Circe had barely spoken more than a handful of words to him since they'd left his manor that evening. Even now, as they sat opposite each other inside the grand carriage, she hardly glanced in his direction. Her gaze remained fixed on the small window, watching the rolling fields of greenery pass them by.
This wasn't the first time she had chosen to ignore his presence entirely, and Ragnar seriously doubted it would be the last. But for reasons he couldn't quite explain, her cold detachment stung more than usual tonight. The silence between them stretched, broken only by the rhythmic rocking of the carriage and the steady pounding of horse hooves on the road.
