Free Web NovelChapter 441: Chapter 441
"Regardless of whether you are being sincere or not hardly matters now, Ms. Silhara not after I have already caught you in a lie," Circe said. With that, she chose to lay out the most pressing concern regarding the woman’s employment. "His Highness has not been too fond of you since your very first meeting, and even if I am inclined to side with him in this, I am still open to changing my mind. So tell me, why should I trust you?"
It was a test, one carefully constructed and Circe found herself feeling eager to hear Morana’s reply. The woman’s answer might very well be a deciding factor.
If Morana felt any discomfort from the persistent interrogation she had been subjected to since her arrival, she did not show it. There was something almost regal about her presence, something that commanded attention and it made looking away from her an unexpectedly difficult task.
"I believe you can trust my intentions for the same reason you were able to tell so easily when I was lying," Morana replied calmly. "Only a fool would knowingly go against death herself, and I suspect that had your former lady’s maid known who she was wronging, she might have reconsidered her choices."
Her words settled heavily in the space between them, yet she spoke them as though she had not just exposed one of Circe’s most closely guarded secrets.
Circe bristled, her entire body going completely still. For a brief moment, even the air in her lungs seemed to turn to ice. Morana’s gaze remained fixed on hers but it wasn’t in challenge.
Then, unbidden, the words of the head priestess at the Temple of Eloen surfaced in her mind. It would be harder to hide what she truly was the stronger she became. Perhaps not to ordinary humans but to other beings, demons, fae... perhaps even vampires.
Though Morana’s statement had come as a shock, Circe gathered herself just as quickly. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, light and airy, though it only partially dispelled the tension that had descended upon the room like a shroud.
"I doubt that," Circe said, a trace of amusement lingering in her voice. "Foolish people will always do foolish things, regardless of whether they know what I am. That is what separates them from the wise."
"You seem very wise, Ms. Silhara," she added, her tone deceptively gentle. "I would hate for you to prove me wrong." freewebnovёl.ƈom
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The physician returned to the manor a few days later to examine her progress and was pleasantly surprised by the speed of her recovery. The color had returned to her cheeks, and the weakness that had once confined her to her bed had lessened considerably.
He had expected her to remain ill for several more weeks, given the potency of the toxin she had ingested and the notoriously slow rate at which humans healed from such afflictions.
He did not know that her recovery was owed to something far beyond human resilience.
Though Circe was still far from being fully recovered, the physician saw no reason for her to stay bedridden any longer. He advised that she begin taking short walks around the estate each day, believing that fresh air and gentle movement would aid in restoring her strength.
When she was finally able to leave her chambers after so many days shut away from the outside world, she caught sight of Ragnar clutching a folded piece of paper.
His expression was tense, jaw set in a way that immediately drew her focus. The moment he noticed her attention on him, he hastily tucked the paper away into a drawer, as though concealing something he would rather she did not see.
Circe’s gaze shifted from the now-empty space in his hands to his face. His very unhappy face.
"Is something wrong?" she asked. It was obvious that whatever he had read had troubled him. "Who was that from?" she added, nodding slightly toward the drawer where the note now lay hidden.
Ragnar exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before answering.
"One of my informants," he said. "There have been multiple reports of attacks from fae beasts in the east. At first, it was contained to a small portion farther East, but now the chaos has begun to spread southward."
His tone darkened with each word, frustration bleeding into every syllable.
"People are not safe," he continued. "They are being attacked, killed by creatures they cannot fight. And yet, nothing has been done about it."
Circe listened intently, her expression growing more serious.
There had been years when Lamora went without a single fae beast attack. And then there were years like this, when the attacks came in mass, leaving death and destruction in their wake. In such times, measures were always put in place. Specialized soldiers, trained to hunt and kill these creatures, would be deployed swiftly to contain the threat. freēwebnovel.com
But this time was different.
A significant portion of their forces had already been sent east to fight the rebellion, while another large contingent had been dispatched to Westeria to solidify their hold over the kingdom. What remained was insufficient, stretched too thin to respond effectively to a threat of this scale.
Ragnar had intended to travel to the capital to present the matter before the king, to demand action, to force the court to acknowledge the danger before it spiraled further out of control. But that had been before Circe had fallen ill.
Now, each night, he found himself caught in a relentless cycle of indecision, torn between his duty to the crown and his concern for his wife. He did not want to leave her, not when she was still recovering, not when the memory of how close he had come to losing her remained so painfully fresh.
And yet, he knew what was at stake.
The decision hung heavily on his shoulders, pressing against his thoughts like a burden. And so he lingered in that uncertainty.
He could not move the royal troops without the king’s say-so, despite his title and rank in the army. The queen had seen to that herself, ensuring there was no chance for him to wield that power for his own benefit. It meant he would always have to go through the king if he wanted anything done, and he refused to send out his own men without sufficient backing. To do so would be no different from sending them to their deaths.
Circe could feel the torment he carried within him, knowing his people were suffering from the king’s lack of action.
"Do you have to travel to see the king?" she asked.
She had been with him long enough to understand his habits. Whenever a matter of this magnitude arose, he would make the journey to the capital himself, unwilling to trust something so grave to letters or messengers.
"I might," came his response after a brief pause. "I haven’t decided yet."
