Free Web NovelChapter 429: Chapter 429
Mirelle moved through the quiet corridors with measured steps, careful to keep the tray steady in her hands as she made her way toward Circe’s bedchambers. The halls were quiet, broken only by the faint echo of her footsteps against the polished floors. Sunlight filtered weakly through the tall windows, casting long, pale streaks across the walls as she passed.
Ever since Circe had returned home with Rowen, Mirelle had harbored a growing suspicion that the unthinkable had already happened, despite everything she had secretly done to prevent it. The very thought gnawed at her but she forced herself to set it aside. It hardly mattered now. What was done could not be undone.
Still, Mirelle reassured herself with a steely resolve. Everything would soon be set to rights. There was no better day than this to execute her plan, especially with the prince away on official duties. The absence of Ragnar created an opportunity too perfect to ignore, one she had no intention of wasting.
Reaching Circe’s door, Mirelle came to a halt. She adjusted her grip on the tray, ensuring everything on it remained in place before lifting her hand to knock softly.
A moment later, Circe’s voice drifted from within, granting permission to enter.
Mirelle pushed the door open and stepped inside, clutching the tray with care to prevent anything from spilling. Nieah had been right, Circe was already awake. She found her lying on the bed, her cheek pressed into the pillow, her gaze distant and unfocused as though she were lost in thought. She looked unwell and fatigued, and Mirelle noticed it at once.
"Good morning, Your Highness," Mirelle greeted politely as she crossed the room. She set the tray down on the round table at the far side, the very one where Ragnar and Circe sometimes shared their meals together.
Circe did not respond. She did not so much as stir, nor did her expression change. It was as though the greeting had never reached her ears at all.
Mirelle’s brows furrowed slightly.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" she asked, turning toward her with feigned concern. "I could call Mistress Nieah if you aren’t feeling well."
"I’m fine. I just have a headache," Circe replied at last. It wasn’t exactly the truth. After leaving her mother’s chambers earlier, a wave of nausea had struck her so suddenly and violently that she had nearly doubled over. The sensation had been overwhelming to say the least. She had been forced to steady herself against the wall as she fought to remain upright.
Even then, the feeling had refused to pass.
Step by step, she had made her way back to her chambers, her movements slow and slightly off-kilter, her breaths shallow as she struggled against the persistent sickness. By the time she reached her room, her strength had nearly abandoned her. She had barely managed to reach the bed before sinking onto it and she hadn’t moved from that spot since.
Circe had no desire to explain any of this to Mirelle, and she was relieved when the woman did not press further.
"I brought you tea," Mirelle said instead, choosing her words carefully. She was mindful to say brought rather than made, knowing it would increase the likelihood that Circe would drink it if she believed Nieah had prepared it.
"Bring it to me, please," Circe murmured, slowly pushing herself upright against the pillows.
Mirelle obeyed at once. She lifted the tray and carried it over, placing it gently on the bedside table before pouring the steaming tea into a cup. Almost immediately, the aroma rose between them, rich and herbal, but beneath it lingered a sharp, distinctly minty scent that seemed almost out of place.
Steam curled softly from the surface as Mirelle extended the cup toward her. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
Circe accepted it without much thought, blowing lightly across the surface before taking a cautious sip.
Her reaction was instantaneous. Circe’s face twisted in clear disgust, her nose scrunching as the taste hit her tongue.
Mirelle’s expression shifted just as quickly, her features softening into something that resembled disappointment. She lowered her gaze, carefully crafting the image of someone chastened and embarrassed. Beneath that carefully constructed façade, however, her attention remained sharp, silently observing every flicker of Circe’s reaction.
Circe handed the cup back almost immediately, her face still etched with distaste.
For a brief moment, it looked as though she might spit the tea out entirely but Mirelle knew better. Royal etiquette that said it was distasteful to spit out food or drink in front of others had been drilled too deeply into her. Circe would never allow herself such an indiscretion in the presence of another, no matter how much she might wish to.
And so she swallowed. Even though it had felt like an impossible feat.
Seeing her discomfort, Mirelle moved quickly. She set the cup aside and poured a cup of water, offering it to her.
Circe took it and drank, hoping to wash away the lingering taste. But it barely helped. The bitterness clung stubbornly to her tongue, refusing to fade.
Mirelle watched her closely. She had only been a small sip of the tea but it was enough. Still, a part of her wished Circe had finished the cup entirely. It would have been more reassuring.
"I told Nieah to make my tea from now on," Circe said once she had finished the water, her voice edged with irritation. The unpleasant taste still lingered. It had been a long time since she had last endured Mirelle’s dreadful attempts at making tea. Even before she and Ragnar had spent that week at his cottage, she had avoided it whenever possible. Experiencing it again now so unexpectedly was deeply jarring.
Mirelle forced her voice to waver, her lips trembling slightly as though she were struggling to hold back tears.
"Mistress Nieah was quite busy this morning," she explained softly. "I thought I would help her with this one thing, since it was originally part of my duties." She hesitated, lowering her gaze further before adding in a quieter tone, "I thought I had improved at making it." freewebnσvel.cøm
"It’s quite obvious that you haven’t," Circe snapped. She wasn’t like this. She didn’t make a habit of being rude to the staff, they were only doing their best, after all, but she had already been on edge after meeting with her mother. Coupled with the random bouts of dizziness and nausea she had been experiencing over the last few days, she could feel the tight leash she kept on her temper slowly beginning to fray.
