Circe was gone from their room in the early hours of the morning, just as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the estate grounds and bathed everything in a soft golden glow. She had managed only a few restless hours of sleep, too shaken by her latest discovery to do anything more than lie on her back and stare blankly at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, new and unsettling thoughts began to churn.
She slid out of bed with careful movements and pulled on her light coat, knowing that a lingering morning chill still clung to the air at this hour.
As she adjusted the coat around her shoulders, her gaze drifted to the chair where Ragnar sat slumped in sleep. His head rested against the back of the chair, long lashes lowered, his breathing deep and even. He looked peaceful.
She realized he rarely slept easily at night, and now that he finally had, she didn't have the heart to disturb him.
