Free Web NovelChapter 60: Chapter 60
After a quick breakfast with her brother, Circe followed behind Ragnar and Casilo as they made their way toward the stables. Nieah trailed after them, keeping a respectful distance from the men. She walked quietly, her presence oddly subdued, almost like a shadow slipping through the corridors.
A stable hand stood at the entrance of the stables, straightening the moment he saw them approach. He bowed low before Ragnar and then turned to Circe, who stood a few feet away from the prince, offering her a more tentative bow before hurrying off to fetch Ragnar’s horse.
Moments later, he returned, leading a striking black horse by the reins. The animal was tall and sleek, muscles rippling beneath its dark coat. The stable hand handed the reins to Ragnar with practiced ease, then bowed once more before disappearing into the stables again to retrieve Casilo’s mount.
As they waited, Circe drifted closer to Casilo, angling her body so that her words would reach only him. She lowered her voice into a whisper.
"What about Nieah? Why wasn’t she given a horse?" she asked, her tone filled with quiet curiosity.
Casilo’s breath hitched. She noticed the slight pause before he responded, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she had startled him with the sudden question or because of the nature of the question itself.
Circe understood why she wasn’t given a horse of her own. She was still considered a prisoner in Lamora, and the vampires didn’t trust her not to try to escape. That was why she was always made to ride with the ever-infuriating prince. But Nieah’s situation was different. She wasn’t being held against her will, nor did she pose any sort of threat. It was odd that she hadn’t been provided her own horse.
"Nieah can’t ride," Casilo admitted after a moment, scratching the spot just below his left ear. "She’s... somewhat afraid of them. I’m sure you’ve noticed that the horses bred in Lamora are much larger and faster than those in other kingdoms. They’re bred for power, not grace. These horses are harder to tame and even harder to control. It’s alway a bit difficult for inexperienced riders to learn, especially if they’re already frightened from the start."
As Casilo spoke, he glanced back at Nieah, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
"Ragnar’s tried to teach her," he added. "But nothing has come of it."
Circe nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to Nieah, who had taken a cautious step back when Ragnar’s horse had first emerged from the stables. The fear in her eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed. Circe could hardly blame her. The Lamoran horses were unlike any Circe had encountered back in her homeland. They were creatures with intense energy rippling off them. Even as someone who had learned to ride as a child alongside her older brother, Torben, Circe knew that mastering a Lamoran steed would be a challenge.
By now, Ragnar had mounted his horse and was watching her and Casilo with those cold, narrowed eyes. His expression was unreadable, but Circe could feel the weight of his gaze. He was waiting for her to approach, waiting for her to take her usual place in front of him on the saddle.
His horse let out a sharp snort when she neared, its breath fogging in the late morning air. Circe hesitated for just a moment. The urge to defy Ragnar tugged at her. It was deep in her bone, fierce, and relentless. It was like a fire simmering just beneath her skin. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
The memory of their most recent argument still burned hot in her mind, fanning the flames of her frustration. She wanted nothing more than to turn back and demand to ride with Casilo instead. At this point, she would rather cling to the side of a carriage than share a saddle with Ragnar again.
But something about the way he was looking at her made her pause. There was an edge in his expression, it was something sharp. After what he had done last night, she knew better than to push him too far. Ragnar was the type of man who would drag her off another horse just to make a point. And he would do it without flinching.
When she reached his side, Ragnar extended a hand to help her up. She stared at it for a beat before curling her lip in a sneer and swatting it away like she was brushing off an annoying insect. Without assistance, she placed her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself onto the saddle, settling in front of him without saying a word.
Ragnar’s jaw clenched. His expression darkened further, but he didn’t speak.
Beside them, Casilo mounted his horse with ease and turned to Nieah, beckoning her forward with a wave of his hand. But she didn’t move. Her eyes remained fixed on the animal, wide with fear. She looked as if she expected it to lash out at her.
After a few moments of tense hesitation, Nieah sucked in a deep breath and finally took a tentative step forward. Her every movement was stiff, and cautious. Circe couldn’t help but wonder how long Nieah had been in Lamora if she was still this terrified of their horses.
Casilo reached out a hand toward her, and this time, Nieah accepted it without hesitation. He helped her onto the horse, and Circe noted the way Nieah clutched the reins like a lifeline, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of her grip.
The ride into town was quicker than Circe expected. The woods surrounding the manor eventually gave way to narrow roads that opened into the bustling heart of the city. The peaceful quiet of the estate was soon replaced by the chatter of voices, and the steady pounding of hooves against packed dirt.
Ragnar and Circe led the way, while Casilo and Nieah followed behind at a comfortable distance. The group slowed as they approached a massive estate. It was a house that rivaled the size and grandeur of Ragnar’s manor. It sat at the very center of town like a crown jewel, its ornate iron gates already swinging open as they drew near.
Just as Ragnar and Casilo dismounted, a man rushed out of the house, his footsteps hurried and eager. He looked to be someone important, well-dressed, with a ring of keys jangling at his belt. He bowed deeply in greeting, his eyes darting nervously between the prince and the foreign women still on horseback.
