As the final coronation rites ca to an end, Ragnar and Circe stood up from their thrones.
The mont they stepped away from the dais, one of the royal guards approached swiftly. The man bowed deeply before leaning close to Ragnar and whispering sothing into his ear. After delivering the ssage, he stepped away imdiately without another word.
Circe glanced up at Ragnar curiously, but Ragnar rely smiled. He leaned closer toward her, his voice lowered as the words were ant for her ears alone.
"Your mother and brother have arrived," he murmured.
The effect was imdiate.
Ragnar watched contentedly as Circe’s entire face brightened with joy, her eyes lighting up in a way no crown or ceremony had managed to achieve all day.
"I should go and welco them properly. The journey was long, I should show them to their rooms," Circe said quickly, already sounding eager at the thought of finally being reunited with them.
"I will co with you," Ragnar replied without hesitation.
But Circe shook her head slightly. She was well aware that countless eyes were still following their every movent, even now. Keeping her voice low enough that no one else would overhear, she tried to reason with him.
"Look at all these people who ca here today. They will all want a word with you at so point."
Ragnar looked entirely unconcerned.
"Then I am sure they can wait a little longer while I go greet my in-laws instead," he said smoothly before giving her hand an affectionate squeeze.
Circe could not stop the smile that ford on her face at his words.
"Lead the way then, Your Majesty," she teased softly.
A chuckle escaped Ragnar as he guided her through the throngs of nobles and officials crowding the hall. Many bowed as they passed while others attempted to gain Ragnar’s attention, but neither of them slowed.
Circe kept her hand firmly in his the entire way, her excitent growing with every step they took toward the entrance where the guard had said her family was waiting.
From a distance, she could already make out the silhouettes of a woman and a small boy standing near the grand doors, though their backs were turned toward her. Yet the closer she ca, the more familiar they beca.
"Mother. Rowen," Circe called out warmly.
The mont Thalora and Rowen turned at the sound of her voice, Circe slipped her hand from Ragnar’s grasp and hurried toward them without another thought.
Outside the entrance, footn were already busy unloading trunks containing their belongings from the carriage that had brought them from Amris. Servants moved back and forth carrying carefully packed belongings toward the bedchambers Circe had personally chosen for her mother and brother before the coronation.
Ragnar could not help the grin spreading across his face as he watched their reunion.
Circe threw her arms around Rowen first, nearly pulling him off his feet as she embraced him tightly. Rowen laughed happily and clung to her in return before Circe turned imdiately to Thalora and wrapped her arms around her mother next.
Ragnar moved a little closer, wanting to hear them better.
"I am so happy for you," Thalora said lovingly as she held her daughter close. "You were always destined for greatness. But queen or not, you will always be my perfect little girl. I am so very proud of you."
Emotion flickered briefly across Circe’s face at those words.
"Thank you." She murmured back.
Thalora and Rowen were so focused on Circe that Ragnar remained unnoticed even as he stood nearby, giving him the rare opportunity to simply stand back and observe the affection they shared so naturally with one another.
It was the kind of unconditional love Ragnar had spent most of his life without.
As he watched them, he found himself thinking how different his own childhood had been. There had been no embraces like these. No soft reassurances. No place where he had truly felt safe or cherished within the palace. The only remaining family mber he had ever been remotely close to was Jayran.
Yet strangely, the absence no longer troubled him the way it once had.
Because now he had Circe and together, they were building a family of their own.
The thought alone filled him with a deep sense of peace. Soon their child would be born, and their little family would grow even larger. For the first ti in his life, Ragnar finally possessed everything he had once believed was forever beyond his reach.
It was Rowen who noticed him first.
The young boy imdiately straightened before lowering himself into a respectful bow.
"Your Majesty," Rowen greeted politely.
Ragnar’s grin widened further at the sight.
Instead of accepting the formality, Ragnar bent lower and stretched his arms wide open in invitation.
The mont Rowen rose from his bow, the boy rushed straight into Ragnar’s embrace.
"I apologize for not being there to see you receive your crown," Rowen said sincerely as Ragnar held him. "I wish I could have made the carriage move faster."
There had simply not been enough ti.
Thalora and Rowen had only received word of Ragnar’s and Circe’s victory late yesterday afternoon after a royal ssenger arrived at their manor in Amris. By the ti preparations were made and everything was packed for the journey to the capital, very little ti remained for the trip itself.
Still, neither of them had considered staying behind.
They had traveled through the night regardless, determined to be there for Circe no matter how late they arrived.
Ragnar eventually released Rowen from the embrace before patting him reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Do not fret," Ragnar said warmly. "All that matters is that both of you arrived safely."
Then, with sudden mischief glimring in his eyes, Ragnar removed the crown resting upon his head and turned it over thoughtfully in his hands as though examining it.
"This crown may be mine now," he mused, "but I reckon it would look far better on you."
Rowen’s eyes widened in surprise.
Carefully, Ragnar lowered the heavy crown onto the boy’s head.
It was far too large and sat crookedly over Rowen’s hair, nearly slipping over his eyes from the weight of it, but Ragnar only laughed softly as he adjusted it slightly.
"Just as I thought," Ragnar declared proudly. "A perfect fit."
Both Circe and Thalora stood quietly, watching the interaction unfold before them.
"I cannot wear this crown. It is ant for a king," Rowen said softly, his fingers lifting gingerly to brush against the ornate crown resting upon his head, as though he feared he had no right to touch sothing so significant.
"And who says you cannot be a king?" Ragnar asked. "I think you would make a wonderful ruler."
At Ragnar’s statent, Circe’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. She glanced between the two of them, sensing there was far more hidden within those words than what had been spoken aloud. So unspoken understanding seed to pass between Ragnar and Rowen, though she could not yet grasp its full aning.
Rowen fell silent for a mont after that, as if carefully considering Ragnar’s words in his mind. Eventually, he reached up and gently removed the crown from his head before handing it back to Ragnar with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for letting wear it. I appreciate it."
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