Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 173: Chapter 173

An amused smile took over Jayran’s entire face. " So you do care about me."

Ragnar didn’t answer but he also didn’t bother denying it either. He hated Jayran’s antics but it didn’t mean he was just going to stand back and watch something bad happen to him. And unlike Hairan, Jayran had never truly done anything to hurt him before.

Ragnar rose from his chair too and closed the distance with measured steps, stopping beside Jayran in front of the heart. Without a word, he crouched and began arranging the scattered logs, shifting them into place until they formed a compact structure around the ring.

He struck a match and touched it to the kindling. A flicker of flame caught, then surged, licking hungrily over the ring. The emerald glowed fiercely for a moment before the heat consumed it entirely. Then it let out a low hiss as the molten light faded into embers.

Ragnar straightened, and the two of them stood side by side, watching the fire in silence. The warmth from the hearth spread through the room and a sense of finality settled between them.

Jayran might have been the one who stole the ring and smuggled it out of the palace, but it was still Ragnar that ultimately lit the fire to burn it. Both their names were now inexplicably tied to the crime. If one of them goes down, the other would follow suit.

" We will both hang for this." Ragnar muttered and it wasn’t to scare Jayran. He said it because that was what would most likely happen when the queen found out.

" Without a doubt." Jayran said, then doubled over with laughter like he found the entire situation amusing.

****

Later that day, several maids entered Ragnar’s room carrying loaded trays of food, and seconds later the room was filled with the savoury aromas.

The maids laid the plates down with care, taking their time to properly set the table and soon plates of roasted pheasant with herbs, glazed carrots, a dish of seasoned green beans, and bowls of fresh stew lined the table.

A slender vase was placed at the center of the table, stuffed with fresh flowers procured from the garden only minutes ago.

Once everything was done, the maids bowed and turned towards the door without a word.

Ragnar, who had watched them bring in the food, glanced at Circe now and gestured toward the table.

"Join me," he said simply. The dinner was just for the two of them.

Circe obliged and took her seat, settling herself across from him. Her eyes flicked briefly over the carefully prepared meal and soon the clink of silverware against plates was the only sound filling the room.

As they ate, Circe noticed how unusually quiet he was. His eyes, which were normally alert and attentive, seemed distant now. He moved methodically, cutting his food into bite sized chunks but his focus was fixed somewhere beyond the walls of the room.

Curiosity finally overcame her.

She set down her cutlery and called his name to get his attention.

"Ragnar?"

She waited for him to look up at her.

" Is something wrong?" she asked gently, holding his gaze. Concern was evident in her tone and she couldn’t change that no matter what she did.

He shook his head slightly, forcing a small, reassuring smile.

"Nothing’s wrong. I was just a bit lost in thought," he said, and left it at that.

Circe nodded, not truly accepting the vague reply, but also knowing that she really couldn’t do anything if he didn’t want to tell her about it. She picked up her cutlery once more.

The truth, however, was clear to Ragnar alone. The memory of the ring consumed him and it was all he could think about. Its power, and the way the queen had wielded it to control and manipulate everyone around him.

And yet, when he and Jayran had destroyed it, it had felt oddly anticlimactic. The ease with which it burned in the hearth left him unnerved, a strange hollowness gnawing at him.

It made him feel restless in a way he didn’t understand, coupled with the way he knew the queen would react afterwards and it was a miracle that Ragnar could sit still.

He pushed the thoughts aside and shifted the conversation. "My brother Jayran will be staying over for the night."

Circe blinked, surprised.

She remembered Jayran. The first and only time they ever spoke with each other was at the wedding, and Jayran had spilled a knife into the pocket of her dress. A knife that had come in handy later that night as Ragnar used it to fight off the assassin that snuck into their room.

"I would prefer it if the two of you never had to interact," Ragnar continued, his voice measured, "but I know that it can’t be helped, given that we are married and he is still my brother."

Circe considered her next question carefully. "Is he dangerous? Like the queen?"

Ragnar’s expression hardened just slightly, though he spoke calmly. "Yes, he can be, if he truly wants to. But he has no reason to harm you, so you don’t need to worry."

Circe’s fork hovered above her plate, her appetite waning slowly. "So Jayran has no reason to want to harm me but Prince Hairan and the queen do?"

Ragnar studied her for a long moment, his gaze heavy, and intense. The look in his eyes made her shiver. When he finally spoke, there was a severity in his tone that she had never witnessed in him before.

"Yes," he said quietly. "And so does the king’s chief advisor."

This was something she should have known already, Ragnar thought to himself. He knew about her even before they officially met and he also knew that she had been a member of her father’s council before the war so there was no reason she wouldn’t know why those three would try to cause her harm.

Not after what her father did

Everyone in Lamora knew. But as Ragnar continued to watch her from across the table, he noticed a strange look on her face that made his gut twist. freeweɓnovel.cøm

The look on her face was confusion.