"Breakfast for my fiery wife," Alaric whispered as he guided her to the dining.
The morning sun bathed the dining room in a gentle glow, casting soft light across the gleaming silverware and the warm wooden table.
Salviana, dressed in a finely embroidered gown of deep emerald green that shimmered when it caught the light, looked enchanting as she entered the room with Alaric at her side. Her gown hugged her figure delicately, with lace accents and tiny pearls around the neckline.
Alaric couldn't help but let his gaze linger as they took their seats.
Breakfast had been lavishly prepared—a spread of pastries, fruits, smoked meats, and an arrangement of cheeses that made the table look like a small feast.
The maids had set everything precisely, hovering at a distance outside the room, trying not to eavesdrop as their laughter spilled into the corridor.
