Ragnar ground his teeth together, fighting the urge to turn away, to spare her the truth for just a moment longer. He drew in a slow, steadying breath and forced his feet to move, one step, then another, until only an arm's length separated them.
"Circe…"
Something in the way he said her name made her smile falter. His voice was strained, tight in a way she had never heard before, and the look in his eyes set her instincts on edge. Her shoulders stiffened, her hackles rising, yet she remained silent, sensing that he needed the space to speak. He did eventually but what he said was not what she expected to hear.
"They're here to arrest me," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving hers. "For treason, they claim. My father wants me to stand trial to prove my innocence."
He watched as the color drained from her face, watched horror bloom in her widened eyes.
"No," she whispered. Then she repeated it, this time much louder, sharper, as if volume alone might undo this reality. "No."
