Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 308: Chapter 308

"I have no doubt that you would make a fine warrior, but it is not something you should pursue simply because of external expectations or because you were born a second son." Ragnar said gently. He studied Rowen carefully as he continued. "The life of a soldier is a hard and dangerous one. It demands more than strength. It takes endurance, discipline, and sacrifice. It can be painfully lonely as well. Is that truly the life you want for yourself?"

"I think so," Rowen replied, filled with conviction. "It is an honor to fight for one’s country." frёewebηovel.cѳm

There was no doubt in his words, even though there was very little of that country left to fight for. The Westeria Rowen had grown up in no longer existed, not in the way he remembered it. And it was thanks to the efforts of Ragnar’s troops during the war.

Ragnar smiled down at the boy, something warm glinting in his eyes. There was a hint of pride there as well. "Indeed it is," he agreed. "One of the greatest honors a man can have."

His face softened as a thought struck him without warning. Had Luria lived, they might have had a child by now, one as old as Rowen, perhaps even a little older. The notion settled heavily in his heart, tinged with both sorrow and fondness.

"There is another reason I came to speak with you today," Ragnar continued after a moment, stepping a little closer. "I want to employ tutors to help further your studies. You have not done much schooling since I brought you here. I will have to discuss it with your sister but I wanted to know how you felt about it first."

Rowen looked taken aback. "I— I already train with Kostia every day," he stammered, his confidence faltering for the first time since the conversation began.

" You need an education regardless," Ragnar replied calmly. "There will come a day when your body can no longer withstand the strain of battle. When that day comes, you will retire and take charge of a household of your own. You will be expected to manage lands, finances, and people. To do that well, you will need more than a sword. You will need knowledge."

He paused, ensuring the boy was listening. "Knowledge gives you choices, Rowen, especially if, one day, you find yourself wanting something different."

Rowen could only stare at him, wide-eyed. His lips parted as if to speak, then pressed together again. Words failed him entirely.

He had grown up watching the royal guards patrol the grounds of the Westerian castle, their armor gleaming, their presence commanding. He had idolized them from a young age, so much so that he could hardly imagine himself becoming anything else.

In some quiet, unspoken way, it had also been means of escape. It had not mattered that his father despised him simply for existing. It had not mattered, because one day, he believed, he would leave the castle behind and join the army. A place where he could belong, where his worth would be measured by strength and loyalty, and not be constantly reminded that his mother would still be alive if she hadn’t given birth to him.

That dream had sustained him for years. At such a young age, it had been the only future he allowed himself to hope for.

The idea that there might be other options had never even crossed his mind.

"Why?" Rowen asked finally. It was the only question that mattered. "Why are you doing this?"

He lifted his gaze to Ragnar, searching his face. Aside from being Circe’s brother, Rowen had no connection to him. No reason to warrant this level of care.

"Because it will benefit you in the long run," Ragnar answered simply. "You live under my roof so you are a member of my household. I believe that should be reason enough."

It clearly wasn’t, at least, not to Rowen. He studied Ragnar for a long moment, his gaze sharp and assessing, as though weighing the truth of his words. "Circe already cares deeply about you," he said. "She said it herself. You don’t need to do all this just to win her favor." freёwebnovel.com

Rowen was astute, and Ragnar found himself liking the boy even more for it. A great warrior required not only a strong arm, but a keen mind and Rowen already possessed the latter.

"When you love someone," Ragnar said, his voice softer now, "you find joy in doing things that make them happy. You don’t keep score. You don’t look for rewards. You simply want to see them smile."

Rowen’s posture relaxed, some of the guarded tension easing from his shoulders. "So you love her?" he asked, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

Ragnar didn’t even have to think before responding. He didn’t need to when he already knew the answer. "Yes," he said. "With all my heart."

***

Circe sat before the vanity mirror, a comb clutched in her fingers as she worked carefully through the tangles at the ends of her hair. She intended to braid it as she got ready for bed after a long and exhausting day.

Behind her, Ragnar lay sprawled across the bed, naked from the waist up. The lamp light traced the lines of his broad chest and strong arms as he watched her.

His gaze lingered on her like a gentle touch, heated yet tender and Circe basked in the attention. She liked the way he looked at her, as though nothing else in the world could command his focus. As though she alone mattered.

Obsessed.

Circe realized, not for the first time, that she liked that far too much.

"You’ve been quiet," Ragnar said at last. He lay back with his forearms tucked behind his head, entirely at ease. "What’s on your mind?"

He cut a striking figure, and just the sight of him like that made her want to crawl back into bed and snuggle against his firm body. There was something about the way he carried himself, in a way that was relaxed yet commanding, that never failed to draw her in.