The look he gave each of them was as frigid as the whipping winter winds, his face a mask fashioned from granite. They had barged their way onto his property, riding straight through his gates and issuing thinly veiled threats on the very doorstep of his home. Anyone else would already have been dead, and they all knew it.

The king’s coat of arms emblazoned on their cloaks was the only thing shielding them from Ragnar’s wrath. Attacking a royal guard while they carried out the king’s orders was a punishable offense, one he was keenly aware of, no matter how tightly his hands curled at his sides.

"What is this?" Ragnar demanded, his voice losing a fraction of its earlier calm. "Am I being arrested?"

Seconds stretched painfully long as the men remained silent, likely assessing the situation and calculating their next move in the event Ragnar turned violent. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, hanging in the air like frost.

"You will receive a proper explanation once you are at the palace," the man who had spoken earlier finally said. "Right now, you are obligated to come with us and to do so quietly."

The fact that he had completely avoided answering the question directly was answer enough. Ragnar was being arrested. The king had not summoned him to appear before the royal court as an honored prince, but to stand trial. They were taking him to defend himself against crimes and charges he knew nothing about.

Ragnar stood his ground, lifting his chin and meeting each of their gazes in turn.

"I will ask you again," he said, his voice sharper now, edged with steel. "Am I being arrested? And on what charges?"

"Treason," said one of the men still seated atop his horse. "I suggest you come quickly. The trial is scheduled for tomorrow." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The word hit him like a physical blow. Ragnar felt the air leave his lungs, and it took everything in him not to stumble back in shock. He stayed rooted to the spot, swallowing hard around the sudden lump in his throat. That was the extent of the reaction he allowed himself. Anything more and they would use it against him—it would not be the first time them doing something of that nature.

The series of events following Luria’s murder had taught him never to trust a royal guard. They were soulless tin cans clad in an overly inflated sense of superiority, their sense of morality warped beyond recognition.

"I will have to inform my wife about this first," Ragnar said, though his mind was already racing. "since there is no telling how long I will be gone."

As he spoke, he was already thinking of how to break the news to Circe gently, if such a thing was even possible. He could already picture the devastation that would cloud her eyes, and his chest tightened so painfully that, for a fleeting moment, he considered not telling her at all.

He dismissed the thought just as quickly. He would not lie to her, not about this. The charges were false; of that he was certain. This was the queen’s doing. Nheera had been trying to ruin him for years, to strip him of his standing and influence, and this was undoubtedly her latest ploy. If he were found guilty of treason, he would not only lose his titles and properties, he would be executed within twenty-four hours. It would be cruel beyond measure to keep that from Circe.

"I’m afraid that won’t be possible," the man said, shaking his head. "We were given strict orders."

They were gravely mistaken if they believed their orders held any real power over him.

"You traveled hours to get here," Ragnar replied coolly. "I highly doubt waiting ten more minutes will kill you. And if it does, then perhaps this is not the right work for you."

Spinning on his heel, he strode back toward the front door, calling back over his shoulder with deliberate nonchalance, "I am going to speak to my wife. If that displeases any of you, then I suggest you find your way out of my estate."

He did not wait to hear their protests. His thoughts were in chaos as he moved through the manor, each one darker than the last. If the queen succeeded in proving him guilty of treason, he would die and with him gone, there would be no one left to stand between Circe and Nheera’s hatred. His mind conjured vivid images of all the terrible things the queen might do to her, and Ragnar shook his head sharply, as if he could banish them through sheer force of will.

He would not let that happen. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Circe was not difficult to find. He had instructed her to remain in their chambers when Casilo woke, and she had obeyed, despite not fully agreeing with how he chose to handle the situation. Knowing she was there, safe for the moment, had eased his mind tremendously.

Ragnar pushed the door open quietly, just enough to give him a clear view of her inside. He watched as she flitted about the room, barely staying still for more than a few seconds at a time, her restless energy on clear display. She was still oblivious to his presence, and in this stolen moment, he felt as though he could watch her forever.

The sight of her brought him an unexpected sense of peace, even now, with a proverbial axe hanging over his head and devastating news weighing heavy on his tongue.

He opened the door wider, enough for her to notice him immediately, but he did not step past the threshold.

Her lips curved into a soft smile at the sight of him.

"Ah, there you are," she said lightly. "There are royal guards currently on the grounds. Do you know why they’re here?"

He looked at her, jaw tightening as a sudden, crushing sense of hopelessness washed over him.