Chapter 10
Before she knew it Ragnar was hoisting her body up in the air.
" Get your hands off me!" Circe shrieked, bucking her legs in the air. Despite her flailing, Ragnar continued walking with her in his hands without a word as though she weighed nothing.
He carried her towards the four-poster bed and tossed her down on it.
Circe bounced slightly when her body hit the mattress but she barely had time to roll away before Ragnar was looming over her, pinning down her limbs. He held both her hands over her head with one hand, while his knees pressed down on both her legs. It infuriated her how easy it was for him to restrain her.
After he was certain he had rendered her immobile, Ragnar's free hand patted down her sides until his palm made contact with the blade's slim handle.
With a scowl, He pulled it out from her pocket.
" That's mine! You can't take it." Circe protested, trying to buck him off her but her efforts were futile. Ragnar was heavier and apparently had a grip fashioned from steel.
" No." He snarled. " It belongs to my brother."
" Get off me!" Circe snarled right back. There wasn't a hint of fear behind her eyes, only rage and indignance.
" Did you intend to kill me with this?" He waved the blade in her face, taunting her with it. " Did you plan to wait till I fell asleep to slit my throat, or were you going to bury the blade into my back the very second we were alone?"
" Neither. I would make sure you were awake and facing me when I stabbed you with it so I could watch the light leave your eyes. Then when you are well and truly gone, I will string your corpse up and dangle you from the balcony by your feet for everyone in the palace to witness." The rage that fueled Circe's words was unlike anything she had felt before. It was hot and potent, searing her from the inside.
Circe watched as he slipped the sheath blade in his pocket
She hated him, with everything in her soul and she couldn't wait to avenge everyone that died at his callous hands.
" Do you know what would have happened had anyone else seen Jayran slip this knife into your dress? Have you lost your mind? The king would have executed you on the spot. They would have killed you! After everything I have done to protect you." He chided furiously. His voice was gruff and hard with scorn. The frayed control he had on his temper was just shy of snapping and he wanted to rain the aftermath of his anger down on the infuriating woman beneath him.
Protect her? Circe scoffed. What a joke. All Ragnar had done since she met him was endanger her and Rowen. First by invading Westeria, by presenting her before the king and queen, then by going along with this farce of a marriage.
" I never asked you to do anything. Am I to believe that you raided my kingdom, slaughtered my people and dragged me from my home to this wretched place for my safety? Go to hell, Ragnar!" Circe's words were almost a shout and with an annoyed huff, Ragnar hoisted his crushing weight off her. She sighed as she regained feeling back into her previously bound limbs.
Strands of Ragnar's long hair had fallen into his face amid their struggle and now he angrily brushed them back with his fingers. His dark eyes watched her with a mixture of annoyance and frustration.
" Go to sleep." He snapped, turning away from her. " And not a word about what happened here tonight."
Who would she even tell? Apart from Rowen, she had no allies here.
He locked the door leading into the balcony just as he had done for the one leading into the halls.
She skidded back when he approached the bed once more, all the while eying him warily. But it didn't look like he planned to get on the mattress or on top of her again for that matter. He simply grabbed a pillow off the bed and plopped it down on the divan facing the bed.
Circe heaved out a relieved sigh when she realized he wasn't planning on laying on the bed with her. Even more relieved when he didn't seem too inclined on interacting with her any further. He didn't touch her in any way that was inappropriate, not like she would even let him if he tried to but it was still a relief that he didn't.
The divan could barely contain his huge frame as he sprawled down on it and rested an arm over his eyes. He looked exhausted, like a man that hadn't rested in days.
Good, Circe thought. His discomfort brought her joy despite the situation. A man like him didn't deserve to experience even a morsel of peace.
His body soon relaxed and his breaths evened. As Circe watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, she toyed with the idea of grabbing one of the many pillows on the bed and smothering him with it. If she did that, Ragnar's death wouldn't be as satisfying as stabbing or beheading him but he would die regardless.
Exhaustion from the day's events settled on her as blackness crept from the edges, pulling her in and threatening to consume her. She resisted the lull of sleep. She couldn't even shut her eyes, not while her nemesis lay only a few feet away. For minutes she vacillated from one ploy to another, all revolving around a single subject— how best to end prince Ragnar's life.
Circe's hand had just curled around the pillow she intended to use on him when a creaking noise caught her attention. The air shifted and along with it came a sense of foreboding. It wouldn't have bothered Circe much had Ragnar not immediately sprung to his feet at the noise.
The room was bathed in the dim glow of flickering candle lights. Without making a sound, Ragnar darted into one of the shadowed corners of the room.
Circe didn't understand how someone as big as Ragnar could move so quickly and soundlessly. He turned to her right before he vanished out of sight and told her to stay quiet by placing a finger over his lips.
Circe slammed her mouth shut and closed her eyes. The door leading out to the courtyard creaked as it was pushed open.
Goosebumps spread across her skin as a cold breeze from the opened door caressed her face and arms. The whisper of fabric against foliage caught her attention the moment before a shadow drifted through the white sheer curtains as silent as the night. One of the slats of the wooden floor creaked and the intruder froze for a second before continuing toward the bed.
Without a word Ragnar skulked out of the shadows and crept towards the intruder while gripping the handle of Jayran's blade. He launched himself at the intruder, intending to tackle the person to the floor but the intruder moved out of the way at the last minute.
The assassin avoided his attack and stepped backward, a blade flashing in the moonlight. Ragnar darted out of the way and cursed as the intruder turned their attention back to Circe.
Circe saw when the attacker moved. They reached for her at the same moment she rose and slammed her head into their face. A male voice rang out as the intruder cried out in pain, stumbling back. Ragnar grabbed him by the back of his hood and placed the blade against the intruder's throat.
With a quick move, the blade went flying out of Ragnar's hand but before the man could wriggle away, Ragnar tackled him to the ground and wrapped both hands around his throat, choking the air from his lungs. The intruder clawed and scratched in an attempt to loosen Ragnar's grip. Soon his struggles slowed then ceased.
Ragnar cursed before easing away. Circe had left the bed and now stood at the other corner of the room, far away from the brawling men. She held her breath as she watched Ragnar remove the hooded shroud covering the intruders face. She watched Ragnar's brows furrow.
His voice was heavy when he spoke. " He looks barely older than sixteen. A child."
At first Circe thought the emotion she heard in his voice was sadness but now she realized that it was something far more insidious.
" Did you kill him?" Circe rasped.
Ragnar shook his head. " No. He's still alive." His gaze remained on the boy lying unconscious on the floor. " They're so desperate that they are sending children now."
Circe suspected that his last words weren't meant for her ears. Now that the threat had been neutralized, she felt her fear slowly seeping out of her and in its place came a renewed sense of vigor. Someone had tried to attack her and she wanted to know why.
" So it's true." She said. Ragnar slowly turned to face her. " Was this how your first wife died?"
" What did Jayran say when he gave you that knife?" The words sounded frantic leaving Ragnar's lips. He was prowling closer now, boxing her in.
" He said that she died the night after the wedding. He said that your brides don't live long and the nobles were placing bets on how long I was going to survive." The more she spoke, the more furious he became until he looked absolutely murderous.
Ragnar stopped when only a few feet separated them.
" Everything he said is true. But it doesn't mean you can trust him. You shouldn't trust anyone in this palace." He warned.
Circe raised a brow. " Including you?"
" Especially me."