Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 450: Chapter 450

She wasn’t alone in the room. A woman and a baby sat on the floor several paces away. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Circe’s attention fixed on them instantly.

The child’s laughter filled the room, the kind that was loud and infectious. He sat on the floor, his small hands pressing against the ground as he leaned forward, drawn toward the woman before him.

The woman sat just out of his reach, her hands outstretched towards him.

Circe tried to see her face. She narrowed her eyes, focusing, willing the details to become clearer but nothing changed. She could not make out a single feature on the woman’s face. It was as though her face had been erased, leaving only fragments behind.

She could only see the woman’s brown dress, her black hair and when the woman lifted her hand slightly, Circe caught sight of the scar lining the inside of her wrist.

The woman made a soft coaxing sound, her voice gentle as she beckoned the child closer.

"Come here, my little ember." she murmured.

The baby’s laughter bubbled louder.

He reached for the nearest solid surface, small fingers grasping clumsily as he pulled himself upright. His legs trembled beneath him as he stood.

Circe found herself watching more closely now as the baby let go of the surface he had been holding onto and moved to take a step towards his mother.

The first step was hesitant. The second was braver, while the third was more eager.

He wobbled forward, determined, his entire focus fixed on the woman waiting for him.

And then he fell right into his mother

The woman caught him instantly.

Even while standing in a corner, Circe could feel the palpable joy and love between the mother and her baby.

The woman gathered the child into her arms and his laughter returned almost immediately, as though the fall had never happened at all.

Circe did not move, rooted to the spot. This vision felt like a memory but it clearly wasn’t hers.

It carried the same distant, hazy quality as the others visions she had in the past, the same sense of being placed somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, like she was witnessing something she shouldn’t.

And she knew what she was looking at.

Her gaze lingered on the child, now cradled safely in the woman’s arms. She knew it was Ragnar and the woman was his mother.

She remained where she was, silent and unseen while the moment stretched on before her, even as both mother and baby remained oblivious to her presence.

Circe woke to the sensation of her cheek pressed against a firm chest. A strong arm was draped over her, holding her close, and she couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into the embrace as she inhaled the familiar scent of sandalwood and leather. She lingered there for a moment, basking in the comfort and warmth she always felt whenever she was in his arms.

After a while, she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze drifting across her chambers. Everything looked just as she remembered from the night before. The only thing that was different was Ragnar’s thick coat, now draped carelessly over one of the chairs. He must have returned from the capital while she was already asleep and had somehow managed to slip into bed beside her without waking her.

Ragnar was still holding her close. When she finally tilted her head to look at him, she found that he was already awake, his gaze fixed on her as though he had been watching her for some time.

"Good morning." His lips curved into a slow, charming smile, and that expression alone was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Still holding her, he took one of her hands and brought the back of her palm to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss there. "I take it your sleep was pleasant." freewebnøvel.com

"It was," she replied, returning his smile with one of her own, delighted to have him back with her. "Though you should have woken me when you returned."

"But you looked so peaceful," he said softly. "I saw no reason to disturb you." His gaze sharpened slightly as he studied her. "I was made aware of something that happened while I was away."

He leveled her with a pointed look, one that Circe very deliberately pretended not to notice.

"Oh? I wonder what that could be about," she said lightly, feigning ignorance, even though she knew from that look alone that he was referring to her brief trip to the dungeons to confront Mirelle. Still, she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she shifted slightly, resting her chin against him as she batted her lashes up at him innocently.

The act might have fooled anyone else but not Ragnar.

He knew her far too well—her habits, her tells, and the types of things she was capable of.

"The guards have already told me everything that happened in the dungeons when you went to visit Mirelle," he said. "You should have told me beforehand. I would have accompanied you."

"I would have," Circe admitted, her tone softening, "but going there in the first place was an impulsive decision. I just... wanted to know why she did it. I didn’t even stop to think about what would come after I got my answers."

Then more quietly, she added, "I have never seen someone die like that."

Though she did not mourn Mirelle’s death, the memory of how she died lingered, an unsettling image that refused to fade.

"If you are here now," Circe continued after a moment, gently steering the conversation elsewhere, "I take it you have already spoken with your father."

She meant to shift their discussion to something lighter.

Ragnar’s expression shifted instantly. The softness in his features faded as his gaze drifted away from her, settling on some distant point in the room.

"No," he said quietly. "I wasn’t able to speak with him."

Circe’s brows drew together in concern.

"My father is ill," he went on. "He was poisoned and he may not survive it."

Circe felt her heart lurch painfully at his words. She could only imagine the turmoil he must be experiencing, the weight of knowing he might lose the only parent he knew. Their relationship may not have been perfect, but that did not lessen the gravity of what he was facing.

"Oh... I’m so sorry," she said softly, her concern immediate and genuine as she shifted closer to him, her hand coming up to rest gently against him in comfort. "How are you holding up?"

"I’m alright," he replied, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead. "I appreciate your concern. Everyone learns to endure this kind of loss eventually. I just didn’t expect it to come so soon for me."