From that moment onward, Morana became little more than his puppet. Bound by the magic of their bargain, she was forced to obey his every whim no matter how cruel or humiliating his commands were. And worst of all, the duke delighted in her suffering. He took pleasure in stripping away every ounce of freedom and dignity she had left.

When he learned that she had left a son behind in Lamora, his cruelty only deepened.

Knowing exactly where to wound her most, he forbade her from ever contacting Ragnar. The power of their bargain made it impossible for her to disobey.

She could not go to her son. She could not send letters.

She could not even ask others to check on him in her stead and as an extra act of punishment, the duke twisted the magic further so that Ragnar himself would never be able to track her down once he grew older.

There were few things more absolute than a bargain forged between demons, which was why such deals were feared throughout the realms.

But Morana had been desperate. Desperate enough to make the worst mistake of her life.

In her pursuit of vengeance and power, she had traded one cage for another far crueler than the one her uncle had trapped her in and because of that single mistake, she lost years of her son’s life. Precious years she could never reclaim.

She missed his first words. All of it was stolen from her forever.

The magic of the bargain was only broken upon the duke’s death. Only then was Morana finally free to return to Lamora and search for the son she had been forced to abandon. But by then, Ragnar was no longer the helpless infant she remembered.

He had grown into a man. A powerful one.

Strong, intelligent, and fiercely capable, Ragnar had earned admiration throughout the kingdom. His brilliance on the battlefield and his unmatched instincts as a warrior had made him legendary among the people. Some even called him the greatest warrior and war strategist Lamora had ever known and as Morana looked upon the son she had lost so many years with, pride and heartbreak warred within her chest.

Because despite everything he had become, she had not been there to watch him grow.

Ragnar had also met and married a woman he loved deeply, and Morana had remained on the sidelines, wondering if there would ever be a place for her in the life he had built entirely on his own. He did not need her. Perhaps he would not even want her. Yet she could not bring herself to leave him for a second time. The years they had spent apart had nearly destroyed her, and she did not think she would survive enduring such a separation again.

Telling him the truth outright was bound to push him away, which was why she had chosen to become Circe’s midwife instead. It was the only way she could remain close to her son without forcing herself into his life. And if luck was kind to her, she hoped she might at least be allowed to see her grandchild when the baby was born.

Being part of Ragnar’s life in this small, distant way was far better than having no place in it at all, and for that alone, Morana was deeply grateful.

Morana’s voice had grown hoarse by the end, the weight of decades pressing upon every word. She stood perfectly still even now, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had gone white, as though bracing for the blow she knew was coming.

Ragnar said nothing for a long time.

The silence stretched until she was nearly drowning in it. He stared at a point just past her shoulder, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths that did nothing to calm the storm of emotions inside him.

"You expect me to believe a demon’s bargain kept you away for so long?" His voice was low, dangerous. "That you had no choice at all?"

"I do not expect you to believe anything," Morana answered quietly. "Whether you accept it is your decision to make."

Ragnar’s gaze finally snapped back to her face. For the first time, raw pain flickered beneath the ice in his eyes.

"I was a child. Do you know what it was like growing up knowing my own mother walked away from me? Or what it was like for me to grow up in a place I wasn’t wanted because Nheera despised me from the moment she laid eyes on me?"

Morana’s eyes filled with tears, but she did not let them fall.

"I chose wrongly," she whispered. "I chose power and revenge over staying. I told myself it was for you. That I would return a duchess and give you the world. But the world I built became another cage."

She took one careful step closer.

"I will carry that regret until the day I die, Ragnar. But I never stopped loving you. Not for one single day. Even when the bargain forbade me from speaking your name aloud, I whispered it every night like a prayer."

Ragnar’s throat worked. He looked away again, toward the direction where Circe had disappeared. He felt adrift and his hand flexed at his side as if he wished she were still beside him, anchoring him.

"I do not know how to do this," he admitted gruffly. "I do not know how to look at you and see a mother."

The words struck Morana hard. She closed her eyes briefly, absorbing the painful blow.

"Then do not see me as your mother," she said, voice trembling, almost pleading. "Not yet. Perhaps not ever. Let me simply... exist near you. Let me prove through time and deeds that I am not the same woman who walked away. I ask for nothing more than the chance to try."

Ragnar studied her for a long moment—searching her face, her posture, the genuine regret etched into every line. Some part of him, the small abandoned boy he had buried long ago, wanted desperately to believe her. The man he had become knew better than to hand out trust so easily.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose.

"You may remain as Circe’s midwife, for now. She seems to like you enough." he said finally and it felt like pulling teeth. " And while you are doing your job, you will not seek me out. I don’t want to cross paths with you, even by accident."

"I understand," Morana said quickly, relief and sorrow warring in her heart.

Ragnar gave a single, curt nod. He turned to leave, then paused.

"If you truly wish to be useful, you will ensure my wife and child are safe. That is the only role in my life I will allow you." He said without looking back

Morana’s breath caught. The tears she had been holding back finally slipped down her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered, the words thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Ragnar’s shoulders tensed further. He had tossed her scraps yet she looked so relieved. He did not bother trying to understand her reaction as he turned and walked away, leaving her there alone. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

When he turned the corner, he found Circe waiting exactly where he knew she would be, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around herself. The moment she saw his face, she pushed off and hurried to him.

She did not ask what had been said. She simply slid her arms around his waist and held him tightly.

Ragnar buried his face in her hair, breathing her in.

Eventually he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"I did not kill her," he murmured, a tired attempt at humor.

Circe smiled softly, brushing her thumb along his jaw. "Progress."

He let out a shaky breath that was almost a laugh. "I allowed her to remain as your midwife but only if that’s what you want." Then more seriously, he said, "I... I cannot call her mother. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

"You do not have to," Circe whispered.

Ragnar closed his eyes, letting her warmth seep into the cold places Morana’s story had reopened. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth.

"Come," he said, taking her hand. "We ought to return to our guests and afterwards, there is one last thing we must do before I can have you all to myself."