Free Web NovelChapter 520: Chapter 520
The throne room had descended into complete disorder after Hairan’s collapse and people carried him away.
Circe could barely focus on anything else anymore. The strain of holding Zeriel’s soul within this realm had become unbearable. Every second felt like knives tearing through her veins. By the time Ragnar guided her away from the throne room, her legs were already beginning to weaken beneath her.
He brought her to one of the quieter chambers deep within the palace. A private room once reserved for royal meetings. The heavy doors closed behind them, shutting out the chaos beyond.
With Ragnar help, Circe lowered herself into a high back chair, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. The cut on her palm throbbed painfully.
The wound should have started healing by now if it wasn’t for how drained she felt after the entire ordeal that just happened.
But she and Ragnar were not alone. Zeriel had followed them. His soul was tethered Circe for as long as she kept him in this realm, hence he had no choice but to follow her wherever she went.
Zeriel’s spectral figure stood near the tall arched window, more translucent than before. The edges of his form rippled faintly like moonlight on water.
He turned and looked at Circe, his expression softening with gratitude.
"You have given me more than I deserve, Princess Circe," Zeriel said. "To drag a soul back from the veil is no small feat. I thank you. And I release you from this burden. Let me go now, child. You have done enough."
Circe’s fingers tightened briefly around Ragnar’s hand before she nodded. She drew a slow breath and loosened the threads of magic that bound Zeriel to her. The light around the dead king brightened for a moment, then dulled once again.
Zeriel’s gaze finally landed on Ragnar and for a long moment, father and son simply looked at one another. The silence between them stretched, filled with words that were left unsaid for decades.
"I was not the father you needed," Zeriel began at last. "I see that more clearly now. I looked the other way so many times, even when Nheera was intentionally being cruel to you. I should have protected my own blood. I was wrong. Deeply, shamefully wrong."
Ragnar stood motionless, rendered speechless by his father’s statement.
Zeriel continued, the regret raw in every word. "I neglected you for years. You grew up under my roof carrying wounds I could have spared you. I should have been better. You deserved a father who stood between you and harm, not one who looked the other way."
He took a step closer, though his feet made no sound. "I cannot undo the years I failed you, Ragnar. But I can ask your forgiveness, even if I have no right to it."
Ragnar’s throat worked, trying to swallow past the fist-size lump trapped there.
"I spent most of my life hating you," he admitted. These were words he had never muttered out loud before now. "For how distant you were to all of us in the past. For choosing her comfort over mine. When I joined the army, I did it solely for you to see me as something more than just your bastard. I could never seem to hold your attention for long, and there was a type of freedom I felt within myself when I stopped trying to please you. But I do not carry any hatred for you in my heart anymore."
Zeriel’s shoulders sagged, as if an invisible weight had finally lifted. A faint, bittersweet smile touched his lips.
"Thank you," He said, "Be better than I was. Rule with kindness and integrity. Protect those who cannot protect themselves. And love fiercely... without shame." His gaze drifted briefly to Circe before returning to Ragnar. "You already have the heart for it."
The light around Zeriel began to fade, growing softer and thinner. His form shimmered like mist in the morning sun.
The last threads of her magic slipped away like sand blowing in the wind.
Zeriel looked at them both one final time—his son and the woman who had made this farewell possible. And then he was gone.
***
Circe and Ragnar had chosen to spend the night in the same sparsely decorated room where she had first stayed in the palace upon arriving in the kingdom.
Though there were far more grander rooms throughout the palace for them to choose from, this one held their shared history. The simple wooden bedframe, the plain walls, and the narrow window overlooking the eastern gardens, it was just as they remembered it from months ago.
She lay beside him now in nothing but her thin white shift, while he remained bare from the waist up. Early morning sunshine filtered through the linen curtains, casting a pale light across the sheets. Ragnar had woken first. He propped himself on one elbow and watched her sleep, studying the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way her long dark lashes rested against her cheeks.
In these moments she looked so peaceful. No matter how many mornings they shared, her beauty still caught him off guard. To him, she was perfect and she was entirely his.
After a while, Circe’s lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened and a gentle smile curved her lips when she found him watching her.
"Good morning," she whispered.
He leaned down and kissed her without answering. The kiss started slow and tender, just a chaste brushing of lips, then deepening as she opened for him. He savored the feel of her lips on his, the familiar taste of her. From there he trailed kisses along the line of her throat and across her collarbone, then lower, pressing soft, lingering kisses over the swells of her breasts through the thin fabric of her shift. He wanted more but he held himself back.
Summoning his father yesterday had drained her badly. Her body still needed time to recover.
He moved upward again and kissed her once more on the mouth. freёwebnovel.com
"Thank you," he murmured against her lips. "For all you did for me yesterday and the day before, for standing beside me in what was one of the hardest moments in my life. Without your help I wouldn’t have even been able to achieve half of what we accomplished together."
