Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 537: Chapter 537

A week later, the palace ballroom was buzzing with activity as the royal ball proceeded just as she planned. Hundreds of candles glowed from massive chandeliers suspended high above polished floors while musicians filled the vast chamber with soft orchestral music. Noble families from across Lamora occupied the ballroom dressed in lavish garments, their voices blending into a constant hum of conversation beneath the music.

The royal ball had been Circe’s idea. She thought of it right before she decided to funnel all the expensive gifts she received days earlier into this endeavor. There were far more people that needed those things more than she did.

After the rebel attacks that had ravaged portions of the capital and eastern territories, entire communities still remained damaged. Homes had been destroyed. Businesses burned. Some families had lost everything.

So tonight’s event served two main purposes.

The first was to demonstrate the strength and unity of the crown while calling upon the nobility to offer generous gifts in support of the rebuilding efforts and aid for those displaced by the violence.

This was Circe’s first official ball as queen and also the first she had ever hosted since coming to Lamora.

Circe stood near the center of the ballroom beside Ragnar as another noble couple bowed in front of them before offering their contribution.

"Your generosity is appreciated," Circe said politely.

The older lord smiled warmly. "The kingdom is fortunate to have a queen so mindful of her people, Your Majesty."

Circe returned the smile with one of her own despite the growing ache in her feet..

The last week had been exhausting. Between royal meetings, noble visits, fulfilling her duties as queen, and preparations for this charity event, she had barely experienced a moment of peace.

Pregnancy only made the exhaustion worse, though thankfully no one from the gathered crowd seemed to notice.

Her gowns had been adjusted carefully to conceal the subtle changes in her body.

Ragnar’s hand briefly brushed against the small of her back as the noble couple finally moved away.

"You’re doing well," he murmured quietly. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jayran mingling with a few of the guests and Elka stood at the other side of the ballroom doing the opposite.

Circe resisted the urge to sigh. "I have spoken to approximately eighty-seven strangers tonight."

"My love, you have only spoken to twenty." He was clearly holding back a laugh.

She turned toward him slowly. "You counted?"

He flashed her a charming smile that only made her narrowed her eyes in displeasure.

Before she could reply, another cluster of nobles approached them.

The evening continued much the same afterward.

When the music shifted, Ragnar took Circe’s hand and guided her smoothly into the opening steps of a waltz as the other couples around them followed suit.

Afterwards, she spoke graciously with noble families she barely ever remembered meeting before, and listened patiently as more people pledged donations toward the rebuilding effort.

But gradually, she began noticing something else. Some of the guests were giving her odd looks while they whispered amongst themselves.

At first, they seemed harmless enough.

Circe wasn’t naive enough to believe that she would not one day become a topic of discussion among the nobility.

But after the fourth or fifth time she caught conversations abruptly stopping the moment she passed nearby, irritation slowly began settling beneath her calm exterior.

Circe said nothing about it initially. Instead, she continued moving through the ballroom with Ragnar at her side, smiling when necessary and maintaining perfect countenance even as unease slowly tightened in her chest.

Then she overheard one of their hushed conversations properly.

She had stepped away briefly from the center of the ballroom after finishing another dance, intending to escape the crowd long enough to breathe. Ragnar had been intercepted by one of his generals, leaving Circe temporarily alone as she crossed toward one of the less crowded parts of the ballroom.

She slowed upon hearing voices near her.

"...already showing slightly if you look carefully enough."

Circe stopped walking entirely. The speakers had not noticed her yet so she took the opportunity to listen uninterrupted.

Three noblewomen stood partially concealed behind one of the marble columns, their attention fixed elsewhere as they spoke in lowered voices.

"I heard the physicians confirmed it a while ago."

"And yet no official announcement has been made."

"Well," another woman murmured delicately, "perhaps His Majesty wished to take the kingdom first before doing that."

A brief pause followed before someone spoke again.

"I only find the timing somewhat curious."

