"I kissed Ragnar last night," she said in a rush. "And now I don't know how to feel about it."
For a moment all Nieah could do was blink, certain that she must have misheard.
"You kissed his Highness?" she asked at last, disbelief bleeding into every syllable.
The very idea sounded absurd to her. She had seen the way they clashed, the biting remarks they constantly spat at each other, the sharp glares that could cut through steel, the constant tension that filled every room they shared.
There had been times Nieah wondered if the two of them were even capable of having a conversation without it dissolving into an argument. The notion of them sharing a kiss, of all things, felt completely impossible.
And yet she knew that Circe would never lie about such a thing.
Circe let out a low groan and pressed her palms against her face. "Don't say it like that," she muttered, her voice muffled by her hand. "It sounds so much worse when you do."
