Ragnar pushed open the door to his chambers and stepped inside without slowing, his boots thudding against the stone floor. Behind him, Circe remained unmoving in the doorway, her figure framed by the light spilling in from the hallway.
He shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair, then turned to look back at her when he noticed she hadn't followed him in.
"Aren't you coming in?" he asked, brows furrowing slightly when she still didn't move.
But Circe stayed rooted to the spot, her shoulders squared and her arms hanging stiff by her sides, as if bracing herself for something.
"You said you'd change our sleeping arrangements," she said, reminding him of the conversation they had after she returned from his library. Her voice was firm despite the tension that clung to her like armor.
