Ansel stared at his mother and cousin, seated across from him, his expression pensive and tight. Weeks had passed since the luncheon, yet he still had not been able to stop thinking about what Princess Circe had said to him during their brief exchange.
He had replayed that conversation over and over again, dissecting every word, turning her statement over in his mind multiple times in an attempt to understand it better.
Logically, he knew he could not do what she had asked of him. She was Prince Ragnar's wife. Someone Ragnar seemed to care for profoundly, enough that he was ready to pull his favor from the Hawthornes because of her.
If Ansel had acted on her request, even out of compassion, it would have spelled ruin for him and for his entire family. Their businesses, their estates, their investments, would be gone. Ragnar would have obliterated it all in a single heartbeat, and Ansel was certain the man would not hesitate.
