Free Web NovelChapter 43: Chapter 43
Circe trailed behind a cluster of nobles as they filed out of the grand dining hall, their laughter and idle chatter a distant buzz in her ears. The evening had come to an end, but her unease was only just beginning. Every step she took towards her bedroom felt heavier than the last. The thought of returning to that room, knowing Ragnar might be there right now, sent a tight knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach.
She didn’t want to see him. Not yet. Not with everything she just learned hanging over her like a stormcloud. Yet she had nowhere else to go. The castle was vast but she wasn’t safe in any of its many corners, especially not tonight when even the empty corridors felt ominous. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
She needed to know the truth. She needed answers.
Had Ragnar truly murdered his wife or was this simply another one of the queen’s cruel manipulations? Her schemes were usually laced with just enough truth to make lies harder to spot. Circe didn’t know what to believe anymore. But she knew she couldn’t hide forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face him.
By the time she reached the door to the bedroom, her hands were already sweating. She hesitated, her fingers hovering right above the doorknob. A part of her wanted to turn around and walk away. But another part of her, this one more stronger and steadier than the first, knew that walking away wouldn’t solve anything. If Ragnar was inside, if the things the queen said were true, then Circe needed to hear it from him. She always knew when she was being lied to. She needed to look him in the eyes and find the truth for herself.
She drew in a shaky breath and pushed the door open.
She found Ragnar slouched in the high-backed armchair, his head tilted back and one arm draped over his face, shielding his eyes from view. He looked miserable.
Circe would not feel sorry for him, not when there was a chance that he murdered his wife in cold-blood.
She shut the door behind her and stepped further into the room. She halted when only a few feet of space separated them.
" I have questions and you are going to answer them." She said, going straight to the point.
" I don’t owe you anything." His voice was gruff and hoarse like he hadn’t used it in days.
" That’s where you’re wrong. Because you do owe me something. You owe me a lot of things, but tonight, you’re going to give me the truth." Circe said. Her words were fueled with righteous indignation.
Ragnar lowered the arm covering his eyes and looked directly at her. She stood stiffly, her posture tense like someone bracing for a blow or preparing to fight back.
" And if I don’t?" He asked.
Circe looked down at her hands. " Then prepare to have another one of your wife’s deaths on your conscience." She looked back up at him. " Did you know you’re the reason Prince Hairan and the other nobles have started placing bets on how long I’ll last in Lamora? Thanks to how quickly your first marriage ended, they see me as easy prey. Being your wife has painted a target on my back, and one day, someone will hit the mark and succeed."
A long moment passed and Ragnar refused to speak. Despite remaining silent, Circe could see that her words affected him.
" The truth, Ragnar." Persistence was by far both the worst and best trait she possessed.
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" Yes. I was imprisoned for Luria’s murder. It was my knife in her chest that night and when the guards found me hovering over her body, they arrested me without thought. So the queen was telling the truth." Everyone in Lamora already knew this but the words weighed heavily on his chest and still tasted bitter as he spoke them out loud. " No. I didn’t murder my wife."
The fact that Luria’s killer was never found only worsened the situation, casting even more suspicion on him.
Ten years had gone by but that night remained etched into his memory with brutal clarity. He could still see Luria in that maroon dress, the way the deep red color blended with the darker crimson of her blood as it soaked the fabric. The way her chest had risen and fallen in uneven, ragged breaths haunted him. He remembered the weight of her body in his arms.
Even now, he couldn’t forget the stench of the damp prison cell where they’d thrown him afterward. It had been suffocating, coating the back of his throat and settling into his lungs like smoke. The cold stone walls had oozed moisture, and every breath he took felt like inhaling decay. He’d sat in the dark with his hands still stained red, his mind replaying the scene over and over again, trying to find something he missed, something he could have done differently. But there had been nothing. Just silence. Just loss.
Luria’s father visited his cell two days after the incident. Ragnar and Falein Tomar had never fully agreed on much, often clashing over their differences. Yet that morning, when the older man appeared at the cell door, Ragnar sank to his knees once more, unable to hold himself upright beneath the weight of it all.
" I didn’t— I couldn’t— I loved her. I would never hurt her." The words had poured out in such a rush, they were hard to understand.
" I know." Was all Lord Tomar had said then. He was the only reason Ragnar wasn’t still trapped in a cell for a crime he didn’t commit.
" I believe you." Circe said. She looked at him with something that resembled pity.
She was the last person Ragnar expected to say those words to him. Not a lot of people had believed him when it happened and even now there were a lot of people who still believed he was responsible for Luria’s murder.
Circe barely knew him. She watched him destroy her home and family and definitely had a horrible impression of him. Yet she was so easily able to look at him and see the truth in his words when people he had known for years tried to condemn him on the spot.
He didn’t hope for her to believe him, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind but it still threatened to knock him down regardless.
