Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 215: Chapter 215

"Why don’t you live in the palace like the rest of your family?" she asked, though she already suspected the answer.

"They don’t exactly like me there," he replied, his tone casual as though it no longer bothered him.

Seeing that he wasn’t pulling away, she pressed on, her curiosity becoming a warm, insistent pulse between them.

"But why not live in the capital? That way, you wouldn’t have to travel so far every time you’re summoned to the palace."

Ragnar smiled faintly. freewebnovёl.ƈom

"Amris is my home," he said simply. "I would likely go mad if I had to live in the capital again."

He had a house in the capital, one he used when duty forced him to remain in the city longer than necessary, but he never stayed more than a week at a time. He always returned to Amris, as though the very air there allowed him to breathe.

Circe’s brows knitted together. She could hear everything he wasn’t saying.

"I’m guessing you had bad experiences in the capital." Her voice held no judgment, only quiet understanding.

"Too many to count." He exhaled slowly. "Some days I wish the king had never found me."

A part of him wondered whether he would have been better off remaining on that small farm where his mother had abandoned him. But then he looked at the woman pressed against his chest, and the thought dissolved. Had he remained there, he never would have met her.

"I’ve heard things about the king’s philandering nature," Circe said carefully. She hesitated, unsure if she was pushing too far. Boundaries mattered to her. She had many of her own and she was always careful not to trample over those of others. "Do you think you have other siblings out there?"

Ragnar scratched absently at the stubble on his chin, contemplating.

"It’s possible," he admitted, "but I doubt the king would ever acknowledge them. He barely acknowledged me. I was the only exception and not because he had any affection for me. He was simply curious about the result of a vampire and demon pairing." He gave a humorless smile. "As far as I know, no other children have ever come from such a pairing."

That was how it began. When Ragnar first stepped into the palace, he had thought it would mark the beginning of a better life. He had imagined discovering the warmth of a family he never knew. But he had been so very wrong.

The king’s interest in him had been a fleeting thing, bright and brief, like a spark that died before it could warm anything. Ragnar soon realized he had been plucked from his normal life only to be dropped into the center of a sinking ship.

He had to fight to stay afloat, clawing for every ounce of recognition his brothers received simply by existing.

"I lived to serve, to be useful. I joined the army as soon as I became of age to stay relevant to a man that never lifted a finger to ease my torment." Always so busy, he never got to indulge in vices like his brothers frequently do. He simply never had the time. "All so it would be harder for them to toss me away."

Words he rarely shared with anyone now spilled from him freely, all because she had asked. He would give her anything, even the parts of himself he kept locked away from the rest of the world.

Circe was silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear her. freēwebnovel.com

"Perhaps we are more alike than I thought."

They remained like that for a while longer, simply holding each other, letting the weight of shared truths settle between them like something sacred.

Eventually, Ragnar pulled away to check on the clothes he had hung over the branch earlier. They were still wet and cold to the touch, but no longer dripping lake water.

He tugged on his breeches, the damp fabric clinging to his skin, while Circe retrieved her dress after he handed her the shift. She slipped it on quickly, though he noticed the way she shivered, her wet shift plastered against her body beneath the dress.

They walked back to the manor together. Ragnar found his gaze drifting to her every few steps, noting how subdued she had become, how her thoughts seemed to fold inward. The soft tremors of cold still shook her occasionally, though she tried to hide them.

By the time they reached their chambers, Ragnar pushed the door open, and they found a steaming bath already prepared for their return in the bathing chamber, the air filled with the smell of scented bath oils.

Ragnar let her bathe first, and only after she was finished did he ask the maids to prepare another bath for him. Circe had already changed into fresh clothes by the time he stepped out of the bathing chambers.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps.

Circe was seated on the same chair he had slept in for weeks, before he finally allowed himself a place beside her in the bed.

Her eyes swept over him from head to toe, lingering for a moment before a soft smile tugged at her lips.

"Do you want me to style your hair?"

His hair was just so dark and soft, she wanted to run her fingers through it, at least once.

He frowned slightly, lifting a hand to the ends of his wet hair before giving her a skeptical look.

"Why? You can barely style your own."

Her mouth fell open in outrage. "Then let me practice on you." She huffed.

Ragnar still didn’t look convinced, or remotely trusted of her motives, but he stepped toward her anyway. He lowered himself onto the floor at her feet, turning so his back faced her. He wore only a new pair of breeches, so when her cool fingertips traced lightly down the warm expanse of his bare back, he felt the sensation keenly.

"Try not to make me look feminine," he said, a teasing note in his voice. "I have a reputation to protect."

Circe clicked her tongue. "I’m styling your hair, not performing sorcery. I could put you in a dress and smear the brightest shade of rouge on your lips, and you still wouldn’t look feminine."