Free Web NovelChapter 158: Chapter 158
Ragnar came to sit beside her on the bed, the box still in his hands, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
Circe could feel the warmth of him immediately, that quiet, magnetic presence of his that always managed to twist her up from inside no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
It made no sense why she still felt that way when she just had her lips on his moments ago, felt his breath mingle with hers. Yet somehow it was his simple nearness now that felt far more dangerous.
Refusing to agonize over it any further, she focused instead on the box he carried.
Ragnar opened it carefully, revealing an assortment of carved wooden figurines nestled inside. The figurines varied in size and shape, some were of animals and other objects while others were of people just like the one Ragnar gave to Rowen.
Circe leaned closer, her breath catching as her eyes roamed over the delicate carvings. She was in awe of them and for once, she didn’t even bother hiding it. ƒrēewebnovel.com
"Did you make these?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. She looked from the open box up at him and found that he was already watching her.
" I did," he said simply. There wasn’t a hint of deceit in his tone. There never was when he spoke to her.
Circe blinked, momentarily taken aback. "But there are so many," she murmured.
She couldn’t help but wonder when he had the time to make them. He always seemed preoccupied with one thing or another. He was either sparring, confined to his study sorting through documents, or out with Casilo handling business outside the estate.
The only free time he had, he chose to spend with her during their riding lessons. So when had he done this?
Not to mention that the figurines were all so skillfully made that they looked like the work of a skilled artisan and not the work of a royal.
"I make them whenever I travel," Ragnar said, running his fingers lightly over the figures. "Most of these I carved during my journeys to distant kingdoms. There’s usually not much to do when I stop for the day to set up camp, and with so much time on my hands..." He trailed off, his gaze distant, as if lost in the memory of those quiet nights.
Circe noticed that some of the carvings were painted while others had been left bare, as though he had run out of colors or didn’t have enough time to finish them.
"They’re beautiful," she said softly, meaning every word.
He knew her well enough to understand that she would never say something merely to flatter him. So if she called the figurines beautiful, then she truly meant it.
Ragnar’s lips curved into a genuine smile, not the smug one she had grown used to. The corners of his eyes crinkled, tugging faintly at the scar that ran from his left brow down to his cheek.
He was handsome when he smiled like that. The kind of handsome that caught her breath without warning. His dark hair was loose and fell over his shoulders.
He shaved his beard before leaving but now his jaw was dusted with dark stubble, and there was a look in his eyes that softened everything else about him.
Circe found that he was quite nice to look at. Not just nice to look at, Ragnar was also very attractive, this was a fact that she had always been aware of but before now his looks had never mattered or particularly affected her like the way it was doing now.
Her chest fluttered in a way that betrayed her composure.
Was it because she had kissed him? she wondered silently.
Was that why she suddenly found herself so aware of him, and of his nearness, the way he smelled faintly of smoked sandalwood?
But even as she asked herself that, she knew the kiss wasn’t the only reason. It was only part of it.
Without even realizing it, they had grown closer over the course of their marriage and each time they spent together only made it worse.
But Circe wasn’t so far gone enough not to recognize that this line of thinking was wrong and that she couldn’t keep indulging whatever this is between them.
It was a slow, gradual descent, one that ended with Circe throwing caution to the wind and letting Ragnar pull her onto his lap.
But she wasn’t completely lost to it, not yet. She knew this was dangerous, and knew she couldn’t keep indulging whatever it was that existed between them. She couldn’t afford to.
"I started making them when I first joined my father’s army," Ragnar said, his voice breaking the silence. freёwebnoѵel.com
Circe tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. She didn’t know how long ago that had been or, truthfully, much about him at all. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know his exact age. If he were human, she would have guessed late twenties, maybe early thirties. But Ragnar wasn’t human, and with vampires, time worked differently. They aged slowly, and lived longer than humans in general.
"Is this all of them?" she asked, gesturing toward the box.
"No," he replied. "No, there was more but I gave them out to some of the members of my troops who had children back home. I plan to give these ones away too. There’s no point keeping them here to gather dust."
He paused, glancing at her. Then, as if struck by a thought, he reached into the box and drew out a small figurine shaped like a horse. It was painted a deep brown with white patches along its flank, and its mane was glossy black.
He held it out to her.
Circe stared at him, then at the wooden horse before tentatively taking it from his hand. The wood was smooth beneath her fingers, warm from his touch.
Her chest tightened as she looked at it, her eyes softening the longer she held it. She didn’t know why, but out of all the things he had ever given her, this one felt different. It touched something deep inside her, a part of her she hadn’t expected.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
She didn’t have to accept it, but she did because she wanted to. Because she liked it. She liked it very much, in fact.
