Free Web NovelChapter 182: Chapter 182
She always did her absolute best to maintain an easy, steady relationship with Rowen. She was his sister and his guardian, not a replacement for their mother.
She would never want to be that but she also understood that guiding him meant choosing her moments. Most days, she let him be the boisterous, impatient boy he was. Other times, like today, she had to be firmer, more assertive, even when she hated the heaviness it brought to his small face.
Her shoulder throbbed with every step as they left the woods and crossed the manicured grounds leading back to the manor. Dry leaves clung stubbornly to her hair, and despite how carefully she tried to
hide her winces, Rowen caught each one.
He kept glancing up at her, his brows pulled together, worry practically radiating off him. freёweɓnovel.com
"I’m sorry," he blurted suddenly, voice cracking like thin glass. "I didn’t mean for you to get injured."
"You don’t have to worry," she replied gently. "I’m perfectly fine."
But her reassurance did little to quell his worry. He still looked at her as though she were a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter because of him.
He helped her pluck the twigs and leaves from her hair when he realized she couldn’t lift her arms without wincing. Once the debris was cleared, he smoothed down her rumpled hair with a tentative hand, his touch feather-light. It helped to make her look less like she had been rolling on the forest floor. The stains on her dress, however, could not be helped.
Relief washed through her when they stepped into the foyer and found it mostly empty. With no maids hovering about, she was spared their startled looks and barrage of concerned questions. She didn’t have the strength to soothe anyone else right now. All she wanted was to change out of her soiled dress and perhaps wash the dirt from her skin.
She turned to Rowen. "Can you ask one of the maids to draw me a bath?"
He nodded vigorously, eager to help her in any way, no matter how small.
Circe watched him hurry off down the hall.
Left alone, Circe made her way toward her room. Pain shot sharply through her arm when she reached for the door handle, forcing her to grit her teeth as she pushed it open.
Once she slipped inside and the door swung shut behind her, she crossed the room in a few quick steps until she stood before the full-length mirror propped elegantly against the wall.
Working through the pain, she loosened the simple laces of her day dress. It took longer than it should have, her fingers trembling slightly, her shoulder throbbing with each tug but she managed to get it loose. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in her shift and undergarments. She pulled the fabric down enough to bare her shoulder.
The bruise was already blooming across her pale skin, an angry splash of red with darker coloring beneath. She stared at it for a long moment, before letting out a heavy sigh.
***
A guard hurried down the corridor toward Ragnar’s study, his boots striking the polished floors in fast, controlled steps. Clutched in his hand was an envelope embossed with gold filigree. He had been given explicit instructions to deliver it directly to the prince.
He paused before the study door, noting how quiet it was inside. With a steadying breath, he raised his fist and knocked, three firm raps on the heavy wood.
The door opened moments later, Casilo stood in front of him, filling the doorway with his tall frame. The guard bowed his head respectfully and extended the envelope. freёwebnoѵel.com
"This just came in for His Highness," the guard reported. "Delivered by one of Lady Elara’s footmen minutes ago."
Casilo accepted it with a curt nod and dismissed the guard before closing the door behind him. Turning to Ragnar, he held out the envelope.
"Lady Elara was present at Lady Mina’s luncheon," Casilo said. "It’s probably an invitation to another social event."
Ragnar took the envelope, slit it open, and scanned the contents. As Casilo predicted, it was an invitation to Lady Elara’s garden party. He almost set it aside without a second thought. He usually had little patience for such events but something made him pause.
Elara was one of Mina’s closest friends, known for her kind disposition. More importantly, she was not among the queen’s supporters. If Circe attended, she would be surrounded by people who posed no threat, who might even welcome her warmly.
This could be good for her, he thought. She deserved something light, and pleasant, something that might coax her out of the dark fog she had been trapped in since learning the truth.
His decision made, Ragnar rose from behind his desk. He tucked the invitation into his hand and strode toward the door, passing Casilo with purposeful steps.
Earlier, he had asked Rowen to check on Circe, hoping the boy’s presence might tug her out of the pit of despair she had fallen into over the past two days. She had barely left the room—a strange and unsettling shift in someone who usually loved wandering the gardens, her hair unbound and whipping freely behind her as she rode.
Knowing all this about her, Circe’s recent behavior had left him deeply concerned. The only solution he could think of was to enlist her brother in his ploy. She might ignore him, but she never dismissed anything involving Rowen. And the plan had worked because after a short while, he had seen the boy tugging her outside by the arm, a reluctant smile finally softening her features.
That had been hours ago. By now, they should have returned indoors.
He reached their chamber door with the intention of giving her the invitation and, more importantly, giving her a choice. If she wanted to attend, he would not stop her. He only hoped she would want to.
But when Ragnar pushed open the bedroom door, he stopped short at the sight before him. Circe stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed only in her shift, the garment pushed down to bare her shoulders and the upper curves of her breasts. He blinked once, rooted to the spot.
