Little by little, some of the stiffness left Ophelia’s posture.

Circe watched her work in silence before proceeding to shatter Ophelia’s brief moment of calm.

"I heard you have been quite busy lately." Circe began. "With all the embroidering you do, it’s a wonder you have the time to spread lies about me."

The needle slipped.

Ophelia sucked in a harsh breath as the sharp needle tip pricked the side of her finger. A bead of blood welled immediately, staining the cloth.

Ophelia stared downward for a moment too long before gathering the courage to speak.

"Your Majesty, I—"

"Do not insult me by pretending otherwise." Circe’s calmness only seemed to make Ophelia more nervous.

The woman swallowed hard, clutching the stained cloth tightly between her fingers.

"I never intended any harm," she said quickly. "I only repeated what I believed to be true."

"Which means you believe me to be a loose woman who has no regard for her husband."

Ophelia shook her head frantically, eyes widening in panic. "No. Not at all, your majesty. I should never have repeated it. I understand that now."

"Where did the rumor begin?" Circe demanded and Ophelia faltered.

"Your majesty, I don’t—"

"Would you be more amenable if his majesty was here instead?" Circe asked, swiftly cutting her off. "He already knows about the rumors and I intend to inform him of your involvement. It’s a good thing too, his majesty has always been better at handling insolence."

Ophelia blanched.

"Lady Avarine." She confessed. "She approached me after our meeting at the palace and told me everything."

"And you believed her."

"I thought..." Ophelia faltered weakly. "I thought perhaps she knew something the rest of us did not."

She looked miserable and defeated, frightened by the realization of how serious the matter had become.

"Do you understand the severity of actions? Rumors surrounding the legitimacy of a royal heir have destroyed kingdoms before."

"I know." She said, eyes downcast.

"No, I do not think you understood it at all. If you had, you would never have spoken so carelessly."

She barely noticed when Circe moved closer and calmly removed the bloodstained cloth still clenched tightly in Ophelia’s hand before setting it aside.

"I did not come here to ruin your family," she said at last. "But this ends now. You will not repeat those rumors again, and if you hear them spoken elsewhere, you will silence them."

Ophelia looked up quickly, startled. "Yes," she answered immediately. "I swear it, Your Majesty."

Circe held her gaze before nodding once. "Good."

When she rose to leave, Ophelia followed her all the way to the front entrance despite repeated assurances that it was unnecessary.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will remember your kindness for as long as I live." She called out to her retreating form.

Circe paused briefly before stepping toward the waiting carriage outside.

As the doors closed behind her, her mind became filled with thoughts of one single person.

Avarine.

***

It was late by the time Ragnar finally returned to their chambers that night. Days earlier when the last of their belongings was brought to the palace, they had abandoned the sparse rooms they once occupied for chambers far more fitting of their station. The irony of it all was almost laughable now, considering how Circe had fought him so fiercely for separate chambers when he first refused her request, yet now that she possessed an entire palace wing of her own, she still found herself returning each night to the king’s bedchambers to sleep beside him.

Circe, curled up on one side of the bed, was the first thing he noticed as he quietly shut the door behind him. He could see that she was awake as well.

Circe watched as he removed his coat , his shoes and even more pieces of clothing until he was naked from the waist up. When he was finished, he crossed the room toward her with long strides, like he had waited eagerly all day for this very moment where it was just the two of them.

By now, it had become a common occurrence between them. Longing for each other after long hours apart.

Ragnar climbed into bed beside her and he reached for her almost immediately.

One arm slid around her waist before he drew her back against his chest, settling her comfortably against him. His hand moved over the slight swell of her stomach, resting there possessively as though he could feel the child growing beneath his palm.

Circe relaxed slightly into him, lulled by his tender touches. His skin was like a furnace and she wanted to bask in his warmth.

He kissed the crook of her neck. "We should announce the pregnancy soon."

His hand moved as he began tracing lines on her shift. "It will become difficult to conceal in a few more weeks. Even though half the capital might already know, it is still important that we announce the news ourselves."

"I also overheard some of the nobles talking about you during the ball," he admitted. "Quite a number of them were questioning whether the child was mine."

The reminder of her current predicament immediately soured her mood.

Circe felt his arm tighten instinctively around her waist afterward, as though the mere repetition of the rumor disgusted him.

"They were repeating things about you that were blatant lies," Anger thrummed through him as he recalled the situation. "The only reason I did not confront them immediately was because I refused to turn the charity ball you worked so hard on into a spectacle. That night should have been peaceful. Causing a scene would only have drawn more attention to the rumors."

If Ragnar had publicly reacted, the lies would only have spread faster, spurred on by his outburst.

Still, hearing him say the words aloud made something unpleasant twist inside her chest.

Ragnar lowered his head slightly until his forehead rested near her temple.

"I do not believe any of it," he said firmly. "Not a single word. And I will make sure to punish whoever that it responsible."

Circe closed her eyes briefly.

Of course he didn’t believe the rumors. The fact that he felt the need to reassure her anyway made her chest ache unexpectedly.

Ragnar had never once doubted her loyalty to him. Not even when their marriage had been fragile and unstable. And certainly not now.