Circe walked beside Ragnar with her hand tucked comfortably into his, taking leisurely steps as they returned from escorting Thalora and Rowen to the royal guest chambers prepared for them. The peace that had surrounded them all day still lingered between them like sunlight refusing to fade.
Ragnar had scarcely let go of her once since.
Every so often his thumb brushed absentmindedly over her knuckles, and whenever she glanced toward him she found him already looking at her with that same happiness that had remained on his face since the crowns had been placed upon their heads.
King and queen.
The words still felt new. Strange.
Wonderful.
Circe found herself smiling again just thinking about it.
There had been so much darkness surrounding them for so long that moments like this almost felt unreal. Light and peaceful.
Ragnar stopped walking just as they turned down another hall.
The change in him was immediate.
So immediate that Circe nearly stumbled from the abrupt halt.
