Free Web NovelChapter 91: Chapter 91
Ragnar gave her a gentle smile as he refolded the parchment and slipped it back into his pocket with practiced ease.
He gestured toward the stable doors with a tilt of his chin. "Shall we?"
Circe’s gaze narrowed at him, wary and uncertain. A frown pinched her brow as her lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t move.
Ragnar noticed the flicker of confusion behind her eyes and quickly turned away, pretending not to see it. He didn’t want to acknowledge the storm of questions brewing in her mind, not yet at least. Not until his investigation yielded solid answers. Burdening her with half-formed theories and unconfirmed details would only lead to unnecessary worry.
But his silence did little to deter her.
"You said Lady Maelis’s guards retrieved my attacker’s body from the pond," she said, voice low but firm. It was the measured cadence of someone trying to stay calm. Her expression had not eased. In fact, the tension in her posture suggested she wasn’t planning to drop the subject until she got the answers she sought and in this case, what she wanted was the truth.
"He was," Ragnar replied smoothly, though his controlled tone only seemed to frustrate her further.
"Then whose picture was that?" she snapped, her voice rising slightly in disbelief. She stood stiffly, like a boulder planted firmly in the earth, immovable, and resolute. Her eyes locked on him, daring him to look away again. She wasn’t going anywhere until he gave her the explanation she deserved.
Ragnar sighed inwardly.
How was he supposed to explain how the first assassin died in Gonan’s dungeons? How could he tell her that their enemies were wielding a form of dark magic capable of altering their physical appearance at will? How could he ask her to grasp such a revelation when even he, despite all his experience, could barely comprehend it himself?
Yet, the storm in her grey eyes held him captive, like a fish caught on a hook. There was something in the way she stared at him now, like she could see through him completely, past the layers of diplomacy and restraint, peeling him open to reach the truth hidden within.
"What aren’t you telling me?" she pressed, stepping closer. "It’s not fair to keep me in the dark when it’s my life on the line."
She was right and he knew it.
He imagined himself in her place: surviving a violent attack only to discover that critical information was being withheld from him on purpose. The thought twisted his gut with guilt. Circe had shown far more patience than he would have in her shoes. Had their roles been reversed, Ragnar would have torn the answers from whoever dared to keep them from him.
He drew in a breath and began carefully, his voice low. "It’s only speculation for now but everything about your most recent attack points to a connection between the intruder on the night of our wedding and the body that was recovered from the pond."
Her eyes widened. ƒrēewebnovel.com
"What kind of connection?" she demanded. Her voice was steady, but he could hear the tremor just beneath the surface just as he could see the unease creeping behind her otherwise composed expression. Circe remembered that night clearly. She recalled how shaken she felt as she watched Ragnar’s hands wrap around the young assassin’s throat but it wasn’t just the intruder’s presence that greatly unsettled her that night. Her unease also partly stemmed from what Prince Jayran told her as they danced together.
The nobles had been placing bets on how long she would survive in Lamora.
The expression she wore now, a fragile blend of curiosity and apprehension, sealed his decision. This wasn’t just his burden to bear anymore. She was the target and she had the right to know everything, no matter how grim, no matter how unbelievable.
"The first attacker died in a cell in Gonan’s estate ," Ragnar said, meeting her gaze steadily. "He was murdered during his interrogation by a force I couldn’t see. I’m still not sure what exactly happened that day. Even now, I struggle to make sense of it. One moment he was alive, and the next..." He trailed off, the memory still vivid.
Circe’s brows knitted together, her face turning pale. But she said nothing, urging him silently to continue.
He did.
"I’ve since learned that both assassins, the one on our wedding night and the one pulled from the pond, were using powerful magic. Magic that allowed them to alter their appearance. The first one wasn’t as young as we initially believed, and the man that attacked you by the pond is the same man from this drawing." Ragnar tapped the parchment in his pocket.
Even as he said the words aloud, they sounded absurd. Ludicrous. But they were true regardless. freewebnσvel.cøm
Circe turned away, her eyes downcast, brows still drawn in deep thought. But now, there was something else there, glinting in her eyes, something sharp and cold.
Fear.
A weight settled heavily in his chest. That hadn’t been his intention. He hadn’t meant to scare her.
His hand moved instinctively toward her shoulder, aching to offer comfort, to close the space between them. But just as his fingers neared her skin, he stopped himself. His hand clenched into a fist, grasping nothing but air.
What was he doing? Why had his first impulse been to reach for her? To comfort her?
She wouldn’t want his touch. That night at the Hawthorne estate, she had been in shock. Frozen by terror. She hadn’t been in her right mind when she had let him touch her. He reminded himself of that, reminded himself of the resentment she still harbored toward him.
No, this distance between them was good, it was safer. It was necessary because nothing good could ever come from allowing himself the comfort of touching her whenever he pleased. And yet...
Even now, as she stood with her back to him, her body coiling with tension beneath the weight of all she had just learned, all he selfishly wanted was to hold her close and promise that she would never face any of it alone.
