kisses from him had apparently been enough to scramble her brain, leaving her thoughts scattered and her composure in ruins.

She turned sharply toward Nieah. "You think I’ve gone mad too, don’t you?"

Nieah’s eyes widened. She shook her head quickly. "No, of course not, Your Highness." She paused, choosing her words carefully before continuing. "You’re not crazy. We all have how we feel towards different things. Whatever you felt in the moment just proves how easily those feelings can change. It’s not a bad thing either."

Circe managed a faint, grateful smile, though guilt still sat heavy on her chest. "Maybe. But that doesn’t change what he’s done or what I’ve lost because of him."

Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke.

All those people who died or gravely had their lives changed flashed through her mind like ghosts. What would they think, knowing their princess had kissed the very man responsible for their ruin?

Nieah inclined her head respectfully. "No, it doesn’t change what he did," she agreed softly. "But it also doesn’t change what you feel now."

Nieah rose from her seat, her movements slow and measured, as though approaching a frightened creature that might bolt at the slightest sound.

"It might not be my place to say this," Nieah began gently, "but I think you should speak with him properly about what happened in Westeria. It’s clear that it still haunts you, and perhaps that conversation is the only way you’ll ever find peace with it."

There was something in her tone, a subtle note that hinted she knew more than she was willing to reveal.

Circe noticed immediately, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why?" she asked. "Is there something I’m not aware of?"

Nieah’s expression remained calm, but her reply was guarded. "Even if there was, I wouldn’t know," she said with a faint smile. "I’m just a housekeeper, after all."

But the look in her eyes told Circe otherwise.