Chapter 18

Clothes were folded neatly beside her on the bed when she stirred awake. They weren't the drab clothes she was made to wear around the palace but dresses fashioned from quality silks.

Still groggy from sleep, Circe scanned her surroundings. Ragnar was nowhere to be found.

She was so exhausted after dinner, she didn't remember falling asleep, or even how long she slept. Several nights without rest had planted a bone-deep weariness that made her eyelids heavy and her limbs feel like lead bricks.

Sunlight trickled into the bedroom through the gap in the curtains, bright and impossible to ignore.

When the bedroom door creaked open minutes later, she expected it to be Ragnar but two girls shuffled inside instead. They carried buckets filled with water, pausing when they found Circe awake and watching them curiously.

" Your highness." They said in unison, bowing at the waist, never once setting down their bucket. They were dressed in simple matching grey dresses, similar to the clothes Irah had given Circe. White cloth was wrapped around their heads, completely hiding their hair from sight.

" Mistress Nieah sent us to prepare you a bath then leave. We were told you would still be fast asleep. We would have made sure to knock if we knew you had woken," Said one of the girls. Her voice grew more frantic with each word out of her mouth. Circe's continued silence did nothing to relieve the girl's apparent stress.

What did they think Circe would do? Have them flogged for entering their prince's chambers without permission?

All Circe wanted was to remain tangled in those soft sheets and fall into another deep slumber.

Circe blinked at them, dazed. Their bodies were still bent in a low bow.

" What time is it?" Circe croaked. Her throat felt as dry as the Azairen desert. There was a pounding in the front of her skull.

" Just after noon, Your highness." One of the girls said.

Circe sat up straight in a snap. Her sleepy confusion vanished like it was never there to begin with, replaced with sharp eyed clarity.

Noon. She had never woken so late, not even while she still lived in Westeria and was still the pampered Princess everyone loved.

She waved a dismissive hand at them. " Please. Carry on with your tasks. Pretend like I'm not here."

The girls exchanged a strange look and nodded. They rose from their bows and carried their buckets to Ragnar's sectioned off bathing chambers.

When the tub was filled with warm water, the two girls stood side by side as they faced Circe once more, empty buckets dangling from their grasp.

" Do you need one of us to help you bathe?" The one on the right asked. They had very distinctive features. One was pale with brown eyes while the other was more tan with vibrant green eyes.

" No, there's no need," Circe paused, " where is Ragnar?"

She asked not out of concern or even curiosity, she frankly wouldn't care if he was unconscious in a ditch somewhere. She asked so she would be sure that he wouldn't barge inside while she was in a state of undress.

The girls shared another look.

" His highness left this morning on horseback." The one on the left answered. It was the first time she had spoken since.

Circe furrowed her brows. " Where did he go?"

The servants fidgeted under the intensity of her gaze.

" The palace, your highness." One stammered.

" To see her majesty, the queen." The other girl finished.

Memories from last night came rushing back with the force of a torrential downpour. The messengers that rode over, the summons from the queen.

Ragnar went to speak to her.

Despite their shared glances and fidgeting, Circe knew they spoke the truth. She always knew when she was being deliberately lied to.

" You may leave." Circe didn't wait to see if they actually followed orders. She left the bed, escaping the soft warmth it offered and headed for the bathing chambers. The sound of the bedroom closing was the only proof the girls had done as they were told.

Her mind ran wild with thoughts as she slipped into the tub. Her head was like a battlefield with how chaotic it always was, so many opposing and conflicting thoughts and notions for her to sort through every second of the day. It was somehow even worse now. Something wasn't right, Circe felt it deep in her bones.

The bath water smelled like rose petals and vanilla from the amount of bath oils the servants poured into the tub. She lathered her hair and body with soap before dunking her head under the water to rinse off the suds.

The water slushed over her skin as she reclined back in the tub and shut her eyes. She remained like that for a while, still and silent, barely even breathing.

Soon the warm water turned cold. Circe stepped out of the tub, grabbing the towel that was left out on the hanging rack and wrapped it around her sopping body.

She dawned the pale blue dress laid out for her. It was loose around the bust and waist but it was barely anything worth complaining about.

Later that day, Circe asked if she could take her meal on the terrace. In Ragnar's absence, there was no one to refuse her. The serving girls indulged her requests with a rehearsed smile on their faces, yet Circe sensed distrust and disdain wafting off them when they had their backs turned.

Circe tried to see the situation from their eyes. She was the princess from a rival kingdom who suddenly married the lord of this manor. She was not only a stranger, an oddity, she was also a human. A human they were forced to respect and serve.

Nieah came to mind. She never looked at Circe with either disdain or distrust. Perhaps it was because they were both humans but she had a feeling that the true reason was much deeper than that, rooted in something unspoken that neither of them had dared to name.

Servants filed in silently, setting a lavish spread upon the round table on the terrace, platters brimming with roasted meats, sugared fruits, and golden loaves still steaming from the hearth. Without a single word, they bowed and slipped away.

Alone, Circe gazed out at the large expanse of spiral greenery that surrounded the manor. Birds cawed and chirruped in the distance, their songs carried on a breeze laced with the first breath of autumn. The trees, still cloaked in rich emerald, had yet to shed their leaves, though a subtle bite in the air foretold the turning of the season.

Circe wanted to commit the sight to memory. She gazed at the scenery before her like a starving man would stare at a banquet. Her fingers itched to sketch the very landscape. It didn't matter the circumstances that brought her there, she couldn't deny how truly breathtaking the land was.

The sounds of approaching footsteps pierced the silence. She turned her head to the side and spotted Rowen racing in her direction. Her lips stretched into a grin, widening the closer he got.

She noticed he had one hand behind his back, the other hanging loose at his side.

" Circe!" He called, almost colliding into the table with how fast he was running. He was panting by the time he came to a complete halt. " Can I sit with you?" He asked but he was already pulling out a chair before she could respond.

He only asked for the sake of being polite. They both knew she wouldn't refuse him.

Before he sat, he dropped something on her lap. It was a small leather-bound journal. Its pages were crisp and pristine, not a single drop of ink on it.

Her smile fell.

Circe's hands shook slightly as she held the journal up.

" Where did you get this?" She demanded.

Rowen responded with a small shrug. " I snuck into Casilo's rooms and snatched it off one of his drawers. There were so many like it, he would barely notice this one is missing." He grabbed an apple from the tray of fresh fruits and bit into it."

" You shouldn't have done that." She rebuked.

" You shouldn't have had to marry the prince but here we are."

" Do you know what would have happened if you got caught skulking around in one of their bedrooms?"

" I didn't get caught, so we will never know." He folded his arms over his chest in defiance. Right then she saw bits and pieces of the true Rowen. Fearless and headstrong. She acted like him when she was his age, back when she believed that her status as princess was enough to shield her from the horrors of the world.

" Why are you giving it to me?" She asked. Her thumb brushed against the spine.

" Because you needed it." His arms fell to his sides. " Because we couldn't take your old ones with us. Why not start a new one here?"

He saw and knew far more than she gave him credit for.

Circe glanced down at the table top, trying her best to rearrange her thoughts. When she finally looked back up at him, there was a big smile on her face once more.

" Thank you." She intended to fill its pages with pictures of every single thing that caught her eye, starting with the twinkle in her brother's eyes as he returned her smile.