"This pointless animosity you have with the twins has to co to an end. We are entering a crucial ti for the kingdom, and there is no room for petty squabbles. We must appear more united than ever. And if genuine unity is too much to expect from you, then at least pretend. I don’t need to remind you what is at stake, do I?"
A muscle in Hairan’s jaw twitched. "Of course not. I am well aware of what I stand to lose."
Nheera nodded, satisfied. "Good. You’re learning." She circled back toward him, eyes sharp with calculation. "Your father’s vague announcent only ans that we must double our efforts to secure the throne. It does not an we have lost the battle. You were always ant to be king, and even if your father nas Ragnar as his successor, it will not change that fact. The rest of the courtiers will co to understand that, just as everyone else will." Her voice dipped into sothing darker. "Even if Ragnar is made crown prince, there are still many ways to ensure he never sits on that throne."
Hairan recognized the shift in her tone, the subtle coiling of intent, and instinctively knew she was far from finished. Worse, he knew he would not like what ca next.
"Your reputation in the kingdom is... less than ideal," Nheera continued. "I have spoken to several of our allies, and they all agree that a strategic marriage alliance between you and a daughter of one of the most powerful houses will strengthen your position—"
"No." His refusal was sharp, and imdiate.
The pleasant expression she had maintained throughout their conversation vanished, replaced by the cold, imperious scowl she reserved for those she considered beneath her.
"Do not be difficult. For once in your life." Nheera’s voice was a blade. "Arranged marriages are nothing extraordinary. You were nearly in one yourself, in case your mory fails you so conveniently." Her gaze hardened. "Ragnar’s marriage to that Westerian girl will earn him nothing but judgnt. The traditional nobles will never respect him for taking a human as a wife. They will look down on him until the end of ti."
She resud pacing, skirts swishing around her legs as she moved. "And if they ever have children, they will not even be vampires. The outrage that would cause would be catastrophic. In comparison, a union between you and an influential noble’s daughter would be praised. It would elevate you in the eyes of the court. It would make you appear the better choice."
Hairan’s expression remained unimpressed, but beneath it, unease stirred.
"And what of Laheir?" he asked flatly. "How do you intend to explain marrying off barely a year after his daughter’s murder? You are delusional if you think he will take the news well."
He had barely escaped Lord Rycoff’s unsubtle marriage sches outside, only to step straight into his mother’s far more dangerous plot.
"Laheir will simply have to accept it," Nheera said with a sneer. "He, more than anyone, knows what is at stake."
And just like that, Hairan knew his fate had been sealed. When Nheera fixed her mind on a goal, almost nothing in the world could move it. Everything was a ga to her, every person around her was a piece on her board. And Hairan, unfortunately, was her favorite pawn.
***
Ragnar was nowhere to be found.
He had not been in bed with her when she woke, and he had not joined her for breakfast. Now it was nearly noon, and she had not caught even a glimpse of him all morning. She chose not to dwell on why his absence felt heavier today, lingering in her chest in a way it never had before.
Yet sohow, she found herself standing before the door to his study, fingers twisting nervously as she tried to think of a reasonable excuse in case he, or soone else, questioned why she was here. It was ridiculous. This was her husband’s study. That alone gave her the right to stand at its door... didn’t it?
She raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles could make contact with the wood, a familiar voice spoke behind her.
"His Highness isn’t in his study right now," Casilo said.
She spun around too quickly, pulling her hand back as if caught doing sothing she shouldn’t, though it was a silly thought.
"Oh." She said, trying to recover her composure. "Then has it been long since he left the estate?"
If he wasn’t here and nowhere else within sight, she assud he must have left before she woke.
Her voice ca out more quieter than she intended, sothing Casilo noticed, judging by the slight softening of his expression.
Casilo tilted his head, studying her with a sharpness that made her bristle. There was a gleam in his eyes, a far too knowing look that set her on edge.
"Are you, by any chance, looking for His Highness?" he asked.
He had witnessed more than a few of her quarrels with Ragnar, and there was a faint lilt beneath his words now, sothing dangerously close to amusent. She hated the insinuation. Hated it even more because he wasn’t wrong.
She was looking for Ragnar, for reasons she didn’t quite understand. She had grown used to waking with him in the room with her, his presence a constant, steadying weight. After being nearly inseparable for the past few days, his sudden absence left an unfamiliar tightness in her chest.
When she didn’t answer, Casilo’s smile deepened, as though he had unearthed a secret she wasn’t even aware of.
"His Highness is still on the grounds," he said. "Last I saw, he was headed toward the woods, likely to the lake he frequents."
Circe’s expression beca thoughtful, betraying far more than her voice ever would.
"All right then," she said simply before turning on her heel.
Casilo watched her go, and now he had no doubt at all that she would find her way to the woods.
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