Circe remained perfectly still.

"What do you mean?"

The woman hesitated just enough to suggest false reluctance.

"I simply mean Her Majesty spent many months in Amris surrounded by... companions whenever his majesty was away on duty. I heard there was one man in particular she was very close to."

"Mister Minovo?"

"Yes, him."

Circe felt something cold settle in her stomach.

The women continued before she could step away.

"Lady Ophelia mentioned hearing concerning things regarding their relationship."

"Surely not."

"She said the attachment appeared improper."

"And now the queen is with child. One has to wonder if his majesty is even the father."

Circe sucked in a sharp breath, frozen to the spot in shock. She couldn’t believe her ears, couldn’t believe people had the audacity to spew such nonsense.

For one dangerous second, white hot anger flared through her so hard she nearly lost control. She glanced down and found glowing threads curling around her arms like vines.

The women still had not noticed her standing there.

"She is a foreigner," one of them chimed in. "They might have different customs where she is from, but still It would become disastrous if questions ever arose regarding succession and the legitimacy of the king’s children."

That was enough.

Circe stepped fully into their line of view. The women froze immediately.

Shock flooded across all three faces as they stared at her standing barely several feet away. One of them turned deathly pale. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"Your Majesty," the eldest woman stammered quickly as all three dropped into hurried bows.

Circe looked at them calmly. The kind of calm that made people nervous. "I would advise that the next time you discuss the legitimacy of my unborn child, you do so somewhere less public."

One of the younger women looked moments away from fainting entirely.

"Your majesty, we meant no disrespect—"

"Really? Then what did you intend to accomplish when you three spouted lies about me?" Circe asked, never once raising her voice. If anything, her calmness only frightened the women more than they already were.

The women bowed lower immediately, murmuring frantic apologies while Circe regarded them in silence for another moment before finally turning away.

Only once she disappeared back into the crowd did they dare breathe properly again.

But Circe barely noticed them anymore because now her mind was elsewhere, recalling as she had overheard.

Rumors regarding her pregnancy.

This was not random gossip or idly chatter. It felt like someone had started this rumor about her intentionally.

Circe moved through the ballroom again with measured steps despite the irritation simmering beneath her skin now and as she melted deeper into the crowd, one name rang repeatedly in her mind.

Ophelia.

She heard one of those women mention her name in their conversation.

Soon, she slipped back into her role as hostess. She accepted greetings automatically, smiled when spoken to, and thanked another noble lord for his donation without fully hearing half the conversation.

Her thoughts remained fixed on the rumors circulating about her.

By the time Ragnar found her again near the staircase overlooking the ballroom floor, he immediately noticed the difference in her expression.

"What happened?" he asked, concern.

Circe looked toward the crowd below.

"Apparently," she said evenly, "I am already the subject of scandal."

Ragnar’s face darkened almost instantly. "Who said something?"

"It was several people, in fact."

He clenched his jaw. "What kind of scandal?"

Circe hesitated briefly. Not because she feared telling him but because she knew exactly how furious he would become.

"They were discussing my pregnancy," she said finally. "And questioning whether the child is yours."

The shift in Ragnar’s demeanor was immediate. Cold anger settled over his features so quickly it almost startled even her.

"Who?" he asked.

Just one word, yet she knew what he was demanding.

Circe exhaled softly through her nose. "I do not know yet."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her.

Circe finally glanced toward him. "I have no interest in creating public drama over gossip whispered by bored nobles at a ball. But I would like to know who decided that questioning the legitimacy of the royal child was a wise decision."

Ragnar stepped closer and slipped his arm around her, not caring who was watching. "You do not need to handle this alone."

"I know." She said, leaning into his touch. "You will always be the first person I run to."

Circe looked back toward the ballroom below where nobles continued laughing, dancing, and conversing beneath golden candlelight as though nothing had changed.

Somewhere within that crowd sat the person responsible.

And Circe intended to find them.