Free Web NovelChapter 273: Chapter 273
Ragnar sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Circe turned toward him at once, her smile unwavering. Before he could say anything, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
When she pulled back, her eyes searched his face.
"It’s perfect," she said. "Truly. I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time."
Ragnar held her gaze.
"It’s always a pleasure to put a smile on your face," he said quietly. freewёbnoνel.com
She gestured toward the valley. "How did you even find this place?"
"I came here once, years ago," he replied. "I remembered it being calm and peaceful."
"It is," she said. Then, teasingly, "You could have told me where we were going."
"And ruin the surprise?" he countered.
At one point, she leaned back against him, her shoulder tucked beneath his arm as they both looked out at the view. She sighed softly, a sound of pure contentment.
Circe thought of nothing but the sight before her and the steady presence at her side. Wrapped in warmth, held in arms of the man she had come to admire, she felt a deep, unshakable joy settle in her chest.
Ragnar glanced down at Circe whose gaze was fixed on the horizon. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that bringing her here—seeing that smile, feeling her relax against him—was worth more than any victory or ambition he had ever chased.
The basket proved as thoughtfully prepared as everything else Ragnar had arranged. Circe moved to kneel beside it, her earlier excitement settling into something warmer and more relaxed as she helped unpack its contents.
There was freshly baked bread wrapped in linen, wedges of soft cheese, smoked meats, apples, and a small flask that still radiated a gentle heat when Ragnar uncorked it. Steam curled briefly into the cold air, carrying the scent of spiced wine.
Circe accepted the cup he offered her, cradling it between her gloved hands before taking a careful sip. The warmth spread quickly, chasing away the last of the chill lingering in her fingers.
"This is perfect," she said again, as if the word still wasn’t enough.
Ragnar smiled faintly and reached for a pastry, breaking it in half before handing one piece to her. They ate slowly, sharing food with an ease that felt almost startling in its simplicity. There were no guards hovering nearby, no courtly obligations demanding attention, only the low murmur of the river below and the steady sweep of wind across the fields.
She tasted everything with care, as though committing the moment to memory—the sweetness of the fruit, the richness of the pastries, the comforting warmth that unfurled in her chest when she took a sip of the drink.
Ragnar watched her as he ate, noting how her shoulders remained relaxed, how the tension he so often sensed in her had eased.
When they had both eaten their fill and the basket was noticeably lighter, Circe shifted closer to him. She adjusted the blanket, then slowly lowered herself onto her side before rolling onto her back. With a small, wordless smile, she rested her head on Ragnar’s lap, arranging herself as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Ragnar’s hand settled gently against her shoulder. She gazed up at the sky, where broad, pale clouds drifted lazily overhead, their edges soft against the winter sky.
"Look at them," she murmured. "They barely seem to move."
He followed her gaze, then looked back down at her face, her expression calm and open. Reaching into the basket once more, he retrieved a bunch of grapes. He plucked one free and brought it to her lips.
Circe parted them without hesitation.
She bit down, the skin giving way beneath her teeth, sweetness flooding her mouth.
She smiled faintly, eyes never leaving the sky. Ragnar ate the next grape himself, then offered her another, repeating the quiet routine until the stem lay bare between his fingers.
When the last grape was gone, Circe exhaled contentedly.
"We should do things like this often," she said, her voice nearly lost to the wind.
She paused, then hurried on, turning her head just enough to look at him. "I don’t mean because there’s anything wrong with the estate. I just... I want to see more. If this place is meant to be my new home, I want to know it. All of it."
The last words were softer, uncertain. Her gaze drifted back to the clouds, and Ragnar felt the shift in her beneath his hand. Since arriving in Lamora, her thoughts had always seemed fixed on escape, on what lay beyond its borders.
He knew that once, leaving had been her only plan. Now, she lay against him, speaking of staying.
With everything that had happened between her and Ragnar, how close they had grown, how quietly their relationship had begun to take root, Circe’s priorities had shifted. For the first time in months, she did not feel the familiar, burning urge to flee Lamora, and it was solely because of him. Leaving Lamora would mean leaving Ragnar as well, and she was not ready for that.
Not yet. And with the feelings stirring in her chest whenever she so much as looked at him or even thought of him, she knew it would be a long time before she ever was.
He hummed thoughtfully.
"I would like that as well," he said at last. "I want to show you more than just Amris. There are places across the kingdom you haven’t seen, lakes, forests, cities older than the palace itself."
She smiled at that, though the uncertainty lingered.
After a moment, he spoke again. "Tell me something you’ve always wanted to do."
"Travel," Circe answered without hesitation. "I’ve wanted to since I was little. I always had this restlessness inside me, but it never led anywhere." She paused. "I was very restricted as a child. When you brought me here from Westeria... that was the longest journey I’d ever been allowed to take." She let out a quiet breath. "I’d like to change that someday."
