Free Web NovelChapter 184: Chapter 184
Ragnar lingered a moment longer than he should have, his hand still wrapped around the door handle as though an invisible leash kept him tightly tethered to the spot, preventing him from taking the steps needed to leave the room.
Circe watched him quietly, noticing how his jaw clenched, the way it looked like he was currently waging a silent war with himself.
He finally blew out a breath, looking less reluctant to leave than he did moments ago.
"Try not to injure yourself any further" he said softly, the words balanced delicately between an order and a plea. He already had so much on his plate, duties that constantly called for his attention. It would only worsen his work load if he had to worry about Circe hurting herself whenever he left her to her own devices.
It wouldn’t matter regardless since his mind was almost always filled with thoughts of her and now the sight of her like this would feature in his baser thoughts for days to come.
Then he stepped out.
The door closed behind him with a muted thud, a gentle but final sound that seemed to pulse through the quiet chamber like the fading tremor of a struck bell.
Circe stood still for a moment as the room’s emptiness pressed in on her. The space somehow felt larger without him. The echo of his presence clung stubbornly to the air.
She swallowed, then shook her head to regain her focus, and turned her eyes toward the mirror once more. Her reflection blinked back at her. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed.
No amount of cold water would wash away the heat that lingered beneath her skin.
No man had ever been capable of having such a profound effect on her. Before she could think too deeply about the notion, soft footsteps padded down the hall. The door opened again a heartbeat later.
The three maids from before slipped back into the room, each one balancing a bucket brimming with water. The water was much warmer this time around, steam floating over the rim of the bucket.
Their gazes stayed dutifully downcast as they crossed the chamber and disappeared into the bathing chamber.
A gentle splash followed, then another as they poured the water into the tub in steady waves.
Moments later, one of the maids returned to the room and dipped into a respectful bow.
"Your bath is ready, Your Highness." She said, as the rest of the maids filled out of the bathing chamber with their now empty buckets in hand.
Circe nodded in thanks.
The maids retreated, closing the door behind them.
She released a long, slow breath.
Gathering the clothes she intended to change into, along with a fresh set of undergarments, and a clean shift—Circe padded into the bathing chamber.
Steam curled in delicate tendrils from the tub, beckoning her forward. She set the bundle of clothing neatly on the small stool by the wall.
With careful fingers, she tugged her loose shift over her head and her bruised shoulder flared in protest, a hot spark of pain that made her hiss between her teeth.
She clutched the linen tightly to prevent them from falling to the floor. She lowered the clothes down when the pain eased slightly.
Slowly, she stepped into the tub, one foot at a time, letting the warm water lap at her ankles, her calves, then her thighs before she finally lowered herself fully in. The ache in her muscles eased at once, tension unwinding from her limbs like loosened knots.
Someone had added lavender and peppermint scented bath oils to the water and the scent drifted lazily around her, softening the last of her lingering stiffness.
She washed her hair, letting the dark strands slip through her fingers. She scrubbed specks of dirt, and the dried remnants of the forest from her skin. When her fingertips brushed the bruise, she winced, her breath catching but the water’s warmth soothed it just enough to bear.
When she finally rose from the bath, droplets clung to her skin and formed shimmering trails down her arms and legs. She wrapped herself in a thick towel and patted her skin dry, then tucked her damp curls behind her ears as she slipped into her undergarments and clean shift.
She reached for her day dress, then paused mid-motion.
She almost forgot about the ointment.
The bruise pulsed insistently, sharper now, like a heartbeat beneath her skin. The bath had soothed the ache momentarily but now it was slowly returning with a vengeance. If she put on the dress now, it would be harder for her to apply the ointment on her shoulder.
So she left the dress draped over her arm and stepped barefoot out of the bathing chamber. The cool floor kissed her damp feet as she crossed the room, the hem of her shift swishing around her legs. A few wet curls clung stubbornly to her neck.
Her shoulder throbbed with each movement, a dull, nagging thump beneath the skin.
Arriving at the dresser, she opened a familiar drawer with her uninjured arm. Inside sat the small jar, sealed tight with a lid. She lifted it carefully, cradling it in her palm like something fragile. fгeewebnovёl.com
Circe twisted the lid open. A bitter, earthy scent drifted out at once, like a mix of dry herbs, and something else that she couldn’t name.
Upon sniffing it again, she realized that it smelled stale. She wrinkled her nose. This salve was utterly ineffective now. It wouldn’t do a thing for the bruising.
Frustration simmered beneath her skin. Her shoulder would bother her all night if she didn’t tend to it and she knew that there was only one thing that had to be done in this situation. But she hated bothering him, especially about something so minor.
She was fiercely independent and preferred handling her problems herself. But pain blurred her stubborn pride, and there was no sense in pretending she could manage without the proper salve.
Ragnar had told her to send for him if she needed anything and she would have to take him up on that offer. fгeewebnovёl.com
She closed the jar with a soft click, her fingers weakening slightly as another throb pulsed through her shoulder.
Circe glanced at the closed door. She would have to ask Ragnar for a new ointment but she couldn’t meet him dressed like this again.
