The door creaked open just as Circe pulled the lid over to close the box, and both she and Nieah turned toward the sound. Ragnar lingered by the doorway for only a second before sauntering inside without a word.
Nieah immediately inclined her head in greeting.
"Your Highness," she said smoothly before Circe could even form a word. Then, with that same knowing smile from earlier, she added, "I'll take my leave."
Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out, closing the door behind her and leaving the air charged with unspoken tension.
Circe wished Nieah had lingered a moment longer.
Sometime between when he was still outside and now, Ragnar had managed to cover up, donning a plain linen shirt. Yet even with him now fully clothed, Circe couldn't shake the image of his bare torso from her mind, the taut lines of muscle, the effortless power behind every movement. The vivid memory clung stubbornly to her unruly thoughts.
