Free Web NovelChapter 309: Chapter 309
"I’m thinking how good it feels to be back home," she said. The moment the words left her lips, she realized that she had done it again. She had called Ragnar’s manor home and this time, she had done so in front of him.
A flicker of uncertainty stirred in her chest, but it faded almost as quickly as it came. It did feel right. She liked it here. Without her even noticing, the stone walls, and the life she was building within them had begun to feel like the one she was always meant to have. This place had woven itself into her sense of belonging.
Ragnar’s eyes turned molten, a deep bronze glow that held her captive.
"It does," he agreed, his gaze never once leaving her as she gathered her hair and began to weave it into a single braid. "The capital can be overwhelming, especially the first few times you visit."
The trouble lay not with the city itself, but with those who inhabited it. freēwebnovel.com
He waited until she finished braiding her hair before speaking again.
"Come," he said softly. "I want to show you something." He climbed out of bed and approached her.
She regarded him curiously, her head tilting just a little.
"What is it?" she asked, turning on the edge of the bed so she could look up at him properly.
"It’s a surprise," he replied, entirely too pleased with himself. "I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me to find out."
That smugness, so unmistakably male, used to be the trait she despised most about him, especially when it was directed at her. Now, instead of irritation, it made her core tighten and her pulse flutter with an unexpected thrill.
She decided to be difficult just as he reached her, remaining firmly seated.
"I’m only going if you tell me what to expect."
"That’s too bad." Ragnar grinned, and the expression looked utterly inappropriate, almost lascivious given that he was still half naked.
"I’m being serious," she tried to act stern, though the smile tugging at her lips said otherwise. He reached for her hands and effortlessly helped her to her feet.
He pulled a plain shirt over his head before grabbing her hand again, and guiding her out of the room.
"You are so incorrigible," she said as he continued tugging her along the corridor. "I don’t see why you can’t offer me the tiniest hint."
"And you, my love, lack patience," he replied, his voice warm with humor, clearly entertained by her protests.
He never minded it, never found her endless curiosity tiresome. Quite the opposite. He found it endearing. She was a curious creature, and he loved how excitement overtook her so completely that she could no longer contain it.
He laughed quietly when he heard her grumbling under her breath, and he loved that too.
She expected them to veer toward the front entrance, already imagining that whatever surprise awaited her must be outside. But that assumption dissolved when he continued down the hall instead. He guided her to the library, pushing open one of the large double doors with his free hand.
Instantly, confusion crossed her face.
She didn’t understand why he had brought her here. And when they stepped inside, that confusion only deepened.
"I know how much this meant to you," Ragnar said gently. "So when I saw the opportunity to get it, I couldn’t pass it up."
She still didn’t understand, until he guided her around a corner, away from the towering rows of bookshelves.
And there it was.
Mounted on the wall was a portrait of her mother. freēwebnovel.com
It was from many years ago, preserved in such exquisite condition that not a single scratch marred its surface. In the painting, her mother sat upon a settee, cradling a baby girl in her arms, while a small boy, no older than three, stood proudly at her side.
Circe’s chest gave a painful lurch.
Wonder, happiness, and overwhelming gratitude surged through her all at once, rising so fast they stole the breath from her lungs. Her body trembled, not from grief, but from a joy so vast it felt almost unbearable, the kind that wiped her mind clean of thought and made her chest expand until she thought it might burst.
She blinked. Then blinked again. Still, she could hardly believe what she was seeing or that it was real.
But it was. And it was all because of Ragnar.
She had once confessed her greatest fear to him: that one day she would wake up and forget the way her mother looked, that her memory would blur until she could no longer draw her face correctly. And without her ever asking he had gone and made sure that would never happen.
Ragnar stepped up behind her and placed his firm hands on her trembling shoulders, steadying her in a way she hadn’t known she needed.
"Do you like it?" he murmured near her ear, his voice low and careful, as though afraid to break the moment.
Circe nodded, unable to trust her voice.
Then she turned within his hold and wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly as she buried her face against his chest.
"I love it," she said at last, just loud enough for him to hear. Her voice was thick with emotion, so choked that it barely sounded like her own anymore.
"Thank you." She burrowed even deeper into his chest, into the steady warmth of his body. "Thank you so much."
The words felt painfully small compared to the storm of emotion threatening to tear her in two. She had never been skilled at expressing anything that wasn’t anger or defiance, and now her throat tightened around everything she wished she could say. So instead, she clung to him, her arms tightening as if she could pour all of it into that single gesture, hoping he would understand what her words could not convey.
"You do not have to thank me, my love," he murmured softly. His arms went around her instinctively. He pressed his cheek lightly against her hair, breathing her in. "Seeing you happy is the greatest reward I could ever ask for."
