Free Web NovelChapter 360: Chapter 360
For a second, she appeared almost surprised by the question. Then her lips parted.
"I heard it somewhere in passing," she explained with a small smile. "And when I woke up, it was all I could think about."
It was only half the truth. The song had been the same one the woman in her dream had sung to a fussy baby, gently rocking him as she tried to soothe his cries. Three days had passed since that strange dream, yet its details lingered with unsettling clarity. Details like the warmth of the small bedroom, the soft cadence of the lullaby, and the overwhelming sense that she had been witnessing something deeply personal.
The only reason she hadn’t told Ragnar about it yet was because she hadn’t made sense of it herself.
She wanted to ask how he knew the melody she had been humming moments ago, but in the end, she didn’t have to.
"It has been so long," Ragnar said quietly. "I didn’t think I would ever hear that song again." There was a wistful note in his voice, something much softer than she was accustomed to hearing from him. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
"Ms Faye, the woman who took me in, used to sing it to me when I was little," he continued. "According to her, my mother sang it to calm me when I was a baby. After my mother left me behind... Ms Faye simply carried on the habit."
Circe felt her smile vanish. To Ragnar, the change in her expression might have seemed like sympathy at the mention of his abandonment. But only Circe knew the truth. Her mind was racing, rapidly connecting pieces she hadn’t realized were meant to fit together.
The woman and the baby in her dream...
Was it possible that she had seen Ragnar and his mother from years ago?
But how? Why? ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
The questions tangled together, impossible to unravel. No matter how hard she searched for reason, she found none, only confusion that deepened the more she thought about it.
Sensing the shift in her mood, Ragnar changed the subject, steering their conversation toward lighter things in an effort to coax back the smile that had briefly touched her lips. On the surface, it worked. He soon had her engaged in a pleasant, slightly teasing exchange. Yet even as she responded, even as she allowed herself to be drawn along by his voice, her thoughts refused to let go of the discovery she had unearthed.
"We are almost there," he said hours later.
Circe straightened immediately, the sudden movement drawing a quiet chuckle from him.
They had been away from home for a day and a half now, and at that moment there was nothing she wanted more than to curl up on the nearest bed and sleep for a week.
"And are you ready to tell me where exactly ’there’ is?" she asked, lifting a single, unimpressed brow.
"I don’t see why I should," he replied with an infuriating smirk. "My love, if I told you, it would no longer be considered a surprise, would it?"
He was as smug and self-assured as ever.
And how he loved surprising her.
It was the sweetest thing, watching anticipation ripple through her, the way she would shiver ever so slightly, the way her eyes would widen before lighting up when he finally revealed what he had planned. Then came the smile. That dazzling, unguarded smile he could never seem to get enough of. It was an addiction, one he relished. That was why he was doing this now. To see that smile again.
Two days earlier, Ragnar had found her in the library, where she had been absorbed in old texts on Lamorian history. Since allowing herself to consider staying and making the kingdom her new home, she had developed an unexpected fascination with its past. She devoured accounts of its founding, the past wars it had fought, and the tangled web of politics that had shaped it into what it was today. Though she still firmly believed Lamora had suffered through a long line of abhorrent rulers dating all the way back to its first king, Marzen.
Ragnar had simply sidled up beside her, said nothing at first, then slid the book from her lap. When she looked up, ready to protest, she found him already watching her, that familiar mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
He had asked if she wanted to come away with him for a few days and she had practically leapt at the chance, despite the fact that he refused to say where they were going, a fact Ragnar found endlessly amusing. He warned her the journey would be long, but Circe hadn’t minded in the slightest.
All she knew was that they were headed toward the western region of the kingdom, a part she had never visited and had longed to see when the opportunity first presented itself.
It said much about the amount of trust she placed in him that she had willingly followed on a journey without even knowing their destination. It was an unusual thing to do, especially for someone as naturally wary and untrusting as she tended to be. Yet she had agreed without protest, allowing herself to be led into the unknown.
Now her eyes were narrowed at him in open suspicion, but it had little effect on him in general. If anything, it only seemed to amuse him. The corners of his mouth twitched, as though he found her sudden suspicion more entertaining than anything.
At last, a structure came into view at the far end of what had felt like an endless road. A stone cottage stood alone in the middle of a vast, snow-covered landscape. The roof and the surrounding ground were blanketed in a thick, undisturbed layer of snow. A bright red door stood out sharply against the pale surroundings, a bold splash of color in an otherwise muted landscape. In front of the house sat a low stone wall with a simple wooden gate. Tall trees and dark evergreens encircled the clearing, their branches heavy with frost.
