Circe couldn't stop her jaw from tightening the moment Ragnar settled into the chair beside her. Her muscles tensed reflexively and she kept her gaze fixed on the pale tablecloth, willing herself to appear unbothered by it all. In truth it felt like her nerve endings had been lit ablaze.
But she could feel it, the subtle shift in the atmosphere around the table as soon as she took a seat. They had become the center of attention for the gathered courtiers once more. Some of the guests made a poor show of feigning disinterest, turning to their partners and launching into shallow, forced conversations that lacked any real depth, all the while hiding fake smiles behind swishing paper fans. Others didn't bother pretending at all, their gaze filled with blatant curiosity, bordering on rude fascination.
