Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 38: Chapter 38

There was a knock on her bedroom door later that same day. Circe watched on quietly from the bed as Ragnar stood up from the armchair and walked towards the door. He refused to return to the bed after commandeering her chair for himself, acting as though trading the bed for the chair had been one of his greatest accomplishments, smirking at her as he lounged back on the armrest.

Circe couldn’t find anything to complain about, even though she desperately wanted to. Despite how comfortable the chair appeared to be, spending night after night on it had left her back and neck sore and laying flat on her back on the bed gave her body a welcomed reprieve from the aches.

Ragnar probably had no clue what he was getting himself into. Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he had watched her stretch her back and rub at her sore neck one too many times and decided she needed the bed more.

When Ragnar opened the door, he did so just wide enough that Circe could see who stood at the other side of the threshold without revealing herself. Their visitor was a young woman, a servant from the way she was dressed. She was short and petite and Ragnar towered over her.

Circe watched the woman’s eyes grow incredibly wide before she fell back a step.

" I...I," the woman stammered.

Ragnar tilted his head.

" I... they sent me here. I mean her majesty requests your presence for dinner in the dining hall. She expects you to come along with the Westerian princess." She clammed her mouth shut when she was done speaking.

Circe couldn’t tell if the woman was in awe of Ragnar or absolutely terrified. Her reaction could be justified either way.

" We’ll be honored to dine with her majesty." Ragnar responded, barely hiding the sarcasm from his tone. The woman didn’t seem to notice though as she was too busy nodding her head frantically.

Ragnar was about to swing the door shut when he paused suddenly. " Find my wife a dress appropriate for the occasion."

When he shut the door, he took a deep breath before turning to face Circe, who was already scowling at him.

" Looks like we will be joining the queen for dinner." Ragnar said. Her scowl didn’t faze him in the slightest. He seemed almost immune to its effects.

" I don’t remember agreeing to anything." Circe argued, folding her arms over her chest. She knew she was intentionally being difficult but she didn’t care.

" Then by all means, refuse the invitation. I’d be more than happy to escort you to the queen’s chambers so you can say it to her face."

Circe huffed, turning away from him to stare at the blank wall. They couldn’t deny the queen’s request. Ragnar was right of course but she would rather die than admit it out loud.

It didn’t take long for the woman to return and in her hands was a neatly folded gown.

Ragnar took the dress from her hands and held it up, inspecting both the front and back of it with a careful eye. The gown was made from deep blue fabric with a front panel of olive green and an ivory overskirt. It had a fitted bodice with a lace-up front and patterned trim along the edges. The sleeves were long and wide, with a flared design and matching patterned lining, gathered at the elbows for added shape.

" This will have to do." Ragnar said. He laid the dress down at the foot of the bed, just a few inches away from where she sat.

Her scowl was still yet to lessen in its intensity but now there was a bit of confusion threaded into it.

" What was all that for?" She asked, referring to how he just thoroughly examined the dress. freёwebnovel.com

" I can’t just stand by and let them dress my wife up in servants’ attire again."

Ragnar and that damned word. Wife.

Circe felt her cheeks flush. She hated when he called her that. What unsettled her most was that he never said it like she was a possession or a prisoner. It always sounded like he saw her as an equal, someone he genuinely respected. She couldn’t understand why he did it and it unsettled her. Was it a manipulation tactic? A ploy of some kind? Whatever it was, she wanted him to stop. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Ragnar stepped out of the bedroom to give her privacy, waiting quietly in the hallway until she was done. When she finally emerged, he didn’t comment on the fit of the dress but his gaze lingered a bit longer than they should have.

He cleared his throat. " Follow me."

To say they walked side by side to the dining hall would have been a gross exaggeration. While Ragnar moved with his usual steady stride, Circe kept to the opposite side of the corridor, putting as much space between them as the narrow hallway would allow.

Circe faltered when they reached the dining hall. A crystal chandelier hung overhead from the wooden ceiling beams. A long wooden table sat at the very center of the space, wide enough to sit twelve people on each side. Its surface was covered with plates of food, glassware, and candles. High-backed wooden chairs with detailed carvings surrounded the table. Most of those chairs were currently occupied by finely dressed men and women, their gazes turning to watch Circe’s and Ragnar’s approach.

The queen sat at one end of the table, while the other was left empty.

They reached the table just as Circe moved to claim an empty seat, but Ragnar beat her to it, pulling the chair out for her before she could touch it. She looked back, intending to glare at him but his focus wasn’t even on her anymore. It was on the queen.

" It’s a pleasure to have you both join us here tonight." The queen said with a beatific smile.

Ragnar felt as rigid as stone behind her.

" Believe me, your majesty. The pleasure is ours."