There was a knock on her bedroom door later that same day. Circe watched on quietly from the bed as Ragnar stood up from the armchair and walked towards the door. He refused to return to the bed after commandeering her chair for himself, acting as though trading the bed for the chair had been one of his greatest accomplishments, smirking at her as he lounged back on the armrest.
Circe couldn't find anything to complain about, even though she desperately wanted to. Despite how comfortable the chair appeared to be, spending night after night on it had left her back and neck sore and laying flat on her back on the bed gave her body a welcomed reprieve from the aches.
Ragnar probably had no clue what he was getting himself into. Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he had watched her stretch her back and rub at her sore neck one too many times and decided she needed the bed more.
