"Your Highness, I know what I saw," Corvin said, bristling further. His expression tightened as though the re suggestion that he could be mistaken was a personal affront. The insult was written plainly across his face, and he made no effort to hide it.
Ragnar, however, remained unmoved. He stood with the sa infuriating calm, cool and collected, as though they were not discussing an accusation as grave as murder. If anything, his composure only seed to deepen Corvin’s agitation. By now, it was obvious that Corvin did not co here just to lay accusations. There was sothing else driving him, sothing personal. His sharp, calculating gaze swept over Ragnar, searching for the smallest fracture in his armor.
Ragnar gave him none.
"How do you expect to confirm the validity of your statent?" Ragnar asked evenly. His tone was asured, and it angered Corvin even further. "We both know I would never have gotten to where I am today if I simply believed everything I was told."
Corvin’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. He clearly did not like the direction this conversation was taking.
"But I am not just anyone," Corvin snapped. "I have been a staunch supporter of the crown, and I have been a mber of the royal court longer than your father has been king. You may choose to disregard what I am saying, but my words hold weight. They an sothing to many people." His gaze hardened as he fixed it on Ragnar. "And if I take this matter to the queen, my testimony alone could be the reason your wife is sent to the King’s Tower."
He held Ragnar’s stare without flinching. Then, after a tense heartbeat, his lips curved into a thin smile that did not reach his eyes.
It was a threat that was aid squarely at Circe.
In any other situation, such a threat would have been enough to ignite Ragnar’s fury. He could feel it simring dangerously beneath the surface. But he forced it down. He knew better than to let emotion guide him now. Matters like these needed to be handled delicately.
"You have said what brought you here, have you not? Then why don’t you sit, so we may discuss the matter further." He gestured once more toward one of the empty chairs in the parlour.
"I don’t see what else there is to discuss, Your Highness," Corvin said, casting him a skeptical look. "You have already called a liar." He said it like it was the worst type of insult.
"Oh, but we do," Ragnar said simply. "And you misunderstood completely. I rely asked you a question."
His expression did not change as he continued. "My wife has been in this kingdom for only a few months. While we had our differences at the beginning, I have co to know her well enough to be certain of one thing. She could never do what you are accusing her of. She had no reason to kill Lady Irah Alder. She barely even knew most of the won present yesterday."
The lie slid effortlessly from his lips, seamlessly entwined with just enough truth to make it convincing. His face remained perfectly composed, betraying nothing. Corvin could study him for hours and still find no trace of deception.
"But I cannot say I am surprised that soone targeted Irah," Ragnar continued, his tone thoughtful. "We stopped being close after I left to join the army. Still, I heard she was quite difficult to be around. Hardly pleasant company. From what I rember, your wife even had a long-standing conflict with her. One that nearly cost you your standing in court. A situation that undoubtedly caused distress to your entire family."
He held Corvin’s gaze steadily. "With all that she did, I don’t expect you to mourn her at all. From where I stand, it seems that you, Lord Corvin, have far more reason to want Irah dead than anyone else, let alone my wife."
The words hung heavily in the air.
Ragnar then glanced pointedly at the chair once more. "Have a seat, Lord Corvin," he said. "I insist."
Corvin stared at him, disbelief written plainly across his face. Slowly, he lowered himself into the chair. Whatever confidence he had entered with had been stripped away piece by piece, leaving him stunned and montarily speechless.
"I had nothing to do with Irah’s murder," Corvin finally said through clenched teeth. It was startling how quickly the balance of power had shifted. Monts ago, he had been the one making threats. Now, he was the one defending himself.
"I have no way of confirming anything you have just said," Ragnar replied coolly. "Am I simply ant to take your word for it?" The look on his face shifted slightly, as though a new thought had occurred to him. "This may all be a misunderstanding. Perhaps you saw the true culprit but mistook them for my wife."
Ragnar tilted his head. "I could bring her here, if you wish. So you may see for yourself that you were mistaken from the start."
Corvin’s lips thinned, irritation flashing across his face, but after a mont he gave a single nod. He had no idea what the prince was planning, but he had little choice now except to wait and see it unfold.
Ragnar left the parlour, casting one last glance over his shoulder. True to his word, he went in search of Circe, though not for the reasons Corvin assud.
He headed first to their bedchambers. He grasped the knob and pushed the door open, only to find her standing just on the other side, fully dressed for the day, her hand already reaching for the handle as though she had been about to step out.
"Has your guest left already?" Circe asked. She was present earlier when the guard inford Ragnar that Lord Corvin was waiting for him in the foyer.
Ragnar stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him before he answered her. The soft click of the latch sounded far louder than it should have in the sudden stillness.
"No," he said at last. "He’s still here."
There was a gravity in his eyes as he looked at her, sothing dark and thoughtful that imdiately set her nerves on edge. "But he is claiming that he saw you murder Irah."
Circe’s breath caught, her eyes widening in shock. Her mouth opened to speak but Ragnar continued before she could find her voice.
"I am already handling the situation," he said calmly, though she could hear the edge in his voice. "But I can’t do this alone. I want to ask him a few questions, and I need you to confirm whether or not he is telling the truth. Can you do that for ?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, sothing seed to shift in him. His expression softened, regret flickering across his features. He rembered her telling him about how her father had used her abilities when she was young, how he had treated her magic as tools to be wielded for his own gain.
Ragnar stepped closer and took her hand in his. He squeezed gently. "You don’t have to," he added quietly. "If this is too much, if you don’t want to do it, say the word. I will never force you into anything."
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