An amused smile took over Jayran’s entire face. " So you do care about ."
Ragnar didn’t answer but he also didn’t bother denying it either. He hated Jayran’s antics but it didn’t an he was just going to stand back and watch sothing bad happen to him. And unlike Hairan, Jayran had never truly done anything to hurt him before.
Ragnar rose from his chair too and closed the distance with asured steps, stopping beside Jayran in front of the heart. Without a word, he crouched and began arranging the scattered logs, shifting them into place until they ford a compact structure around the ring.
He struck a match and touched it to the kindling. A flicker of fla caught, then surged, licking hungrily over the ring. The erald glowed fiercely for a mont before the heat consud it entirely. Then it let out a low hiss as the molten light faded into embers.
Ragnar straightened, and the two of them stood side by side, watching the fire in silence. The warmth from the hearth spread through the room and a sense of finality settled between them.
Jayran might have been the one who stole the ring and smuggled it out of the palace, but it was still Ragnar that ultimately lit the fire to burn it. Both their nas were now inexplicably tied to the cri. If one of them goes down, the other would follow suit.
" We will both hang for this." Ragnar muttered and it wasn’t to scare Jayran. He said it because that was what would most likely happen when the queen found out.
" Without a doubt." Jayran said, then doubled over with laughter like he found the entire situation amusing.
****
Later that day, several maids entered Ragnar’s room carrying loaded trays of food, and seconds later the room was filled with the savoury aromas.
The maids laid the plates down with care, taking their ti to properly set the table and soon plates of roasted pheasant with herbs, glazed carrots, a dish of seasoned green beans, and bowls of fresh stew lined the table.
A slender vase was placed at the center of the table, stuffed with fresh flowers procured from the garden only minutes ago.
Once everything was done, the maids bowed and turned towards the door without a word.
Ragnar, who had watched them bring in the food, glanced at Circe now and gestured toward the table.
"Join ," he said simply. The dinner was just for the two of them.
Circe obliged and took her seat, settling herself across from him. Her eyes flicked briefly over the carefully prepared al and soon the clink of silverware against plates was the only sound filling the room.
As they ate, Circe noticed how unusually quiet he was. His eyes, which were normally alert and attentive, seed distant now. He moved thodically, cutting his food into bite sized chunks but his focus was fixed sowhere beyond the walls of the room.
Curiosity finally overca her.
She set down her cutlery and called his na to get his attention.
"Ragnar?"
She waited for him to look up at her.
" Is sothing wrong?" she asked gently, holding his gaze. Concern was evident in her tone and she couldn’t change that no matter what she did.
He shook his head slightly, forcing a small, reassuring smile.
"Nothing’s wrong. I was just a bit lost in thought," he said, and left it at that.
Circe nodded, not truly accepting the vague reply, but also knowing that she really couldn’t do anything if he didn’t want to tell her about it. She picked up her cutlery once more.
The truth, however, was clear to Ragnar alone. The mory of the ring consud him and it was all he could think about. Its power, and the way the queen had wielded it to control and manipulate everyone around him.
And yet, when he and Jayran had destroyed it, it had felt oddly anticlimactic. The ease with which it burned in the hearth left him unnerved, a strange hollowness gnawing at him.
It made him feel restless in a way he didn’t understand, coupled with the way he knew the queen would react afterwards and it was a miracle that Ragnar could sit still.
He pushed the thoughts aside and shifted the conversation. "My brother Jayran will be staying over for the night."
Circe blinked, surprised.
She rembered Jayran. The first and only ti they ever spoke with each other was at the wedding, and Jayran had spilled a knife into the pocket of her dress. A knife that had co in handy later that night as Ragnar used it to fight off the assassin that snuck into their room.
"I would prefer it if the two of you never had to interact," Ragnar continued, his voice asured, "but I know that it can’t be helped, given that we are married and he is still my brother."
Circe considered her next question carefully. "Is he dangerous? Like the queen?"
Ragnar’s expression hardened just slightly, though he spoke calmly. "Yes, he can be, if he truly wants to. But he has no reason to harm you, so you don’t need to worry."
Circe’s fork hovered above her plate, her appetite waning slowly. "So Jayran has no reason to want to harm but Prince Hairan and the queen do?"
Ragnar studied her for a long mont, his gaze heavy, and intense. The look in his eyes made her shiver. When he finally spoke, there was a severity in his tone that she had never witnessed in him before.
"Yes," he said quietly. "And so does the king’s chief advisor."
This was sothing she should have known already, Ragnar thought to himself. He knew about her even before they officially t and he also knew that she had been a mber of her father’s council before the war so there was no reason she wouldn’t know why those three would try to cause her harm.
Not after what her father did
Everyone in Lamora knew. But as Ragnar continued to watch her from across the table, he noticed a strange look on her face that made his gut twist.
The look on her face was confusion.
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