Free Web NovelChapter 259: Chapter 259
"Perhaps, if I leave the knife buried in your flesh for a few more hours, you’ll be more amenable the next time I ask you a question." Ragnar said calmly, sounding unperturbed by what he just did.
Without waiting for a response, he shoved the blade deeper and twisted it sharply.
Jorrit cried out, the sound raw and broken as the pain intensified, tearing through him until it was all he could feel. His breathing became ragged, sweat breaking out across his brow.
Ragnar leaned in close, invading the space that remained between them until Jorrit was forced to lift his head and meet his gaze.
"Since you couldn’t answer my last question," Ragnar continued quietly, "let me ask you an easier one. How many holes do I have to poke into your flesh before you decide to talk?" His lips curved faintly. "I think five is a fair number, don’t you? Though I can always make the number higher, if you prefer."
He straightened slightly, his grip firm on the knife. "You will spill all your little secrets while I make you bleed. And when I’m done with you, I will send your corpse back to your master as a gift." His tone hardened. "It’s what you deserve for targeting my wife."
A maid approached Ragnar hurriedly as he turned the corner on his way to his study. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her.
She stopped a respectful distance away and held out an invitation the moment she was close enough to do so.
"Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly, "this was just delivered."
Ragnar took it from her hand and glanced down at the elegant script adorning the front. With a brief wave of his hand, he dismissed her. She bowed more deeply and retreated the way she had come.
Once she was gone, he slipped the invitation into his pocket and continued on his way.
The card was from Lady Maelis, an invitation to one of her charity balls. She hosted several each year and, without fail, invited him to every single one.
The moment he reached his study, Ragnar pulled open a drawer in his desk and tossed the card inside without a second thought. It landed atop a stack of papers, in a place where Circe wouldn’t check.
He closed the drawer firmly. With the invitation out of sight, Ragnar pinched the bridge of his nose, a dull ache forming behind his eyes. He hated that he was hiding something from her at all. But if he showed Circe the invitation, she would want to attend and he did not trust himself enough to refuse her.
Not when the memory of that ambush still haunted him. The sickening horror of watching a sword sink into her flesh. The way she had crumpled to her knees afterward, fragile and broken.
The fact that she healed faster now did nothing to erase the knowledge that he had nearly lost the woman he loved.
He hated that his instinct in moments like these was to always shield her from the world, to keep her tucked away from anything he perceived as a threat, no matter how small. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Still, he hoped for a day when she could go wherever she pleased without the fear of someone lurking in the shadows, waiting for the chance to hurt her.
***
The sound of music drifted through the grand ballroom, mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter as the charity ball unfolded in full swing. Guests moved about the polished floor, smiling and dancing beneath the glow of crystal chandeliers. Wine flowed freely, glasses refilled more often as the night wore on.
Avarine scanned the ballroom for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, her gaze darting restlessly through the crowd in search of either the prince or the princess. Each attempt ended the same way—with disappointment.
She had arrived at Lady Maelis’s estate nearly two hours ago, and since then her head had been on a constant swivel. Every time the massive double doors opened, she turned expectantly, hoping to catch sight of Circe and Ragnar making their entrance.
Each time, she was left wanting.
More than disappointed, she was annoyed.
She had been informed that the prince and his wife would be attending as special guests since Ragnar made a generous donation to the foundation every year. But now, Avarine felt as though the entire evening had been a waste of her time.
What was even the point of being here?
Without them present, she couldn’t go through with her plan, not tonight at least.
When she turned to her left, she found Mina watching her from a short distance away. Avarine quickly drained the remainder of her wine and placed the empty cup onto the tray of a passing server before Mina approached.
Mina wore a deep red gown, the color bold and striking against her complexion. She moved with effortless confidence, her posture graceful and assured, while Avarine remained rooted in place.
When Mina finally reached her, there was barely any exchange of pleasantries between them at all.
"Is there a reason you keep scanning the guests?" Mina asked coolly. "If you have grown bored with the party, you can always leave. No one is stopping you."
She went straight to the point, as she always did.
Mina had been observing Avarine for a while now from a distance, noticing how her gaze repeatedly swept across the ballroom with restless intent. freēwēbnovel.com
She and Avarine had never quite gotten along, and the fault lay mostly in the fact that Mina had never truly fallen victim to Avarine’s performative kindness, the same polished, delicate façade she wielded to endear herself to countless people.
Mina had always been able to see through it, straight through the carefully curated smiles and gentle words, down to the ugliness that festered beneath all those false layers of innocence. Avarine’s fake niceties often clung to her like an overpowering perfume.
Mina had always seen Avarine for the fraud she was. For someone as unapologetically herself as Mina, being around someone like Avarine, who was the exact opposite, was deeply unsettling.
