The last rays of sunlight had finally waned, leaving their surroundings steeped in deepening darkness. Circe peered out of the carriage window and caught sight of warm golden light spilling from the inn's windows, bright and inviting against the night. The sight alone promised rest, warmth, and a brief reprieve from the long road.
Momentarily distracted by the welcoming glow, she failed to notice Ragnar stepping out of the carriage. It wasn't until he turned back toward her and held out his hand that she realized he had already dismounted.
"Come, let me help you down," he said.
As if it had become second nature, she placed her hand in his large one and allowed him to guide her down, even though she was more than capable of managing it on her own. She had learned that it was never because he doubted her ability to handle herself. It was simply because he wanted to touch her in any way he could, no matter how small or seemingly innocent the contact might be.
